I moaned. Was Annie right?
An older man with a mini sausage dog crossed the street in my direction. “Hey, Emma.”
“Hi, Frank. Hey, Archie.”
The foot traffic increased as folks headed to and from dinner.
My heart grew heavy when Cecily’s letter ended, and I briefly considered calling her. The nights were long and lonely, but I had something extra to process tonight. Apparently I should’ve been a theater major.
I peeked through the bookstore’s window as I rose, contemplating popping inside for a few minutes with Grace, when a soft bark turned me toward the street.
A golden retriever flounced in my direction, its long blond hair lifting in the breeze.
“Hey, you,” I called, reaching for the friendly dog on instinct.
The incredibly attractive man on the other end of the leash arrived a heartbeat later. It took an extended moment for my brain to realize the man was Davis.
Dressed in sneakers, a UMass T-shirt and gray joggers, he looked youthful and fun. Like a college kid on his way to the game with friends, instead of a successful thirtysomething architect.
My body straightened, and I contemplated a fast escape. My brain, however, wanted to stay and get to know his dog and learn what Davis’s life was like when he was off the clock. But that was the problem. The sparks I felt in his presence would burn down my entire mission if I let them. And he’d already apologized for kissing me. Before he ran away.
“Hey,” he said, brows furrowed as he glanced from my face to the shop behind me.
“Hi.” I moved off the bookstore’s porch and onto the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?”
“I worked late and missed kickoff, so I decided to spend the evening with my favorite girl instead of at the game.”
My mouth fell open.
Davis adjusted the dog’s leash, and I chastised myself internally.
The dog was his favorite girl. Not me. Obviously.
Get it together, Rini.
I squatted to hone my focus. “Introduce us?”
“This is Violet,” he said. “Violet, Emma.”
“That’s a very ladylike name,” I told her, digging my fingertips into the doggy’s soft fur.
“I found her on a jobsite a few years ago. The vet suspected she’d been abused and ran away. She was starving and freezing, so I took her home and nursed her. At the time I thought it would be a foster situation, but the minute she raised those big brown eyes to meet mine, finally feeling safe and no longer afraid, I was a goner.”
I gave up on squatting and sat on the ground, pulling Violet onto my lap for a full-body cuddle.
“I was reading a book with an awesome orphaned heroine at the time, so I gave the name to this girl.”
I raised a brow in question. “Give me another hint.”
“About the book?”
I nodded, and he wrinkled his nose.
“The Bad Beginning.”
I laughed. That wasn’t much of a hint. It was the title. “Lemony Snicket?”
He shrugged. “I saw an ad for the series on Netflix, and it made me want to reread the books. Violet was always my favorite, and she was an orphan. Not quite the same thing, but—”
