Page 27

The thrift shop not only had towels, but it had a much bigger selection than Adam had anticipated. And because he’d suddenly become some weirdo girl-dog dad, he was standing there trying to decide which color Sugarbelle would like the best.

Boy, had his life changed. If his Ranger buddies could see him now, they’d laugh their faces off.

Whatever. Sugarbelle was worth it. He stood in front of the shelves, contemplating the selection.

The pink were girly, but he didn’t like the texture of them. Too rough. The blue were softer but not pretty. The white ones were stained, but they’d make good shop rags for out in the garage. If he was staying. Which he wasn’t, so shop rags didn’t matter.

He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d never spent this much time on towels in his life. His phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his back pocket and checked the screen, shaking his head as soon as he saw the message.

I really think we should talk.

Why couldn’t Veronika leave him alone? What was there to talk about? What else could she possibly have to say?

Unless Sydney was right and Veronika wanted him back. That couldn’t be it, though. Didn’t matter if it was; he was done. He understood now what a toxic relationship it had been. He might be going back to Chicago, but he wasn’t going back to her.

He’d never be that desperate. He’d spend the rest of his life alone first. He wasn’t going to answer her, either. That would only encourage her.

His phone vibrated again, this time with a call. But it wasn’t Veronika’s number. He answered. “Hello?”

“Is this Adam Rockford?”

“It is. Who’s this?”

“This is Amir Kashan. I got your name from a mutual friend of ours, David Luchase?”

Adam nodded. David had been his boss at the security company. “Sure, I know David. Good guy. Are you looking for private security?”

“No, I’m actually looking for a cook. Someone I can train to be a sous-chef at my restaurant, Longitude. Are you interested?”

Adam’s mouth fell open. Longitude was an incredible restaurant, one of Chicago’s hot spots. “I am very interested. But I’m locked into another job for five more months.”

“I can wait.”

Adam couldn’t believe this. He owed David. He was so glad he’d reached out to David when he’d first started looking for work. Of course, he’d thought that would result in a security job, but this was amazing. “Thank you.”

“Text me your info, let me know your earliest starting date, and I’ll send you the details.”

“Will do. Thanks again.”

They hung up, and Adam put his phone away. He took a moment to process what had just happened before going back to the towels.

With a smile on his face, he decided on the pale green, which were a little faded but soft and had a border of flowers embroidered along the hem.

Very pretty and girly, which Sugarbelle was.

Not that it mattered in the slightest because for all he knew, dogs were color-blind and Sugarbelle wouldn’t notice. One more thing to look up.

“Good choice.”

He looked over to see Sydney in the aisle behind him. How long had she been there? He caught a whiff of her perfume. It made him want to get closer to get a better sniff.

She pointed at the towels in his hand. “Those are for Sugarbelle, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. He liked her hair up. Something about it made her seem more approachable. Didn’t matter. She was still out of his league. And he was still leaving. Now more than ever. “What are you doing here?”

The words came out gruffer than he’d intended, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Looking for stuff for my guest room.” She held up the black and white shower curtain in her hand. “And guest bath.”

“Have you seen any steps in here?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Steps?”

“I mean for Sugarbelle. She can’t get on the bed on her own. Too high. I don’t really like her jumping off either. She can barely get on the couch.”

“Oh, those kinds of steps. No, but there was a child’s stool over in the kids’ area. That might work.”

“Thanks. I’ll go have a look.” He didn’t know what else to say to her, his self-confidence oddly shaken by the recent discovery of who she was. Sydney Marlowe, supermodel. Crazy. “Thanks,” he said again, then he went toward the kids’ section, towels in hand.

Why had things gotten so strange? So what if she was famous? They were still neighbors, and she’d never made a big deal out of it. She’d never made any deal out of it, honestly. If he hadn’t searched her name, he never would have known.

She was the same woman who’d made soup to thank him and shaped dough in his kitchen and looked after his dog with as much care as if Sugarbelle had been hers. The same woman who’d helped him pick out a suit and shared a pizza with him.

Except she wasn’t. She was someone .

He had to stop thinking of her that way. Sydney might be famous, but she was also a good person. There was no reason they couldn’t be friends. He looked up to find her, but she wasn’t in the same aisle anymore.

