Bree blinked. “What does that mean?”
“You and Colin? You’re pregnant and starting a family, but something is obviously going on with you two that you’re refusing to talk about.”
Bree lifted her chin. Lainey had pushed too far. “That’s not fair. You don’t get to bring up my pregnancy or my marriage to score points. Colin is the father of my baby.”
Lainey gave the pipe one last tighten and then stood up. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right.” She tested the sink again, not even caring when the water sprayed on her stomach before pushing out all the air in the pipes. “The kiss just put me in a weird mood,” she explained. Then she packed up her things and raced to the home she’d just told her best friend she was desperate to leave.
Elliot was gone by the time she got there. Where she’d seen him last was now a pile of cut lumber. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the planks were labeled in pencil. He’d planned out the deck like a thoughtfully designed adult jigsaw puzzle. She smiled, then looked around to make sure he wasn’t there to see.
She hauled the long pieces of wood behind the house, piece by piece, fastening them together with the same care and precision Elliot had used to draw up the plan. She was only able to build out the frame based on his plan before the sun started to set. They’d have to move it all again to install the posts tomorrow, but she was pleased with this start.
Her eyes flicked to the side of the house when she heard a noise. She wasn’t waiting for Elliot—not really—but she did momentarily picture his reaction to seeing his plans come to life.
She liked Elliot. She liked that when he made coffee in the morning, he always offered her a cup, half full with milk. She liked how his lips pursed when he frowned at his computer, like it was an enemy to be outmaneuvered. She liked that the only time he’d left beard hairs scattered in the sink, he’d cleaned the basin without her having to say anything.
But what she liked most about Elliot Hodges was that he was observant. He noticed things—about the world, about other people—just as she did. He made her feel less strange, the way his eyes would tangle up in a beehive nested under the porch of one of his cabins.
“A perfect hexagon every time. Don’t you just love beehives?” he’d asked her the morning before last.
“Actually, yes,” she’d responded with a small, embarrassed laugh.
It was the kind of thing she was known to remark upon and was usually met with polite but perplexed nods.
When she thought of him, she imagined things that sounded simple—a beehive, a cup of coffee, a porch—but were anything but.
The sun set. She covered their project with a tarp and placed her tools in the carport. That was when she spotted Elliot’s truck.When had he gotten home?she wondered.
But he wasn’t alone. A fluffy brown tail swiped across the passenger’s-side window, followed by an all-too-familiar thigh in a pair of navy shorts. She crept around to the side of the truck cab, where her nail made a tap, tap, tap against the window. “Did the turtle adventure awaken something in you? Are we dealing in coyotes now?”
He whipped his head around to face her. His glasses were crooked, and his hair was charmingly mussed. His face lit up when he saw her and his shoulders loosened, as though every muscle in his body was sighing in relief. “Thank god you’re here,” he said.
An unreasonably pleased expression unfurled on her face. “Me?” she asked. She should have been embarrassed, but she couldn’t manage to feel anything besides dizzy when he waslooking at her like that. Like she was the solution rather than the problem itself. “Do you need me to open the door?”
He shook his head. “No? Or, maybe yes?” He tugged at the top of his hair and swung his gaze between her and the dog. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Whose dog is that?” If she was a witness to a dognapping, it was best to know that now so she could begin arranging their alibis.
“Mine?” His voice went up like it was a question. He reached over the dog to push open the rear door, revealing the business end of a pair of furry legs. “It wasn’t planned. I went to the shelter, just to look—”
“Famous last words,” she remarked.
“I’d always wanted a dog back in DC, but I didn’t have the time or the space to give an animal the life it deserved. But now…with all this property…I just wanted to know about the process of adopting a puppy. I wasn’t going to do anything without asking you first, but when they showed me the kennels in the back, this old boy looked straight into my soul.”
“Yourwholesoul, huh?” She tried very hard not to laugh at him.
He looked down, a small blush coloring his skin. “I had to take him, Lainey. I’m sorry. I had to.”
She looked between him and the mound of shivering animal fur beside him.Couldn’t leave an adult dog behind at the shelterwould definitely be going on the growing list of things she liked about Elliot.
She scowled, just for show. “You never go to the back room with a dog adoption coordinator. You’re such an easy mark, Hodges.”
“I know! I’m weak.” He ran a hand through that hair of hisagain. “I’m only fostering him, so we’re not his forever home. But she warned me that it can take some time to find homes for older dogs. I wouldn’t, like, adopt a whole-ass dog without talking to you first.”
“It’s fine, Elliot.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve actually always wanted a dog. Specifically, the dog actor who played Wishbone, but I’m not sure if that was ever a realistic goal.”
Gran had never been much of a pet person. She claimed it was because she believed that animals, just like people, weren’t meant to be “kept.” But Lainey suspected it had more to do with Gran’s assertion that dogs “left their shoes on” wherever they went.
After Gran moved out, pets were still out of the question. Dogs required reliability, which had never been her thing. But it’d been weeks since she’d had a headache so debilitating that she couldn’t stand long enough to let a dog out, and besides, Elliot was here now.
