Page 11 of Dashing for Love

Willa hums and we get situated. Reid joins us, taking the other side of Willa, and I glance at the space beside me.

“Where’s Matty?”

Willa shrugs and Reid says, “He’ll be here. Guy wouldn’t miss it.”

A commotion starts up at the front, followed by squeals and a tiny yip. Seconds later, Matty appears, a grin on his face.

My heart does the same squeeze thing it always does when I see him. I’ve resigned myself to it. It’s normal to have a crush on your sister’s best friend, right? It might not be normal that I’ve had it for over twenty years, but whatever. The heart wants what it wants, I guess. Unfortunately, my heart refuses to listen tome when I tell it over and over that Matty Brodigan is off-limits. Always has. Always will.

It doesn’t stop me from appreciating the man. Like every time he’s at yoga, today he’s wearing running shorts over spandex shorts and a fitted workout shirt. He’s in shape but not bulky, and he’s tall but not overly so, probably an even six feet if I had to guess. I’m a solid five-five, and I’ve stood next to him enough to know that if I were ever lucky enough to kiss the guy, we’d fit together perfectly. I might have to go on my tiptoes, and he might have to bend a bit, but hey, what’s a little compromise, right?

Not that I’ll ever get to kiss him. Some other woman will do that. She’ll run her hands through his wavy mess of brown hair, and she’ll probably think he needs to trim it. (He doesn’t.) And she’ll get to stare into his gorgeous brown eyes, the ones that look like whiskey on ice in the daylight and dark caramel at night. She might tease him about almost always wearing cowboy boots and jeans, instead of appreciating the way his ass and thighs fill the denim out.

I hate her. I don’t know who she is, but I hate her all the same.

A tiny tapping of nails on the hardwood floor has me snapping out of my hatred for a future woman, and I focus on the sound. Running around like an adorable vision of utter and complete cuteness, is a tiny cream-colored chihuahua. Strutting about like he owns the place.

Matty laughs as he comes to unroll his mat next to mine.

“Is that yours?” I ask, unable to contain the glee in my voice.

“Yep,” he answers. “His name is Killer.”

I whack him on the arm. “Stop it. You can’t be that cute.”

He rubs his arm and his eyes freakingtwinkle. “You think I’m cute, Goldie?”

I roll my eyes and turn away, hoping he doesn’t see the blush that blooms at his teasing.

Yoga isn’t nearly as calm as it normally is, with Killer getting the zoomies and chasing Midnight through the mats. There are more than a few yelps and hisses, but lots of laughing at the duo’s shenanigans all the same. As we leave, Matty promises the owner he’ll leave Killer at home next time. He produces a leash for the walk on the pier, and I take a deep breath to center myself.

Focus on James. Not your sister’s best friend.The guy Icanhave versus the guy I can’t.

Willa threads her arms through Matty’s and leans her head on his, saying something too quiet for me to catch. They laugh, then Reid gathers her to his side, likely smushing Midnight as she’s riding in the carrier strapped to Reid.

I shake my head. These two men are something else: a big cop wearing a cat and a tall, hot vet walking a tiny dog.

Matty slows and looks back for me, and I throw on a smile. “Coming!”

It’s a beautiful early spring day, just warm enough in the sun to not need long sleeves, and I tip my head up to soak in the rays. Seagulls call to each other as waves lap against the pylons. It’s quiet when it’s not tourist season, and aside from the guy fishing off the end of the pier, we’re the only ones here.

This is one of my favorite times of the week. We walk, catch up on each other’s lives, and make up stories about the people who own the yachts docked down one side. I revel in it, and in the closeness we all have. Reid’s appearance in Lucky changed so many things for all of us, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Thanks to him, Willa came out of her shell and managed to talk Mom and Dad into setting plans for retirement. They refuse to completely stop working, but the diner is slowly transitioning to Willa, and she’s thriving. Seeing her take control of her life waswhat inspired me to ask JJ for a job at the paper, even though the paper was little more than a gossip rag at the time.

“How’s it feel being thirty, old man?” Willa asks Matty.

Beside her, Reid growls playfully. “Watch it. I’m still the oldest one here.”

Willa grins at Reid and turns her attention back to Matty.

“Same as it felt being twenty-nine,” Matty answers. “How’s it feel being mean to your best friend?”

“I just wanna know if you need a dog sitter,” I say, reaching down to pick Killer up. “Because if you do, I’m in.”

Matty’s whiskey eyes meet mine. “He’s kind of irresistible, isn’t he?”

You have no idea.

After two circuits of the pier, Willa and Reid take off. Killer strains at the leash, clearly wanting to go around again, and I laugh as Matty contemplates him. “I’ll keep you company if you want.”

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