Page 32 of Accidentally Sliding Into A Second Chance

Searching his face, I see the hesitation, the questions he’s not asking—the doubt.

“Can you trust me to do that?”

Chapter Thirteen

David

CanItrusther?

Gazing into her clear, sky-blue eyes, imploring me to say yes, her question bounces around my head. My heart’s pounding like a herd of horses, and my pulse is racing.

But more than that is a feeling of certainty settling in my gut.

The truth is, I’ve trusted her from the moment I met her in third grade. Maybe it’s crazy to do that now, after not having contact for decades, but that belief is still present. Trusting my instincts is a sentiment I’ve followed my entire life, whenever I needed to make a decision, and today won’t be any different. Every ounce of my body is humming with one answer.

“Yes,” I say without hesitation.

She blows out a breath, and I watch her shoulders fall from her ears. The smile she beams sends tiny shivers down my spine as her eyes light up with excitement.

The corner of my lip pulls up as she tells me about all the ideas floating in her head. She fills me in on her conversation with Finn, which, to my relief,did notinclude any talk ofmatchmaking. And lastly, she shares how she thinks Emmy can add to it all.

“Especially at Bark In The Park.” There’s a bounce in her step as she starts walking again, and my grin gets bigger, her enthusiasm contagious. “Emmy is a show stealer, just like your daughter. Not to mention, we’ll be highlighting Mile High Mutts Rescue. By letting Emmy take the majority of the spotlight, Scarlett will be kept mainly off camera.”

“If Scarlett lets that happen.” My lip curls up. “You don’t know my daughter that well yet. Think about Emmy and then multiply by ten.”

A laugh floats out of her, making my stomach clench. “Oh boy, you do have your hands full!”

She has a glow about her as she talks, and I can’t drag my eyes away from her. I’m enchanted.

Her plan sounds perfect. The majority of the focus will be sports-related, while a small portion will highlight my family life. It will never be anything too personal, but just enough for people to get a small glimpse inside.

“I love it.” A smile rests across my face, and I toss my empty cup in the trash. “Are you done?” I nod toward her cup and reach a hand out.

Our fingers brush when she pushes the cup toward me, and a zing shoots through me. Surprised, the cup falls to the ground.

“Sorry,” Cat says, her voice slightly breathless.

“No worries,” I say, bending down to pick it up. A sharp pain and a dull thud echoes through my head as I hear a soft ‘ouch’ uttered from Cat. Standing up, my hand to my head, I chuckle. “Are you okay?”

She’s rubbing her head up and down, and her face is scrunched up in the most adorable expression. “You have a hard head.”

Without thinking, I reach my hand out and put it over hers, attempting to rub the sting out. “I’m so sorry.”

Her hand stops moving, and wide, stormy blue eyes stare up at me. My heart hammers against my chest, and I pull my hand away like I’ve been burned.

“Duncan doesn’t call me hard-headed for nothing,” I joke, laughing nervously. I reach for the cup I dropped and toss it in the trash.

When I turn back around, I find her watching me. Her head is slightly tilted, her eyes narrowed, and her lips are curved at the corners.

It’s an expression I remember well. My stomach knots. I wasn’t going to ask why she was crying the other day. It’s none of my business, but the regret of never asking why she had to move away tugs at me. “Can I ask you a question?”

Her eyes widen slightly before she shoves her hands in her pockets and offers a slight shrug. “Sure. I guess it’s fair after all the digging I just did into your past. Ask away.”

“Why were you crying yesterday?” I spit out before I lose my nerve. I hear her take a deep breath before watching her slowly blow it out, running a hand through her hair.

Cat’s quiet for what feels like forever; I begin to wonder if she’ll answer. My gut flips and I start to regret asking. Silence stretches like it did all those years ago when she left without an explanation. The sight of her walking up the stairs burned in my memory.

How many times did I replay that day?

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