to smile. “And how’d you know what I eat?”
“I’m observant. A man doesn’t work as hard as you do to maintain that physique, only to eat just about anything that is placed on a plate.”
I didn’t know what to say to his observation, so I kept my mouth shut, and we ate in silence. Most people I knew would have felt the need to break the silence with mindless chatter, but he didn’t. He allowed me to keep my thoughts private while I would’ve killed to know what were his.
Was he thinking about me? About last night?
He didn’t speak until he poured me another cup of coffee.
“How’s your head?”
“My head?” His nearness fucked with my senses.
The bergamot-and-vanilla spice overpowered my olfactory neurons and shut down everything else. Until his hand cradled the back of my head. All the blood rushed downward, giving me an uncomfortable erection.
“You hit your head on the wall last night.” He continued to massage the back of my head. “I don’t feel a bump, so that’s good.”
He stepped away from me, and my vision cleared. My nostrils flared as I inhaled deeply and blinked several times.
“I should go,” I blurted out.
I needed to get the hell out of there before I did something crazy. Like ask August to touch me more intimately to see if I would combust with a more direct skin-against-skin contact.
“You don’t have to go just yet. I’m about to walk Lucky to the park. Want to come along?”
Why on earth would I want to walk a dog with him? But what did I have better to do? Return home to argue with Poppy again about the stunt she’d pulled last night? I’d like to hold off on that conversation as long as possible.
“Okay, but I’m not holding the leash.”
I never had a pet, and I wasn’t keen on having one around now.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, but I reserve the right to try and change your mind.”
August returned with the shy dog and a leash he attached to the dog’s collar and a pair of sandals for me. I almost changed my mind at the footwear but gave in with a sigh. I couldn’t tell the last time I visited a park.
The dog took one look at me and whined, tangling himself around August’s legs.
“It’s okay, love. He won’t bite.”
August crouched down and patted the dog’s head. The animal wasn’t convinced, but the young man was patient as he calmed the timid dog.
“Ready? Let’s go.”
We were almost out the door when August stopped me in the hall. “Hold up.”
He disappeared into the coat closet and emerged with a cap in his hand. Before I could protest about wearing the ugly thing, he jammed it onto my head and pulled the brim down.
“The sun’s hot out today. Lucky loves it.”
“But you’re not wearing one.”
“My skin’s not as fair as yours, so I don’t burn easily. Come on. We won’t be out for too long. Just enough to get him to run around a bit.”
“I guess it’s useful as a disguise.”
August chuckled but felt for my hand and pulled me along with him. That simple connection completely mellowed my mood. I forgot how ridiculous I probably looked and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my legs. As we walked the dog, Lucky’s tail wagged, but every time we passed too close to others, he shied away back to August’s side.
Lucky dog.
“Want to hold the leash?” August asked me when we were almost at the park.
“Nope.”
“Worth a shot.”
I grinned at him as we crossed the street to get to the entrance of the park. He didn’t once release my hand but kept holding on like I was a small child. Or a lover. For once, I didn’t want to worry about what the hand-holding meant but just to enjoy the peaceful moment.
No work. No Poppy. No worrying about a baby that wasn’t biologically mine. Just accompanying a man and his dog. Well, his skittish borrowed dog.
Once in the park, I took a seat as August released Lucky from his leash. He’d carried a ball, and they set off playing. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him and the way he had that shy dog coming to life, barking, running around in circles, and chasing August.
Every minute or so August would glance over to where I sat as though to reassure himself I was still there. At one point, he proposed that if I was bored, I could play with them.
“I’m good,” I called