Page 88 of Pulled Away

“Relax. Today’s going to be a huge success. You’ll see.”

If it is, it’s all because of my friends. They’ve truly gone above and beyond for this, making their businesses available, placing fliers in their shops to create awareness, and drumming up sponsorships.

I’m concerned that the tickets haven’t all sold out, but people can still buy them at the venue, so there’s still time.

“How did it go?”

My eyes are anxiously trying to pick Kallan’s expression apart when he walks into Frosty’s. He helped man Carter’s boat, so if he’s here, it means the cruise is over, and people will soon start trickling in.

He sighs, his big shoulders heaving. “The bad news is, we lost a dog. The good news is we managed to save the owner who jumped overboard to save him. Or her. It’s hard to say with all that fur. Anyway, it was close, though.”

I stare at him, my jaw slack, picturing the lawsuit I’m about to face.

“Now, where’s Bailey?”

He doesn’t wait for my answer, making a beeline straight to the kitchen.

My head whips back to the door, where a laughing Aiden walks in. “Relax, sunshine. He’s pulling your leg.”

My relief is so great that my knees almost buckle. I’m going to freaking murder him.

“So it all went well?” I ask, anxiously wringing my hands.

“Without a hitch.” He boops my nose. “The people loved it. The dogs too, from what I could tell, not that I’m an expert.”

I mutter a thanks to the heavens. About to return to the kitchen, I stop when Ryan walks in.

My attempts to question his move haven’t led to anything. Everyone has been annoyingly vague, telling me to just ask him directly, but I haven’t done that since I messaged him that night. By the time I got home, the shock had worn off, and I realized it was none of my business. I’ve told him many times we were done, so how can I expect him to give me answers?

It hurts, but it is what it is.

“Well, that was something.” Smiling, he runs his hands through the tangled mess of his hair.

My jaw clenches against the thudding ache in my chest as I take him in. I used to run my hand through his hair. Often. I just need this feeling to stop, damn it. I’ve been excited all day. The last thing I need is for this familiar sorrow to steal it away from me.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here today.”

Which is stupid, really. He was there that night at Frosty’s, so he must have been in on the plan.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, he shrugs, looking around the still-empty Frosty’s. “Carter needed all the help he could get with that many people.”

As if talking about him summoned him, Carter walks in with a huge smile on his face. “We were filled to capacity. Who knew so many people would be keen to take their dogs out on a harbor cruise? I might just add this to my catalog. Make it a monthly thing.” He slaps Ryan on the back. “Good thinking, batman,” he murmurs, but not soft enough.

Ryan gives him a dirty look and my eyes narrow.

“Anyway,” he says, drawing the word out, “Are you ready for the onslaught that’s on its way?”

I nod, not taking my eyes off Ryan, who’s looking at everything but me, taking in what we’ve done with the place. Instead of live music, we’ll be using the jukebox, and the area where the band usually plays will serve as a dance floor. We’ve moved tables around to make space for a rectangular table by the wall across from the bar. That’s where the raffle will be happening.

I drag my eyes back to Carter when it becomes obvious that Ryan’s committed to his path of avoidance.

“The food is done, just some last touches to go, and FYI, Nathan missed his calling. He should have been a drill sergeant.”

He was paranoid we’d burn his kitchen down or something to that effect, treating us like a bunch of five-year-olds who’ve never seen the inside of a kitchen.

Who knew there was a certain way to chop onions? After today, I’m sure if the rescue doesn’t work out, I’d be a shoo-in for the job as a professional onion chopper if such a thing existed. I certainly feel and smell like one.

Better than Rose, I suppose, who smells like a garlic farm.

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