Four
The next morning, I was woken up by Dozer softly grunting in my ear. His paws were on the bed and his face was only inches from mine. His entire body shook from his tail furiously wagging when he noticed that my eyes were opening.
“Guess someone needs a walk.”
Walk—that pesky magic word that sends dogs into a tizzy of excitement. Dozer was no exception to that rule. He bolted to my bedroom door and started doing spin move after spin move, all too excited to venture into the busy hustle and bustle world of Manhattan.
I glanced over at my clock. I had two hours before I had to meet Brett and his author friend for brunch. I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and laced up my sneakers after scrubbing off all the makeup from the day before and throwing my hair up into a loose ponytail.
The sun was shining into my living room from my balcony so nicely; it was the perfect morning for a quick run with Dozer. I shot off a quick text to Brett as we walked out the door.
Me: Taking Dozer for a run. Can we go somewhere dog friendly? I want to bring him to brunch.
Brett: Sure. How about the place right down the block from you? They have the best brioche French toast in town and we can sit outside.
Me: Perfect. See you there in a little while.
Dozer and I set off at a pretty good pace on our normal route in the park. Since it was Sunday morning, Central Park was crawling with joggers, tourists, and artists, and most of the benches were taken around the Alice in Wonderland statue. Dozer slowed and pulled me right to the bushes so he could sniff and pee on almost every branch.
“What kind of dog is that?” That voice, that accent—it was so familiar.
I whipped around to see a guy, just about my age, standing a little too close for comfort. Dozer, of course, trotted over to him, tail wagging. What a great protector he was.
Then I noticed them: the soft, gorgeous, honey colored eyes from the hotel lounge. Sir William Wallace in the flesh.
Shit, I forgot his real name.
“Savanna, right?” His voice was so silky. His eyes were so stunning. His jaw was so ridged. He was so attractive.
I shook my head. “I lied. It was roleplaying.” My face immediately flared hot as the words left my tongue.
Way to go, very smooth!
“So that dick really was your boyfriend.” His lips pulled down in a frown. A light layer of sweat was covering his reddened face; it was clear he had been out for a morning jog, too. His soaked gray shirt clung to every muscle while his chest heaved slowly.
“Not exactly. He turned out to be a cheat.”
“Sorry to hear that.” The way his lips turned up at the corners told another story.
Dozer nudged his leg and grunted. “Oh, this is Dozer. That means he wants you to pet him.”
Sir Wallace knelt down and started patting him on the back. I cleared my throat. “I’m Jolene. Most people call me Joey. And he’s a bull terrier.”
“He’s a cool dog.” Sir Wallace got back to his feet. “Well, again, I’m Finn. Still just Finn. It’s nice to actually meet you, Joey.”
“You too.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around?”
“If you run Sunday mornings, you probably will.”
With that he took off jogging, quickly glancing over his shoulder to wave goodbye at me. I pulled Dozer’s travel bowl out of my backpack, gave him a little water, and then started to jog toward my meeting. Finn’s eyes were all I could picture the entire time. They were freaking gorgeous.
I took a seat at an outside table and tied Dozer to the table leg. I was about twenty minutes early, but that was typical. I would always rather be excessively early than even two minutes late.
Me: Just got us a table. Are you almost here?
Brett: Be there in ten minutes. The models and Kathy are running a little behind.
