Page 16 of Hidden Memories

I never told anyone about Kat. The multitude of ways in which shame and humiliation showed up after all that went down had me in constant agony over my miscalculations. I’m still not proud of what I did so I keep that thing between us my heavy, lonesome secret. She was a siren. A black widow who lured me into her web.

The woman was fucking engaged, for Christ’s sake.

I laugh in an attempt to find myself again, but nothing about this is funny. “Iwishyou could help.”

“Try me,” she presses, probably sensing this is juicy.

She has a damn good sniffer, just like my brother, Enzo.

If I don’t give her something, she might figure it out on her own because Ava doesn’t drink or smoke. Curiosity is the sweet girl’s vice.

“I got an email.” I stretch my neck to one side, then theother, trying to get a good crack and release some of this tension. “From an old acquaintance.”

“And…” she urges me to carry on.

“She needs a job.”

Instantly, Ava’s ears perk up at the wordshe.Everyone in my family wants to see me settled down. Hell, Ava has only been around for a few months, and she’s been on the dating sites for me. For some reason, despite my complete inability to commit, they all have it in their heads I’d be happier with someone. I’m fine on my own. Have been for years.

Now that they know I’ve applied to be a foster, they’ve taken that as an additional cue I should be a family man and have doubled down on their interest in my love life. So, if there’s ashein the picture, everyone comes snooping.

I power down my laptop. I need to get out of here and escape the interrogation.

Ava leans her elbows on the table, perching her chin on a fist. “Will you be giving said acquaintance a job?”

“I always try to help people out where I can.” I used to think this was one of my redeeming qualities, but I’m not so sure anymore. Clearly, in this case, it’s a weakness.

I remind myself I’m helping out for the kid. Not Kat. “She’s a single mom,” I add to reassure both Ava and myself this is about benevolence and nothing else.

I close my laptop, stand, and throw my Carhartt jacket on. “Gotta run.”

Ava’s gaze tracks me. Despite my best efforts, she didn’t think anything about the way I was acting was normal if she’s watching me like this.

It’snotnormal. Nothing about what happened between me and Kat was normal.

I brush past Enzo in the doorway and give him a nod because it’s all I can muster.

Blowing down the stairs, I head somewhere I can think. I need to be alone. I’m going to help Kat, now, I need a solution.

My boots click on the pavement path leading to the area of the ranch where the family homes are. I envisioned this place many, many years ago. The first person I ever admitted this dream of a family ranch to was Kat. With every stride, I contemplate what she’d think of me actually making something of myself. What she’d say knowing I made my dreams a reality.

And what would her father think? The way he looked at me that day, the last day I ever dealt with the Castellanos family… I could just tell he thought I was a nobody.

Pounding up my porch stairs two by two, I throw open my front door, and Mila greets me immediately.

She’s a Belgian Malinois, albeit one with giantism or something because she is enormous. I got her not long after my last pup passed. When Duke died, I was in a very reckless phase of my life, all seemed lost after Kat, and I worried I’d never find the light in me again.

At a visit back home in Starlight Canyon, a dog breeder my dad knew brought over the hugest puppy you’ve ever seen. Mila was bred to herd cattle, but things just weren’t clicking. The breeder asked if my dad knew anyone who would adopt her. Maybe due to her size, maybe that she lacked focus and was clumsy, she just wasn’t fit for purpose.

But she was fit formypurpose. I needed to find my smile again; she helped me do just that. Her given name,Milagros, means miracle because it represents what we were to each other. She found me, and I found her, atexactly the right time. It was either Milagros or Serendipity and the latter was too uppity for my taste.

I scratch behind her ear. “Hey, girl.”

She follows me to the fridge. I snatch out a beer and twist off the lid. The first swig cools my dry mouth, but I know it will take a hell of a lot more of these to simmer down completely.

I snatch Mila’s ball and my latest whittling project off my kitchen counter and head out onto my back porch, immediately throwing the ball out into the garden so Mila can run around. I popped her in here when Owen arrived this afternoon, so she’s been cooped up for about four hours. I don’t like leaving her in here, but if I don’t give her a lot of attention in a day, sometimes she gets up to no good and finds a nice flowerbed to dig up. Or worse, takes to the muck heaps.

I chuck the ball into the distance, and she dashes out enthusiastically. She could probably use a friend, but with the foster application out there, I’m taking it one kid at a time.

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