th? The dogs need us.”
I grin. It feels goofy and completely uncontainable. “For the dogs.” And then, like it’s nothing at all, I tap his screen again and scroll through his phone until I find the app I’m looking for.
Thankfully, for us and my dogs, my place is a straight shot inland with next to empty roads this time of day. The drive will be quick, but I have just enough time to text Arizona.
Life check.
I hit send.
She reads it within seconds. Then she’s typing back.
Two hours from home. On the bus. Winston insisted on towing my car with their hitch thingy. I was sleeping. In Knox’s bed. He better be in yours!
I try to stifle my laugh, but Knox notices.
“Arizona?” he surmises on his own.
“Yep.”
You’re clearly sleep-deprived and talking crazy. Text me when you’re home.
Then I put my phone away, just in time to look up and see we’re pulling into my driveway.
“You can go ahead and just park right there next to the SUV,” I tell him, unbuckling to get out.
“How many people live here, exactly?” he asks, and I notice him checking out the car lot my parents keep in their front yard. Not literally, but it certainly gives that impression.
“My parents live in the main house,” I explain. “And my stepfather collects sportscars,” I answer the real question in his inquiry.
He parks the truck and turns off the engine. “Where do you stay?”
Meanwhile, I’m already opening the door to hop out. “You’ll see.” Now that we’re here, I’m having second thoughts about it. Not true. I had second thoughts on the way already. I pushed them aside. I’m onto third thoughts. Fourth if you count the bout of hesitation I had before I ever even suggested we come here for coffee. If it hadn’t been for the dogs, I’m sure I would have opted to go elsewhere for a cup of joe. Though admittedly, there are few places I find deliver the same satisfying brew I can make in my own kitchen.
Regardless, here we are, and Knox has gotten out of the truck to find my side again, the leather backpack he brought with his essentials slung over his shoulder, hand reaching for mine without any obvious thought or doubt on his end.
“Lead the way,” he says under his breath, keenly aware I’m sure, that my parents’ house is still pitch black and we are the only ones awake and about at this hour.
I don’t say anything, I just start walking, past the garage and around to the small gate in the fence separating our two homes.At this point, he can definitely make out the structure we’re headed for. Still, he walks along in silence, waiting for me to make the next move.
Which I do when we round the corner of the old barn, which has since been converted into a makeshift guest house and arrive at the front door. “Welcome to Frieda.”
“Frieda,” he muses. “That’s a good name.”
“It’s short for freedom.” At least in my head. I’m not sure I ever told Sloan that when I came up with it.
“I like it. Why freedom?” he asks.
“Because this was my way out,” I say, placing my hand on the doorhandle. “And because no one controls any aspect of my life here, but me.” I drop my hand again. Maybe we’re not ready to go in. Maybe I’m not ready. “I realize this probably seems a bit strange, a grown woman living in her parents’ guest house. It’s certainly not where I envisioned raising my daughter or where I hope to live long term. But,” I pause. I’m almost positive I’m about to overshare by a long shot, but I commit to doing it anyway, “Two years into my marriage, I lost every asset I’d acquired on my own. Shortly after, I realized I was never going to have access to anything he built while we were together, and I started looking for ways to create my own income. Some years I did well, others I didn’t. In the end, when the moment to leave showed up, I wasn’t as prepared as I wanted to be, but I couldn’t risk missing my chance. I walked away from everything. So Sloan could walk away with me.” I glance up at Frieda and the chapter of our lives we’ve spent here. “I’m starting over, Knox. From scratch. And it may look pathetic to have wound up here, but it’s so much better than where I left.”
He takes a step toward me, closing in any distance left between us. “I need you to do me a favor,” he growls softly. “Stop trying to assume you know what I see when I look at you. Because you’re getting it all wrong every time you try.” Hepresses his lips to mine and instantly I feel the tension I was holding captive in my body melt away. “Now, can I please come inside and meet your dogs?”
I nod, feeling the smile return to my face. “Yes.”
One last deep breath, this one on account of the noise we’re about to encounter, and then, I open the door and we step inside.
Barking and howling ensues for at least five minutes before I’ve greeted everyone properly and managed to provide introductions adequate to each dog’s needs. Lipa has the loudest bark, but she’s the chillest when it comes to new people. Provided they’re adults. Children other than the one she grew up with, are a different beast entirely. Hannah is the skittish one of the bunch and retreats to hiding under the table the second she realizes Knox is staying. Introducing Knox to Brinna is the most involved ordeal of all because I have to take her outside to meet him. Somehow, she can’t separate her watchdog self from her friendly self when she’s inside. But it’s just as well, because after being in all night, everyone needs some outside time anyway.
Once Knox has thrown her ball for her twice, Brinna’s all too happy to allow him entry. Again. This time, without barking from any of them. Even when he sets down his bag and starts to move around a bit more freely, leaving the entry way, they stay quiet.
