Graham hollers my name from the nearest guard tower. He waves, then points to his wristwatch.
“Time to do this.” I put on my game face—one that’s gotten me through more rough spots than I care to remember.
Zane gives me a look that tells me I’m not fooling him. “You’ve got this, Nick.”
I nod but say nothing. Graham and Zane are the only ones who know my story—where I come from and the family I try to steer clear of. The last thing I need is the ‘I told you so’ guilt trip my parents would inevitably spring on me. They’ve never understood my decision to leave law school and go into lifeguarding instead.
But this is my life we’re talking about, and I’ve learned to choose the path that means the most to me—not to please my parents. And I’ll do whatever is necessary to get the life and career I’ve built back on track.
Even if it requires trusting a girl with pigtails, holding a wiggly puppy.
Graham steersdown Mango Lane and parks in front of the pet shop. He didn’t mention he needed to make a stop to see hisbrother Liam, but I’m just the passenger. I figure I’ll wait in the car while he takes care of business.
But he comes around to my side and opens the door. “You coming or what?”
I frown at him and glance at the storefront. “We’re at your brother’s place.”
Graham bobs his head. “Right. Also where Hannah’s office is.”
“Inside Liam’s shop?” I think my voice went up an octave.
“Notinthe store. Next to it. Kind of attached, actually. Liam never rented out the space to a new groomer, so when Hannah told us she wanted to move back, he let her have it.”
Now I’m having serious doubts, but I’m willing to play this out. I climb out of the car. “Does she help Liam in the store between clients?”
He shrugs his wide shoulders and tilts his head. “Something like that.”
I once suggested to Graham that if lifeguarding didn’t work out for him, he should consider pursuing a career as a stunt double for Jason Momoa, especially for the Aquaman movies. Graham could easily pass for that dude, and he has the attitude to match. And mad water skills, obviously, which is kind of funny when I think about it. Sometimes, I even call him Aquaman.
But he isn’t usually evasive unless he’s concerned about something or someone. Now I’m on edge in anticipation of whatever he’s holding back.
In the handful of times I’ve gone with Graham to his brother’s shop, I’ve never paid close attention to the stone path that branches off to the left near the steps to the main door. The landscaping to the right looks fresh, and a crisp white sign sits near the entrance to Hannah’s office with green letters that say, ‘Please keep your pet on a leash or in a carrier.’
That’s enough to give me pause, which I do. I stop walking as Graham reaches for the door that sports another sign with Hannah’s name and credentials.
“What’s that about?” I point to the first sign.
He clears his throat and stares at his clown feet, which is what I call them since the guy is built like a linebacker. He actually got drafted in college for a football team, but his heart was, and always will be, in lifeguarding.
As is mine.
He meets my questioning gaze. “Just trust me, okay? If you want to get full use of your arm and shoulder back, she’s the one to do it.”
His earnestness settles my fears, for the moment anyway. “Fine, but the minute it gets weird, I’m gone.”
He nods and opens the door.
A pleasant scent fills my nose as I walk in. I can’t identify it, but the calming effect is immediate. It’s a modest space decorated in warm tones of beige and pale green. A small desk sits in front of a window to the left and to the right, a massage table draped in fabric. Opposite the entrance is a largish nook that contains a treadmill on the left, a series of exercise bands hanging from hooks on the back wall, and on the right, a metal box-like contraption with glass panes that resembles an oversized microwave. I can’t make sense of it, but I know I am not getting into that thing.
A door on the connecting wall to the pet shop opens, and in walks Hannah. Except she’s not that teenager with curly pigtails holding a squiggling puppy anymore. I don’t know what I was expecting, but certainly not the woman standing in front of me, flashing a wide smile surrounded by full, pert lips. Those strawberry blonde curls I remember surround her head, loose and stacked to her shoulders in a tamed wildness that suits this mature version of her. And she’s dressed in dark blue scrubswith her name and credentials embroidered under her left shoulder.
No puppy this time. Just a smile that makes the knot in my throat double in size and eyes that challenge anyone not to accept her exactly as she is.
Did I mention she’s drop-dead gorgeous? Not just on the outside. Something about her pulls at me on a magnetic level. I’m intensely drawn to her in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“Hi, Nick.” She blinks, bringing my attention to hazel eyes resembling her brothers’. Yet golden flecks surround her irises, reminding me of a sunset.
All of this whips through my sleep-deprived brain until I realize my chin is probably hanging somewhere near my chest at this point. Way to make a first impression.
