Page 7 of Take Me (Cherry Blossom Lake #5)

“Oh.” Thank God for Erika. “That’s right, uh—” What the fuck would I call her if she were my girlfriend? “Wrenchy,” I decide, and she steps on me harder. “Uh, Tinker Nutbolt.”

“That’s sweet.” Annabelle’s shoulders dip with relief. “So, you two are really okay with this? I worried it might be too soon or too strange or just too close to home with all the?—”

“Nah, it’s cool.” I guess we’re back to the dog now. “Thanks for thinking of me. Us .”

“Us.” Erika’s practically standing on my foot now. “Anything we should know about the dog? Feeding schedule or medical needs or commands he already knows?”

“You’re in luck.” She ducks back into her car and comes up with an envelope.

“I typed up my care notes in case he went into a foster home, but I’ll give them to you.

I’ve also got some extra kibble. The brand I’ve been giving him is listed in the notes, but I’ve got enough here for the next several days. ”

“Excellent.” I deliberately don’t look at Erika as Annabelle digs through her car for the kibble. I feel my friend’s eyes drilling holes in the side of my head, but I focus on scratching my dog.

“All set.” Annabelle hooks a leash to his collar and hands me the other end. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

“I’m sure we will be.” Erika jabs me with her elbow. “Mason, me, and?—”

“Scrumpy.” I study the dog, who definitely looks like a Scrumpy.

Erika folds her arms. “That’s better than Tinker Nutbolt.”

Annabelle ushers my dog from her backseat and coaxes him into my truck. “There you go, buddy. Have fun!”

When she pivots to face me, the kindness in her eyes makes my chest ache. She stretches on tiptoe and kisses my cheek. “I’m happy for you, Mason.”

“Thanks for the dog.” Her Annabelle scent overwhelms me. Cedar and citrus and something tangy. It might be from nature, or maybe the disinfectant at her clinic.

I wait for my knees to go weak. For the familiar churn in my gut.

Nothing.

“Good seeing you.” Erika gives her a hug. “Thanks for the dog.”

“Thanks for giving him a home.” She looks between both of us and smiles. “This is all working out so perfectly, isn’t it?”

“Seems that way.” I watch as she walks back around her car and gets in the driver’s seat.

Her window’s still down, and she calls out to me as she fires up the engine. “Wanna grab coffee sometime next week?”

“Sure.” I most definitely do not want to grab coffee. “I’m kinda busy most days, but?—”

“We’ll figure it out.” She smiles and rolls up the window, easing out of the parking spot.

I stand waving with Erika, jumping when Annabelle beeps her horn twice before driving away. We wait for the pale-yellow beetle to turn the corner before dropping the act.

“Asshole.” Erika smacks me in the abs, then yanks her hand back and shakes it. “What the fuck?”

“What?” There are so many things that could be annoying her. Most should annoy me, too.

“Wrenchy? Tinker Nutbolt? And what’s up with the bulletproof abs? That hurt.” She shakes her wrist and glares at me. “When did you start stuffing your shirt with steel plates?”

“The same day you stuffed yours with warm water balloons.”

Erika sputters like I’ve just lost my mind. “Warm water balloons? Seriously, Mason?”

“What?” Dragging a hand through my hair, I take a step back to clear my head. “Look, I panicked. I wasn’t expecting you to kiss me, and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to have you all melted up against me like that.”

“Well, excuse me. Whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

“Obviously.” In twenty-six years of close of friendship, it seems so bizarre that we’ve never once pawed one another. Dunked in the deep end of a swimming pool? Sure. Thumb-wrestled in a bar? Of course. But touching and kissing and— “Good thinking with the kiss. Very convincing.”

“Thanks.” She snorts. “Guess that’s another thing I never knew about you.”

“You mean that I’m a great kisser?”

She snorts even louder this time. “Whatever you say, buddy.”

Did it really not affect her? Because it rocked my damn world.

It’s just that you’re reeling from Annabelle ending things. That’s all it is. Hormonal rebound or something.

“Thanks again.” I hold out a palm for a slap.

“No prob.” She looks in my eyes as our hands clap together and we go through our normal routine. If she notices how clammy my palm feels, she doesn’t say so.

“Guess we don’t have to worry about getting through Maxine and Sam’s wedding. You’re a damn good actor, Mace.”

“You too, Gentry.”

“I’ll see you around.”

Part of me wants to kiss her again, which is stupid. We got enough practice already. “I’ll, uh… call you about plans for driving there.”

“Sounds good.”

There’s a bark from my truck, and we turn to see Scrumpy has climbed from the backseat and stands with his paws on my steering wheel. His creamy tail swishes as he presses the horn, making us jump.

Erika takes a step back. “Guess you’re not in charge anymore.”

