Page 9 of My Heart to Find

Damien squints up at me, and I study his face, try to imprint it into my memory even more, ready to draw later. Those blue eyes, the square jaw, the narrow nose, the dark blond hair that’s slightly wavy.

“Aren’t you hot with all those layers on?” he asks.

I sure am, and I know my face is red and sweaty, but I shake my head. I can’t take any of the layers off anyway. Not out here.

“I’ve got to get him inside,” I say. “Don’t want to be late.”

“Ah, okay,” Damien says. He’s still smiling at Riley, but then he glances at me. “Nice to see you, though. And you and Riley will have to show me the best walks around here. Don’t want to disappoint any of my clients.”

“Sure,” I say, even though the OCD is telling me that’s never going to happen. I’m not going for a walk with Damien and Riley. I can’t. It’s too dangerous, being near so much contamination. And if Damien’s walking other people’s dogs, he is going to be covered in all sorts of dog hair and particles and bad stuff.

But if you don’t go, you’ll regret it... You’ll prove River right again. Because if you go on a date, you can’t be boring.

Damien pulls out a business card from his pocket. “My number’s on that—if you want to call me.”

He’s holding the card out and I have to take it, and I don’t want to touch it, even though I’ve got gloves on. But I have to.

I take it gingerly.Damien Noelle. Professional dog-walker, qualified in dog first-aid. Can walk dogs alone or in groups.

“See you then,” he says, turning away.

“See you,” I echo, and I feel sick as I head into the vet.

CHAPTER FIVE

Damien

IGAVE CARA MY NUMBER. Again—didn’t the first time teach me the lesson? What the hell was I thinking? I groan as I walk back home. How desperate did I come across? As if I am still pining for her after three years? Three years since I gave her my number and she never called me. Hell, did she even look pleased to see me?

I swallow hard, feeling my face get redder and redder. Oh, God. She’s going to think I’ve been waiting for her call all these years. And that I’m not getting her hints.

But Ihavebeen thinking about her all this time. You don’t spend two weeks with someone like Cara—someone who you just click so well with—and then not think about them.

“Snap out of it,” I tell myself—because I’m one of those people who talks to himself too. Ha. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t interested in me after all.

My new apartment isn’t far away, and by the time my key is in the door, I’ve got about an hour until my first appointment. An elderly lady living in the same block of flats wants me to walk her golden retriever. She phoned me last night, mere hours after I’d moved in. I hadn’t had a chance to get any of my cards out anywhere, but I’d talked to a bloke in the foyer by the lift as I was waiting for the removals company and told him what I do. Guess news travels fast.

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