Bachelor Swap - Lacey Black Page 0,57

glance at my phone screen.

No reply.

Sighing, I set my phone on the charger beside my bed and snuggle in, where I toss and turn for another hour, until I finally fall into a fitful sleep.

***

I haven’t heard from Matthew.

As I let one of the dogs outside to run in the designated area for canines, I can’t help but feel that familiar sadness I’ve tried to keep at bay creeping in. I should give him space, knowing his plate is full with the closure of his deal, but yet, I still want to text him, to see how he is and why he’s too busy to respond to a simple message.

Did something happen?

What if he’s sick or hurt? He doesn’t have family too close by. Would he reach out to his parents or even his twin brother for help if he needed it? A month ago, I would doubt it, but as I get to know him and I’ve seen the slightly softer side of Matthew Wilder, I believe he would.

Maybe another quick message wouldn’t hurt.

He could have just completely gotten sidetracked and forgotten to reply.

I bet that’s it.

Grabbing my phone, I fire off a quick text.

Me: Just wanted to check in and see how you are. Hope your Friday is going well.

My heart is pounding as I wait to see the bubbles appear, but after ten very long seconds, the message only shows as delivered. Again.

I place my phone into my pocket and step out into the canine pen. It’s my day to exercise the dogs, which will also include cleaning up after them, so I’m careful not to step in anything I shouldn’t. The Jack Russell Terrier I just let go is running like crazy, tongue hanging, as she enjoys the fresh air and sunshine. Aubrey is a little on the hyper side, not surprising since she’s less than two, so we like to let her get some of her running done before we let more dogs out to play. I head over to the water bowl and make sure it’s full of fresh water before I take a seat in the wooden chair at the edge of the pen.

After watching her play for fifteen minutes, I grab my phone and check it, only to find my message still unread.

My heart sinks.

The exact same thing happened a few weeks ago. Matthew became too busy and started calling or messaging me less and less. The little things he did to show me he was thinking of me stopped and the dinner dates all but ceased. It wasn’t until I showed up on his doorstep for dinner and threw myself at him that I really felt any spark toward him.

Now, that spark is alive and growing.

And it may be coming to an end.

I move to the grassy area, careful of any doggy surprises, and have a seat. Aubrey comes running, jumping on my legs and wanting to play. Being on the ground with her helps lift my spirits, but not much. I still feel the weight of his unspoken replies, a dread that fills my entire soul.

I spend the next few hours with the dogs. Most of them play well together, but the ones that don’t will get a little outside time alone. Those are the ones that are just not used to having other dogs around. They tend to be a little more vocal in their displeasure of being out here with others, and until they learn to adjust, we tread lightly with them. We don’t force any of them to be with other dogs if they’re not ready.

By late afternoon, all of the dogs have been walked, have played in the yard, been fed, and are back in their kennels. Some immediately curl up on their bed for a quick nap. I glance over, knowing my time volunteering today is coming to an end, and spy Hattie giving me the sad eyes. All on their own, my legs carry me over to her kennel and reach for the latch. Hattie’s tail starts thumping against the kennel as excitement takes over.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone I’m doing this, okay?” I instruct, grabbing a leash off the nail by where she’s kept and slipping it onto her collar. Hattie’s tail thumps even louder.

I lead the dog outside for a second time today and release her leash as soon as we’re secure in the fenced in area. “There you go,” I say, smiling as the pup takes off like a bullet.

She jumps on