“No shit.” I open the driver’s side door, petting my dog to keep him inside. “See you around.” Did I already say that? “Thanks again.”

“No sweat.”

Does she notice how badly I’m sweating? Or holding my breath as she gets in her truck and waves like we’re normal?

We are normal.

As she fires up the engine, I let out a breath.

“Woof!”

“No joke,” I say to my dog.

Then I get in and drive us both home.

A couple days later, like clockwork, my sister swings by to check up on me. She knocks a few times, then shoves through the door like she’s done since we shared a womb.

For the record, we were C-section babies, and I popped out before Lucy. But my twin emerged with her foot in my face and the umbilical cord clenched in a fist.

“Hello?” Her voice rings out from the entry. “Put your clothes on if you’re naked. I’m here to meet your new dog. Also, ew. Please don’t be naked with your new dog.”

“Hello, Lucifer.” I stroll to the front of the house with Scrumpy trotting at my heels. He takes one look at my twin and barks sharply. “She’s an intruder,” I tell him. “You should bite her.”

My disobedient dog licks Lucy’s shin instead.

“Look at you, sweet boy!” She drops to the floor of my foyer and starts scratching his ears. “Aren’t you the cutest?”

“I am, but I don’t like to brag.” No surprise, my dog loves my sister. He’s licking her face and has his weird stumpy legs propped on her knees. “Do I even want to know how you heard I got a dog?”

“Shanice Sherman told Rafaela Diaz, who heard it from?—”

“Never mind.”

“He seems really sweet.”

“I’m training him to chew off my enemies’ kneecaps.”

“Like you have enemies.” She straightens and heads for my fridge. “Got any wine?”

“I own a brewery.” I head to the kitchen behind her. “I won two gold medals and a silver at the last Oregon Beer Awards. Why would you come here for wine?”

“Why would you tap your best friend to play your fake girlfriend when there are dozens of eligible women who’d— Oh, here we go.” She drags an unopened bottle of white wine from my fridge. “White Pinot Noir from Andante. My favorite.”

I stare at my twin, doing my best to keep my expression impassive. There’s really no point. “How did you know?”

“That you and Erika aren’t actually dating? Please.”

That wasn’t an answer, but I don’t really need one. From the time we were tiny, we’ve instinctively known each other’s innermost thoughts. I might not have trouble fibbing to Kaleb or Noah or Jake or Parker, but with Lucy? I don’t even bother.

Sighing, I get down two glasses and motion my sister to fill them. “How’d you know I’d be home? I normally work until closing on Tuesdays.”

She gives me a bitch, please look and pours the wine. “You got a new dog, so of course you’d take paternity leave. Dogternity leave? Whatever. Thanks again for taking Harper to the kombucha thing the other day.”

“My pleasure.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Having her be this whole-ass person who gets to decide who she hangs with or how she feels like spending her time?”

“I liked it better when we could just strap her in a bouncy swing and she’d giggle up at us like we hung the damn moon.”

Lucy tilts her head thoughtfully. “I don’t think I did. Maybe because she can wipe her own butt now?”

“There’s that.”

Grabbing both glasses, my twin makes her way to my living room. I follow behind her because what the hell else would I do? Scrumpy pushes ahead of me, trotting beside Lucy like he’d happily chew off his foot just to be with her.

“You and every other red-blooded male,” I mutter to my dog. “She’s taken.”

“What?” Lucy sits down on my sofa and gives me a quizzical look. “Are you talking to yourself or the dog?”

“Yes.” I flop down beside her as hard as I can, making the couch cushion bounce.

Lucy glares. “You’re such a child.” She hands me a wineglass, then turns so she faces me, tucking her legs up under her butt. “Bring me up to speed. Was Sunday at my house the first time you sprung the fake dating plan on Erika?”

Taking a fortifying sip of wine, I spill the whole story. I start with the moment the idea struck me, and end by glossing over the parking lot kiss.

“Whoa.” Lucy’s blue eyes are like saucers. “Annabelle saw?”

“Yep.”

“You and Erika actually kissed ?”

She sounds more surprised by that detail than the fact that I lied. “Yeah. Kinda surprised me.”

“Who kissed whom?”

“What do you mean? We both kissed each other.”

“I mean, who started it?”

“She did, I guess.” I think back on the kiss and feel myself starting to squirm. “I mean, I was willing. And I guess we’re even, since I’m the one who forced her to be my fake girlfriend.”

“She could have called you out.” Lucy sips her wine. “Erika’s a straight talker. If she didn’t want to go along with it, she could have pretended the whole thing was a joke.”

“I guess.” The joking is kinda our schtick. Back when her mom died, I watched all our peers fawning and fretting over our tiny blond classmate. Teachers kept staring at Erika with sympathy clouding their eyes. They’d whisper things like, “poor baby” when they thought no one could hear.