Just as well.

“Here, this is the one.” She walked over to him with a little blue and yellow stepstool in her hand.

He inhaled, surprised by her proximity. Even his supernatural senses hadn’t picked up on it. Probably because he’d been too lost in his own head. He inspected the small stool. It had two steps and seemed very sturdy. “That might actually work.”

“You could probably paint it whatever color you wanted. Plus, it’s only five bucks.”

“Sold.” Adam took it from her, smiling. “Good find. Thanks.”

“No problem. I hope it works for her.”

“Me, too.” He nodded at the picture in her other hand, the shower curtain draped over her arm. “You found more than a shower curtain, I see.”

She turned the frame so he could see it. It was a landscape, a dreamy rural scene with lambs playing in a field full of flowers. “If my guests can’t sleep, they can always count sheep.” She grinned.

He smiled, doing his best to ignore how beautiful she was. “Nice. You, uh, shopping for anything else?”

“All kinds of stuff—nightstands, some more art, maybe an area rug—but Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”

“Right. Well, hope you find what you need.”

“Thanks.” She hesitated like she wanted to say something else. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.” He made his way to the register and got in line, glancing back at her.

She was occupied in the furniture section.

He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to hang out with her.

Help her. Be with her. Tell her about his job offer.

With a sigh at his own strange, pitiful mood, he studied the little stepstool she’d found.

There was a heart sticker on the first step. If that was some kind of sign from the universe, he had no idea what it meant.

He stepped up to pay, putting his things on the counter. He had to shake this funk he was in where Sydney was concerned. It wasn’t doing him any good. Maybe a hard workout would help. Actually, what would help would be a long flight, but there was no way he could get airborne during daylight hours.

Tonight, after this date and after work, he would. He needed it. Needed to be reminded of who he really was. What he was capable of.

But until then, there wasn’t much he could do. He swiped his credit card through the reader. Well, he could go home and cook.

That always made him feel better, especially when he was stressed. Too bad he didn’t have someone to cook for. Soon it would be his job. That was something good. Still not the same as having someone at home.

He thought for a moment, then smiled. He did have someone to cook for. He just needed to find the right, dog-friendly recipe.

He didn’t even care if he had to make another trip to the store for the ingredients.

He needed a project to keep him busy for a while, and this was a good one.

He could even swing by the hardware store and pick up some paint for the stool.

Maybe some tread grips, too, so the stairs wouldn’t be slippery.

He nodded as he picked up his bag. That should be enough to occupy himself until the date. Homemade dog biscuits and repainting the stepstool.

Then, after tonight’s date, which probably wouldn’t be too bad, and after his shift was through, he’d finally go flying and get himself back on track. There was nothing like time in the sky to put everything into perspective.

He headed for the door, stopping to have one last look at Sydney, but he couldn’t find her in the store. It was just as well.

She had her life, he had his, and they weren’t meant to be together. He went to his car. They were friendly neighbors, nothing more.

He’d even take some dog biscuits over to her for Mackie, just because that was what friendly neighbors did.

He put his bag on the back seat, then got behind the wheel. He was about to start the engine when his phone went off again. He checked the screen, wondering if it was Amir calling back with additional information.

It was a call. But it was from Veronika.

She was relentless. What did she think she was going to accomplish? He thought about answering and having it out with her, one last time. To tell her, once and for all, that they were done.

He didn’t, though. He knew her well enough to know that there would be no last time if he answered.

She’d see that as an open door, one she’d try to walk through as many times as she could until she was permanently back inside.

He couldn’t be with her. Not after what she’d done. How she’d torn him down. How she’d hurt him and made him doubt so much about his life.

He had to move on. The call went to voicemail. He looked at his phone, knowing what was going to happen next.

Right on cue, a text message showed up.

I really need to talk to you. Please. This is important, Adam. It’s about us.

The voicemail was probably more of that, but he might listen to it later. Just to see what she had to say. Wouldn’t matter, though. He stuck his phone in the cupholder, turned on the engine, and pulled out of the spot. Eventually, she’d get tired of being ignored and go away.

He hoped.