“I will, Lou, and thanks for calling. I’ve got this, no problem.”
“I know. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Oh, and Chloe?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t wear your tiara—that dog’s already gonna be spooked enough as it is.”
“You’re pretty funny for an old hippie,” I cracked, and he hung up the phone laughing.
“What’s going on?” Lucas asked.
I sat back against the couch. “I’m getting my first dog tomorrow—I have to pick him up in Salinas.”
“That’s great! Congratulations!” he said. “Want me to go with you?”
I did. I really did. But I needed to do this on my own. So I shook my head and politely declined.
“Well, if you change your mind, just call me. I’m taking the late shift tomorrow night, so my morning’s free. You let me know.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be okay. I’ll be fine.” I nodded my head vigorously.
“Well, then, I’ll let you get some sleep for your big day.”
He helped me bring the cups into the kitchen, then I walked him to the door. He lingered a bit in the open doorway. “So listen, tonight. I had a really good time.”
“As good as paddleboarding?” I asked, smiling up at him.
“Different kind of good time.” He nodded, and leaned down. I held my breath. But all he did was place a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Good luck tomorrow. You call me if you decide you need some help, promise?” he whispered.
I could only nod. Because his lips on my forehead were, in fact, enough to make me breathless.
“Night, Chloe.”
Then he was off the porch and into his truck, starting the ignition. As his taillights splashed across the back of my convertible, I realized . . . Fudge—I can’t pick up a pit bull in a convertible!
“Hey, Lucas, wait! I need your truck tomorrow!” I called out, running after him.
Ah, well, you couldn’t do everything alone.
chapter nine
Lucas picked me up bright and early, with coffee and donuts from Red’s: every kind of chocolate donut they made, apparently. He’d brought me chocolate glazed, devil’s food, chocolate cream filled, and even half a dozen chocolate donut holes.
“There were originally a dozen, but they were rather demanding,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“The donut holes were demanding?”
“That I eat them, yes.”
“Well, donut holes’ll do that from time to time.” I snorted and took the bag from him.
“Based on the pudding and the Pop-Tarts, chocolate seemed like the way to go,” he said, side-eyeing me as he spoke.
“Safe bet,” I answered, cramming one into my mouth. “Niiiiice.”
We drove along, heading inland toward Salinas. My knee was swinging back and forth, my hand was tapping on my thigh as I chain-ate donut holes one right after the other.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“A little,” I admitted. “Is that weird?”
“Not even a little,” he assured.
“It’s just . . . I don’t know, it’s like my first day on a job. Up until now, it’s just been painting and fixing and filing and planning. But now?”
“Now it’s real,” he said, answering my unasked question.
“Exactly. Now it’s real.” I popped in another donut hole, chewed, then said, “What if I suck?”
“I sincerely doubt that.” He laughed, handing me his coffee. “Here, add another sugar, will you?”
“Seriously, though, what if I’m not good at this?” I asked, adding his sugar, then stirring. “What if it’s too much? What if—”
“What if you get bitten? What if you let the wrong dog out at the wrong time, and you’re chasing the runaway with a flashlight at midnight? What if your favorite gets adopted?” He merged onto the highway, then looked at me briefly. “Those are all things that’ll happen—I can guarantee it.”
“Is this my ‘get ready for greatness’ speech? Because it’s starting out a little strange,” I said, handing back his coffee. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He sipped, then set it in the cup holder. “My point is, all of those what-ifs are out there, but so are these: What if you get to throw tennis balls for two hours one day, and that’s your job? What if you get to be there when one of these females has a litter of pups? What if you meet the dog of your dreams?” He smiled, and reached out to steady my knee, which was still tap-tap-tapping away. “What if you fall in love with this new life? And it all starts with getting this first dog?” He pointed to the sign that said Salinas.