Page 6 of Love You Too

She rolls her eyes. “Figures you’d have a designer dog,” she mutters. I see her hand flutter as she resists the urge to pet him. I say nothing, just wait for the inevitable to overcome her, and she reaches for his head and scratches him between his curly, floppy ears.

“He knows you’re talking about him. Smart boy.”

“Not smart enough to know he shouldn’t run through a parking lot.”

“Smart enough to find the prettiest woman in six counties.” I lock eyes with her and dare her to believe I’m sincere, even though I know I don’t deserve her goodwill.

“Just six counties?” She retorts. “I’m not falling for your pretty one-liners, Ren. Those days are long gone.”

I study her face, wanting to find some sign that she doesn’t mean what she’s saying. Maybe she doesn’t hate me as much as I always presumed she did. She looks serious, frustrated with me. It’s a look I remember well, and it brings back the end of ourrelationship when I insulted her with lame explanations and excuses.

“And you didn’t answer my question. The Otters play in Oakland. What are you doinghere?”

“I bought a place.” I point in the distance as though she can see it from here.

Her jaw clenches, and her eyes grow bigger before she looks away. Kicking a toe into the gravel beneath her feet, she brushes some dust from the back of her shirt. Despite her attempt to act casual, she understands that I intend to be here more permanently. Her eyes flit from my face to a tote bag on my shoulder branded with a logo from a fancy paint store.

“Didn’t know you were a winemaker.”

“I’m not. At least not yet.”

She rolls her eyes. Probably seen a dozen of the likes of me, rich guys strolling into town, thinking we can design some cute wine labels and add a vineyard to our collection of toys. She’s wrong about her assumptions, but I’m not going to insult her intelligence with my tale of being swept off my feet by a sunset and a few birds. Or tell her the real reason I bought it.

“Well, good luck to you.”

Holding her cumbersome stack of fabric swatches against one hip, she tucks a wayward strand of hair behind one ear. I bend down to pick up her spilled cup of coffee and its lid a few feet away because it’s the least I can do, but I wish I could say I’m a better guy than that. I wish I could pretend I didn’t notice the perfect swell of her hip and the curve of her cheek. I wish I could say with a straight face that the sight of it didn’t make my dick twitch in my pants. I wish I could forget that five minutes ago, she blurted that she needs to get laid.

But I can’t do any of it, and from the way her face heats when she catches me looking, she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Stop that.” Turning to go, she drops the coffee cup and empty pastry bag into a nearby trash can. Hefting a stackof fabric under one arm, she attempts to move past me. “Bye, Ren.”

“Bye, Trix.”

Truman’s head whips from one of us to the other, seemingly confused about why our encounter is ending.

“You and me both, bud,” I want to say. He runs after Beatrix and leaps in circles around her. For a second, I fear he’ll trip her, but she steadies herself before turning to glare at me. All the while, she pets Truman and alternates between smiling at him and scowling at me. “Is that leash just for decoration?” She points at the leash dangling uselessly from my hand.

I should have slung it around my dog’s neck. Would have, if she hadn’t distracted me so much. “Fully functional.”

“Use it,” she calls, crouching down in front of Truman. She looks him in the eye while talking to him calmly. “You’re going to go with your dad here, and I’m going to leave, okay? He’s going to get some fancy asshole coffee, and hopefully you can use that trick where you knock it out of his hands. Okay, good boy?” She smiles at him.

“Nice,” I say sarcastically. It’s my turn to roll my eyes.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“Are we really at war, Trix? Come on, it’s been a decade. Maybe we can start fresh as adults. I’m not the bad guy you think I am.”

“I think I know exactly who you are, Ren.”

I smile at her and shake my head. I can’t help it. Her feisty streak amuses the hell out of me. The more riled up she gets, the more I want to push her a little harder, even though the woman already looks like she just might choke me with my own dog leash.

“Can I at least buy you a new cup of coffee? If you’re anything like me, you won’t get far this morning without it.”

She peers at me like I’m strange. “It’s not morning. That was cup number three for me.”

Glancing at the time, I see that it’s late in the afternoon. I stayed up half the night drawing up plans for what I think I want to do with the main house on the property, only to rip them up this morning. I’m not further along with all my imagined woodworking projects than I was when our season ended and I started working on the place.

“I think you’re the one who referred to it as breakfast. Fine. Let me get your afternoon caffeine fix and a new muffin.”

She shakes her head.

---