He looked over my shoulder and gave the boys a wave through the window, grinning even wider than before. “Hi, mutts.”
They squirmed in response, straining at their harnesses while I reached in and fumbled to undo them.
“Well, I see now that you’re going to be a terrible influence,” I said.
“Sorry, I really like dogs.”
He didn’t sound even remotely sorry, and when I looked over my shoulder at him, he was making acome here, boysgesture that did nothing to help me in my task.
I shook my head and turned my focus back to the harnesses. Dog people. We were all the same when you got right down to it.
Once they were free, Fred and Sam launched themselves straight at him. He dropped down into a crouch and roughhoused with them for a few minutes before they darted away and took off toward the nearest snowbank, racing each other to be the first one to inspect the rock that stuck out from it. That done, they sniffed a circle around Ben’s Jeep, taking extra time on each tire, and then bounded back to him again, briefly, before tearing around the truck, out of sight. From the sound of it, they were plowing through the snow in wild abandon. They raced around the Jeep again and beelined for the woodpile. Then they were back at the rock. Fred peed on the rock. Sam sniffed Fred’s pee and added his own for good measure. Finally, they padded toward us.
I leaned down, coaxing them over. “Are you guys all done being -”
Fred got a crazy look in his eye and then took off again, Samhot on his heels.
I straightened. “Better they get it out now than in the house.”
Ben chuckled, nodding in agreement.
“They might be a while, if you want to wait inside.” I waved a hand at him. “You’re not exactly dressed for this weather.
He gave me a sheepish grin and cupped his hands together to blow into them. “I think I will if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I’m going to play fetch with them for a few minutes to get some of their energy out.”
“You need a hat or gloves or anything?” he asked.
Gah. Of course he was super considerate. “I’m good, thanks. I have all the necessary clothing items in the truck.”
Necessary clothing items?I sounded like some robot pretending to be me.
Ben, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. “Okay, I’ll be inside.”
He turned and strolled toward the front door. I watched him go; I couldn’t help myself. That butt. The breadth of his shoulders. The way those long legs ate up the driveway.
Hrrrrrnnnnnn.
He turned around halfway to the porch. “Coffee?”
I blanked my face, hoping he hadn’t seen my climb-you-like-a-tree expression again. “Yes, please.”
I didn’t exactly need any more caffeine right now, but holding the mug would give me something to do with my hands once I was inside. Whenever I felt awkward or uncomfortable, I grew hyperaware of them. It was like realizing that no matter where you look, you can always see your own nose. I became consumed with how I should or shouldn’t hold them. Did I put them in my pockets? Fold them in front of me? Gently touch my own face?
I whistled the dogs over before they decided to chase after Ben. I kept a bucket of spare toys in the back of the truck. In winter, itwas filled with frisbees. They did better skipping over the hard crust of snow than tennis balls or squeaky toys. I’d lost more of those to snowbanks than I could count. Every spring melt, I found about twenty littering the yard.
I spent a good ten minutes flinging a bright green disc across Ben’s snow-covered front lawn and driveway before the dogs mellowed enough that I trusted them to go in. Ben met us at the door, opening it wide. I took one look at the freshly-stained floors and grabbed both of the dogs by their collars before they could sneak by me.
“Do you have some old rags I can clean them off with?” I asked.
Ben glanced down at their muddy paws. “I do. Be right back.”
He reappeared a minute later with some threadbare towels. I dried the dogs off with them, taking my time. Only once I was sure they wouldn’t track anything in or drip all over his floors did we go inside.
I stopped on the front mat and unzipped my jacket while Ben closed the door behind us. The entry and hallway must have only needed cosmetic updates. The staircase was gorgeous, the intricately carved wooden banister polished to a bright gloss. It rose up and away, framing the wide stairs. The walls were a neutral, light gray that contrasted beautifully with the flooring, while the baseboards and crown molding were painted a crisp white.
I bent down to untie my boots and used it as an excuse to check out the hardwood floors I’d heard so much about at Jack’s. The planks were well over a foot wide, and they gleamed a rich gold.
