THE MEETCUTE
3 YEARS BEFORE
Becky
My body ached. I was sticky with sweateverywhere,and I smelled like a middle school boy's locker room. The shower and couch were both calling my name when I made a terrible mistake. I touched the little pink leash sitting on the ground by the door in my effort to tidy-up our new place before finally relaxing. Ellie must have been watching me like a hawk to respond the second my hand made contact with the damn thing. I skimmed it with the pad of my finger, and she was jumping on my legs, letting me know that it was time for a walk. I looked longingly down the hall, toward my bathroom, but her bouncy enthusiasm won me over. I guess I wanted to explore eventually anyway, so I didn’t need much convincing. I reapplied my men's deodorant, threw my already unruly hair into an even more unruly bun, and opened the door to a wall of humidity and heat.
“Oh, Hell no.” Nobody has time for a walk in the heat of summer. Adding humidity to that had me noping out of that plan. I shut the door quickly and leaned back against it, taking a sweet breath ofairconditioned air. A small whine at me feet had me closing my eyes briefly, before I looked to my small, black, mixed beagle puppy. Our eyes met, and her tail thudded against the wood floor in response.
“Damn you for being so freaking cute.”
The tail thudding accelerated at the sound of my voice.Adorable.
“Okay, fine. You win.” I grabbed my nifty new pup water bottle and popped back out into the nasty summer heat. In the distance, I could see a storm gathering on the horizon, but it was far enough away that it looked a lot like a future-me problem.
We walked down the quaint street where my new, charming apartment sits at the end. Ellie and I had recently finished moving in, and this was our first opportunity to get a good look at the town. The street was dead, which was for the best. Ellie was a skittish dog. She had been afraid of Evan, my ex, from the moment she came home with me a few weeks before.Thathad been my final wake up call to get out of our shared life and get gone. Luckily, I hadn't yet signed my new contract for the school there, and our apartment was up for lease in June, so my timing could not have been more perfect. One interview and job offer later, I packed my '98 Range Rover to the brim with everything I wanted from that life and left to start my new one.
Admiring my dog as she admired the world was a strange entertainment. The grass was greener, the flowers were brighter, and the warmth of the summer sun shining off the brick paths was sweltering. The air was heavier, and I sweat entirely through my t-shirt. Ellie’s little claws clacked their way right to the oddly quiet Main Street.
We were looking at a beautiful display of flowers, when a quiettingfollowed closely by another pulled my attention away from the gorgeous blooms. I looked for the origin of the sound when my eyes caught on a mini library. The roof of it was made from some type of tin or other metal. As I watched, the drops multiplied, and the smalltingsgrew in intensity, like a crowd moving from a smattering of applause to a full blown standing ovation. At the sound, Ellie and I looked together beyond the gorgeous flowers and directly into the face of a sheet of rain traveling directly toward us. When a droplet of water plopped directly onto my forehead, I knew we were fucked.
I swear Ellie's expression matched my own—eyes wide and mouths gaping in a silent, 'Oh shit'. That storm was coming in hot, and we needed to find shelter. Now. Ellie didn’t know the town any better than I did, so I needed to be the adult and figure it out. I fumbled my phone, almost dropping it as I pulled upMy Location.It didn’t take an app to recognize that we were already being rained on, and we would never make it back in time.
I scanned the area and a small brick path right ahead of us, beyond the flowers, led to a white gazebo. It was big enough to fit maybe four or five people if they were very comfortable with each other, and there was only a single dog and me. The greenery was savage in its beauty. The simple architectural piece wasn’t surrounded by the foliage—it was being devoured by roses, lilacs, some kind of vine, and rhododendrons. The small, decorative shelter looked like something straight out of a Better Homes & Garden magazine. I was pulled in that direction, perfectly pleased with the idea of a gorgeous place to wait out the storm, when a blinding flash of lightning forked through the sky followed by a deafening boom of thunder.
Ellie, new to a life with me and to this place, started pulling on the leash with the strength of a creature three times her size. Rather than get into a tug-of-war, I scooped her up into my arms and blindly walked down the street until a reasonable shop came into view. Reasonable meaning, a shop that would welcome the soggy dog and hot mess partnership we had going. Another flash of lightning put a pep in my step and directed me to the open garage door of an autoshop.
I sprinted toward the fading sign that read THE SHOP, half tripping over, half dragging Ellie’s leash. The rain went from a consistent pattering, to a torrential downpour the moment we were through the large garage doors. I stood for a moment, my dog in my arms, dripping tiny puddles onto the floor, and stared out the door at the storm. An oddly comforting blend of oil and rainfall filled my senses, reminding me of my dad and home. A particularly powerful wriggle in my arms and a lick on my face shook me from my momentary reflection. I obeyed Ellie’s command and put her down. She promptlyshook out and covered the surrounding concrete with drops of rainwater.
The mess made me grimace. There had to be someone to ask permission to stay in this space. I only needed to find them and see if they’d be cool with housing us for a few minutes. Honestly, they’d have to be a monster to shove my sweet pup back into that big bad storm, and I would not let them without being a pain about it. However, I was raised to appear polite, so I would give them a chance to make the right decision.
I turned from the rain and took in the garage. It was packed, yet organized. All of the cars and trucks were in various states of disrepair, but tools were clearly put away. A crinkled paper with ‘Office’ scrawled on it in black sharpie was haphazardly taped to the window. The shaky hand-drawn arrow directed me to an opened door in the back corner. The garage was deserted.It must be later than I’d thought.I expected to see some people working on cars, maybe a receptionist or other employee doing the books, or something. What I didn't expect was a slightly older beagle pup lounging in her own custom woodworked bed with the name Daisy written along the side. Daisy, presumably, was lounging on the thick cushion atop this bed, situated beside the large, disorganized, metal desk, and at the foot of her daddy's chair.
I clocked the dog immediately because, well, dog. Duh. The dog's daddy? Well, I saw him, standing now, and I looked. Ireallylooked.
This beautiful specimen of a manhad salt and pepper hair that slightly curled around his nape. A white shirt, stained by his work in this garage, stretched tight across his broad shoulders. My eyes dragged across his defined chest and rose back up to his face. He was tall too. A dark beard, trimmed short, ran along his strong jaw and outlined a full, smirking mouth. I continued my perusal up to the thick dark lashes framing his bright, surprisingly young, hazel eyes. Eyes which were looking right at me.
I got caught staring. By the dog, and by her daddy. Heat creeped up my neck, staining my cheeks in an all too familiar blush. I prayed thedaddy wouldn’t notice, but I knew my pale skin would do nothing to hide it.
Jesus, I need a different mental name for him. Tall. dark, and bearded. TDB? No, too much of a mouthful. Mouthful…
Involuntarily, my eyes dipped down again—not to the dog.
Oh my shit. What am I doing?
"Uhm, errr, I..." I stumbled over words, forgetting how to do the talking thing, while I stood there dripping a puddle onto his floor.
Shoot me.
He chuckled.
I chuckled too. He was beautiful, and I was feeling a bit slap-happy, so my chuckle escalated into laughter.
Then he threw his head back in a howl of laughter, and I nearly doubled over at the sound.
This sinfully dirty, large, bearded, and beautiful man had a laugh that was one of those contagious laughs. The kind that makes others around laugh too. With that happy sound ringing in the air, I no longer felt so intimidated.
As our laughter subsided, I realized, with no small amount of glee, that he was giving me a thorough lookover as well. I liked to think I was agoodaverage—America's average size—basically textbook: average hair, average style, average job. I did not rock the boat by appearance or profession. Apparently, Mr. TDB liked my brand of average, and his eyes were doingthingsto me.
