Page 29 of An Engagement Pact

“Yes. It’s totally fine.” I’m honestly surprised, so it’s not hard to convey the feeling. “I definitely still want to do this.”

“Okay. Good.”

His silence this time is thoughtful, reflective. I have no idea what he’s thinking about, but I know for sure it’s about me.

We walk for a couple of miles before we turn around to head back, sometimes in silence and sometimes making small talk. Right as we turn, a daring squirrel darts across the trail from one tree to another, clearly thinking it was safe because we’d just passed by.

Startled by that disrespect and intrusion, Sasha’s instincts overtake her training. She barks sharply and lunges toward the squirrel. Hard.

I squeal in surprise as the lead yanks painfully on my arm and shoulder, and I have to run a few steps with Sasha before I can tug back and bite out a loud command.

Sasha is halfway up the tree by then, snapping only a few inches from the end of the squirrel’s fluffy tail. At my second command, the dog finally retreats, coming back to me reluctantly and giving me an extended awoo that clearly communicates that she’s sorry she didn’t walk as perfectly as normal, but she can’t be blamed for it because the squirrel so wickedly dashed out right in front of her and what could any dog be expected to do in such vexing circumstances.

By the end of Sasha’s indignant yowl, Dan is doubled over in helpless laughter. I’m having trouble not giggling myself, but I keep a straight face so I can convey appropriate authority to the dog.

Subdued, Sasha falls back into her good-dog stance. I switch the lead to my left arm so I can roll my right shoulder.

“Did she hurt you?” Dan asks, his hilarity subsiding as he notices my gesture.

“Not really. Just yanked my shoulder. It’s fine.”

“You want me to hold her for a while?”

“No, it’s fine. She’s used to me. She didn’t do any damage. She’s just usually so good that I wasn’t expecting it. It was my mistake.”

“Okay.” He glances over at me a few more times but thankfully doesn’t push it. We make it back the rest of the way without further incident, and Dan walks with me as I bring Sasha back home, give her a treat and some water, get her settled, and say good night.

He’s still walking with me as I leave the house.

When I glance over at him questioningly, he asks, “What do you need to do now?”

“Nothing. Just sign out of work over text.”

He waits as I pull my phone out to do just that.

I’m expecting him to return to his car in the library parking lot, but he doesn’t.

“I’m parked behind Lock-N-Leash,” I finally say.

“Okay. I’ll walk with you.”

I want to groan, but of course I don’t. That would be incredibly rude. And it’s not his fault that I’m so uncomfortable about my responses to him.

The last thing I should do is blame him for how I’m feeling right now.

Like I might actually jump out of my skin.

As we’re walking past the coffee shop, I notice people inside and glance at my phone to check the time since it feels too late for them to be open.

“They don’t close until nine,” Dan says. “We’ve got twenty minutes. I’ll buy you one of those iced green teas.”

I might have refused the suggestion, given my mood, but twenty minutes is such a short period of time and I am thirsty. Plus I don’t want to act too standoffish since Dan hasn’t been anything but nice to me. “Okay. Thanks. That sounds good.”

He appears pleased but faintly surprised by my agreement, and he holds the door open for me to go in.

There are only a few customers remaining. A middle-aged couple in one corner and Paige working on her computer on the other side. Chase is mopping the floor, but he stops when he sees us and moves around the counter to take our order with a lazy grin.

Dan gets a green tea too, which surprises me because I’ve never seen him drink it before. Then we sit at the table with Paige and chat for fifteen minutes as the older couple leaves and Chase finishes cleaning up before closing for the night.

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