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So. Long(112)

By:Kelley Harvey


She smiles. “You’re pretty close to the top of my list.”

“What? After that, I don’t get top spot?”

She shrugs, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe I want you to try harder.”





ELEVEN





Dave pulls up to the curb. I wait on the front porch, adjusting the small camera pin.

He leans across the car and opens the door, waving me in. “C’mon, or we’ll be late.”

“Late for what?” I buckle up.

He shoots me a grin as he hits the gas. “I have a special evening planned under the lights.”

Oh, thank God. Maybe he’s finally decided he likes me.

I slump a little at the thought.

Guess I have to cut Jack loose. Once Dave kisses me, that’s the cut-off signal. I have to have a point of demarcation, right?

Yes. Definitely.

I cannot be a cheater. If there’s no kissing, then Dave and I are only friends, but once he crosses that line—

Pulling my shoulders back, I grin. And I will be happy about it. This is my career and that trumps crazy hot monkey sex with Jackson Tremaine.

Dave pulls up at a public park. The sun has dipped below the horizon, and the big lights shine almost blindingly. About thirty people mill around with their dogs on leashes. Some sort of obstacle course is corded off in the midst of it all.

“A dog party?” I ask.

He chuckles. “Not a party. An agility course training session. I think you’ll like it. It’s fun.”

Dog. Agility. Training. Not even a competition—just practice?

We saunter over to the sidelines. A tall, dark headed guy lets his Sheltie off the lead. Another person with a timer signals. And it’s off and running.

Dave leans close and whispers, “See, the dog has to make sure to follow the handler’s directions. It has to go fast, but still pay attention to what its master is telling him to do.”

I feign fascination while my career huddles under the nearest tree, dying slowly.

When the Sheltie is finished, some type of terrier takes its mark.

I turn to Dave. “So, you’re a dog lover?”

The guy with the Sheltie approaches. Dave eyes him, smiling like they’re friends. But the man just keeps going, only raising a pinky from the end of the leash for a brief second as he passes, tugging the dog along. The pooch pulls against him, obviously trying to get to Dave.

“Dave?” I ask.

“Ronnie.” Dave swings back to face me with a sigh.

Is he annoyed?

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach.

The rest of the evening is spent walking around the dog course, stopping each time a new dog takes the field. He doesn’t even touch the small of my back. No hand holding. No anything. I touch Shayna more than this when we go out together.

This is a lost cause. I should simply cut my losses and call it a bust. By the time Dave pulls up in front of the house, I’ve decided to do exactly that.

He jumps out and comes around to open my door. “I hope you had fun.”

I sigh.

This is it. Rip off the bandage. “It was nice.”

He smiles. He has pretty eyes. Too bad there’s nothing between us.

Gah. I need to tell him. Deep breath.

“So, Dave—”

“About New Year’s Eve…” he takes my hand.

Oh. Maybe he’s going to ask me out. Maybe he’s just cautious. Maybe—

“I have a family thing out of state. It’s been planned for a while. But, I’d love to get together the next week. Wednesday? I have an idea for something a bit more exciting than dinner or dogs.”

My career gets a second wind and cheers from the sidelines. I let out a relieved sigh. “Yeah, okay. That sounds good.”

He squeezes my hand. I shift from one foot to the other. Waiting.

He lets go of my fingers and places a hand on my shoulder. Is he finally going to kiss me?

I hold my breath. His hand slides across my back as he pulls me in for a side-hug. “Great. I’ll call you on Monday or something.”

He jogs back around his car, hops in, and zooms off with a little wave.

Side-hug? Well, I suppose that’s progress. Not much though.

I drag into the house. I drop my purse on the counter in the kitchen, and my phone vibrates. I fish it out of my bag.

Jackson.

“Hey, Peaches. How was the doggie date?”

Of course. The video feed. “Don’t you have anything better to do than watch me on my dates with Dave?”

He chuckles. “Nope. I still have an hour before I’m on air.”

“Then I hope you were bored to tears.” I almost was.

“So, no plans for New Year’s then?”

I rub the ache forming between my eyebrows. “I guess not. But, that doesn’t mean a thing. He asked me for a date next week. I think he must’ve been hurt in a past relationship and that’s why he’s taking things slow. I’m not out of the game yet.”