I typed fast.
What if I could get a K9 handler and his dog to do a demonstration? Real police K9. My neighbor—he’s helping Summit Falls PD set up their K9 program. Professional, great with kids.
…
ARE YOU SERIOUS??!!
Yes.
KAYLA CAFFERTY, IF YOU ARE MESSING WITH ME, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!
Not messing. He just offered.
I COULD KISS YOU. Actually, I could kiss HIM. Is he single? Never mind. YES! A thousand times yes. Calling Mrs. Patterson now. Tell your neighbor he is a HERO.
I looked up. “Trish says yes. Also that you’re a hero. Also, she wants to know if you’re single, but I’m ignoring that part.”
“Noted.”
“I’ll get you the details later tonight. Exact time, location, how many kids for certain.”
“We’ll be ready.” He scratched behind Jolly’s ears. “He hasn’t done a school visit in a while. He’ll enjoy it.”
The evening had gone gold around us. That mountain light that made everything look warmer than it was saturating the yard, the fence, the man standing three feet away with his hand on his dog’s head.
He’d torn down a fence for my son. Brought me tea with two sugars because he’d been paying attention. And now he was volunteering to walk into a gym full of two hundred children because someone he barely knewneeded help.
“Ben.”
He looked up from Jolly.
I didn’t think about it. If I’d thought about it, I wouldn’t have done it. I’d have cataloged the reasons it was too soon, too risky, too much.
I’d have let the fear win.
Instead, I leaned across the gap where the fence used to be and kissed him.
Brief. His mouth was warm, and he went completely still—not pulling away, not pushing forward. My hand found the top of the slat beside his, rough wood under my fingers. His breath caught, just barely, a sound I felt more than heard.
I pulled back. My heart was hammering.
Ben hadn’t moved. His hand was still on the fence. His eyes were on my face, and what I saw in them was the most unguarded thing he’d shown me. Not surprise exactly, but something that had been held carefully in place for a very long time and was now quietly rearranging itself.
“Sorry,” I said, because apparently kissing someone and immediately apologizing was my new signature move. “I don’t know why I?—”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t apologize for that.”
His voice was low, quiet, and absolutely certain. He was looking at me with a steadiness that left no room for doubt. Jolly’s tail thumped the ground between us. The only sound in the yard.
“Okay,” I said. “I won’t.”
He held my gaze for another beat. Then he looked down at Jolly, and when he looked back up, some of the composure had returned—not all the way, not like before, but enough.
“I should confirm the schedule with Donovan. Make sure we don’t have a conflict at the station tomorrow.”
