“I do.” Delilah’s watching Ruffy, who’s pressed against the fence, staring after Rex with mournful eyes. “He’s lonely. They both are.”
Something about the way she says it makesmy chest tight. I wonder if she hears herself. If she knows she’s not just talking about the dogs.
Dean’s phone buzzes. He checks it and sighs. “Jo. I have to call her back or she’ll assume I died.” He looks at me. “You good?”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t be weird.”
“Define that.”
Dean doesn’t dignify that with a response. He heads toward the gate, Rex reluctantly in tow, and I’m left standing at Delilah’s fence like an idiot.
“You can come in,” she says. “If you want. Ruffy might actually let you in the yard now that you’re associated with Rex.”
It’s not exactly a warm invitation. But it’s not a rejection either.
I should say no. I should walk to Dean’s house, get my car, drive back to the rental, and spend the evening not writing a wedding song like a normal person. Every smart instinct I have is sayingleave.
I unlatch the gate and step through.
Ruffy’s head snaps toward me. He watches my every move with those intense brown eyes, but he stays where he is.
“He’s still deciding about you,” Delilah says.
“What’s the verdict so far?”
“Jury’s out.” She picks up her coffee mug from the porch railing. “Want some? It’s just regular coffee. Nothing fancy.”
“Sure.”
She disappears inside. Ruffy stays in the yard, torn between following her and keeping tabs on me. Eventually he compromises by lying down on the top step, blocking my path to the door while maintaining a clear sightline.
“Smart,” I tell him. “Strategic.”
His ear twitches.
I look around the yard. It’s beautiful in a chaotic way—flowers everywhere, mismatched pots, a small vegetable garden in the corner. Clearly Eleanor’s work, but Delilah’s maintaining it. Adding to it.
She’s good at that. Planting things in other people’s spaces. The problem is she never stays long enough to see them grow.
That’s not fair. I know that’s not fair. But the thought arrives anyway, sharp and automatic, surfacing the way it does every time I let my guard down. Ten years of songwriting fuel, right there. The bitterness I built three albums on.
She returns with two mugs and hands me one. Our fingers brush, and goosebumps travel up my arm. Neither of us mentions it. I take a sip andstare at the garden instead of at her, because her face makes me forget why I’m supposed to be careful.
“I didn’t know Dean lived one street over,” I say.
“I didn’t either until about three minutes ago.” She sits on the porch steps, and after a moment’s hesitation, I sit on the other end. Ruffy positions himself firmly between us. “Small town.”
“The smallest.”
“Is that why you’re here? For the gym?”
“That was the plan. Before Rex decided to go on an adventure.”
“He’s a handful.”
“He’s obedient.”
