“You didn’t say your dog was the size of a Canadian province.”
His face falls. “He is really well-trained and quiet. Doesn’t bark hardly at all, I swear,” Logan sighs. “If I work a night shift, Terra takes him. He’s rarely home alone.”
“I just…I mean he could eat one of my dogs and not even notice. And trust me, they might give him reason to. They’re slightly…well, to be blunt, they can be bullies,” I say. Before Logan can respond, Stevie bounds down the steps, which takes me by surprise because I can’t remember the last time she moved that quickly. Before I can scoop her up, Logan rushes forward and picks her up. He scratches the top of her head. Chewie raises his enormous head to sniff at Stevie’s dangling paws. “Hey sweetheart, what’s your name?”
“That’s Stevie and she’s very old and—oh God!”
Suddenly, Logan puts Stevie on the ground in front of Chewie. Stevie’s entire body is about the size of Chewie’s paw so when he bends down and they’re nose-to-nose, I gasp. I’m worried Chewie will scarf her down like she’s a peanut M&M and he’s me on my period. Boss squirms in my hands and whines as I rush down the stairs to save Stevie. Clearly, Boss is eager to meet this new monster too.
“He’s a gentle giant, I would stake my life on it,” Logan says and lifts a hand to his heart. “Let him say hello, too.”
I slowly bend down and put Boss on the ground because Logan seems to be right. Stevie’s tail is wagging and so is Chewie’s as they continue to sniff each other. Boss darts for Chewie and growls, which makes my heart pound in fear. Chewie turns to Boss and then drops down onto the grass and rolls over, offering Boss his gargantuan belly. Even Boss looks startled by Chewie’s instant surrender, but he recovers and goes straight to sniffing Chewie’s privates. Stevie joins him.
“Okay, enough, we are not making a doggie porno here,” I say biting back a smile. “Let me show you and Chewie the apartment.”
I pick up Stevie in one arm and whistle for Boss to follow me and he does. Well, actually he follows Chewie as we make our way around to the side of the house where the door to the newly renovated suite is. I hesitate. “It’s not huge, like I said. Everything is new but not high-end or fancy.”
Logan is standing right behind me, an impatient look on his face. “I’m a small-town paramedic who moonlights as a fisherman for my family restaurant. What about that screams fancy to you?”
He looks amused more than annoyed as he waits for me to respond, but I have no idea what to say so I just open the door and motion for him to go in. I thought the ceilings were fairly high but now that Logan is standing in it, I realize they aren’t. If Logan extends his arms fully above his head, his fingertips would definitely touch. But if it bugs him, he doesn’t say anything. Instead his eyes sweep over the kitchen and across the small peninsula into the living room. “Nice countertops and is that a working wood stove?”
I nod. “Pellet stove. Brand new. I splurged on that because it’s electric baseboard heat and didn’t want you…I mean whoever rents it…to freeze.”
There’s a twinkle in his eye at my blunder but he doesn’t say anything. Five minutes later, after he’s glanced in both bedrooms and looked at the bathroom briefly, he turns to me in the middle of the living room. “So, can I sign the lease? I brought checks for first and last too.”
“Oh,” I blink. Stevie barks in my arms, so I put her down. She immediately walks over to Logan and puts her front paws up on his shin, indicating she wantshimto pick her up, which he does without hesitation. The dog who hates everyone. Huh. “Well, I have an application you can fill out.”
“You have other people interested?”
“I haven’t even listed it yet,” I confess and feel my cheeks heat for some reason. “I was actually going to put it on a couple rental sites today.”
“Well, now you don’t have to,” Logan says and pushes up his sleeves. It’s freezing and they’re predicting snow any day now, yet he didn’t bring a coat. He nervously runs a hand through his hair again, which somehow doesn’t mess up the perfect wave it’s got going on. “I swear we are both model tenants and Ireallyneed this place.”
Chewie is wandering down the hall toward the bedrooms, and Boss is following along behind him. Then he wanders back and Boss follows. He’s looking up at Chewie like he’s just found a long lost relative, which is hysterical but I’m too flabbergasted to even chuckle.
“You know this is a very quiet neighborhood,” I say cautiously because I don’t want him to have regrets either. “Everyone who lives here, except for me, kind of looks like an extra fromGrace and Frankie.”
His face softens with what looks like despair as he interrupts me. “I don’t smoke. I don’t drink. I haven’t been to a party in five years let alone thrown one. And the reason I need this apartment is because I have a son named River who just turned five. My ex has custody and I see him for a few hours every other day, but I’m hoping to get him for entire weekends and holidays, which is why I wanted a two bedroom. Yours is the best one in the best area that I can afford.”
So now he’s not just a handsome, hard-working, quiet paramedic who my snarly dogs seem to love, he’s also a dedicated single dad too. Jesus, even my dark, cold heart can no longer deny this guy. I take a deep breath. “Let’s sign the lease.”
3
Logan
It’sthe Monday after Thanksgiving and as I glance at the lighthouse shaped clock on the wall behind the counter, I can barely read it because Nova’s already got the Christmas decorations up and it’s covered in tinsel garland. Tiny, multi-colored lights line each window and approximately seven hundred tiny lobster stuffies wearing Santa hats hang from strings across the middle of the windows, making it almost impossible to see out. Of course, the white-out snowstorm happening out there isn’t helping either at the moment.
I give up on trying to see the hands on the clock and pull my cell out of my back pocket. Fifteen more minutes and I can turn the sign on the door from open to closed. I’ll finally be allowed to sit back, eat one of the delicious lobster rolls I’ve been serving for three hours, and enjoy the end of the Bruins game on TV. I scrub the counter and glance around the lobster shack. It’s not really a shack, but my grandparents named it Hawkins Lobster Shack when it actually was a shack beside the dock they sold live lobsters and clams out of.
My parents built the much bigger structure that is the thirty-table restaurant when they took it over twenty years ago. Still, the name never changed. The only person in the family to call it anything else is my older brother Declan. He recently started calling it Hawkins Family Lobster House and has been bugging us to officially change the name. He says our food is too good, and since we renovated the place six years ago and added a liquor license and built a bar made from river rock and reclaimed wood, it’s too nice to be called a shack anymore. Every time Declan brings it up, my dad says, “We’re a simple, good old-fashioned Maine family serving simple, good old-fashioned food with a simple, good old-fashioned name.” My mom is more blunt, telling her first born repeatedly, “I need a fancy new name like I need a hole in the head. Now shush.”
I smile thinking about it, but then the woman who has been sitting by herself at a table at the back catches my eye, and my smile falters. She’s been glaring at me all night. I walk down the counter, tossing the cleaning rag in the sink behind me, and stop in front of my best friend Jake. He showed up half an hour ago, sat himself at the counter between one of the five tiny, fake, fully decorated Christmas trees Nova put out, and is waiting for me to finish so we can hang out. I lean my elbows on the counter. “I have a question for you but be subtle when I ask you.” I say, lowering my voice.
He nods and takes a sip from his bottle of Sam Adams. “Sure thing.”
“Do you know that woman sitting by herself at the back?”
There are only two other parties in here. Four twenty-somethings that seem to be on a double date and an older couple finishing their lobster chowder. Jake puts his bottle down and spins around on his stool quickly and dramatically, drawing the attention of every single person in the place. I sigh and mutter “asshole” under my breath.
