Page 14 of Once Upon a Boyband
Adam walks to the opposite end of the barn and opens a second sliding door identical to the one we came through, then he walks back through the center aisle to where I’m standing next to the food cart. In every kennel, the dogs are waiting by their doors, tails wagging, like they know what’s coming next and they are ready for it.
Adam touches a control panel mounted on the wall next to the supply room. It lights up, and he presses a series of buttons, then, with one final tap, opens all the kennel doors at once. Taylor and Aretha and her puppies stay safely inside their enclosures, but everyone else darts into the aisle and heads toward the open door on the opposite side of the barn.
I follow Adam to the end of the aisle where we step out into the late afternoon sunshine.
“Three acres, fully fenced,” he says. “They get this three times a day for at least a half-hour, depending on what my schedule allows. They also get leash walks a few times a week—I have volunteers who come out for that—and they get twice weekly visits to the house so we can work on inside behavior and potty training.”
I watch as the two dozen dogs in Adam’s care romp around the field, some chasing each other, some walking lazily, some rolling around in the grass.
These dogs are the luckiest dogs in the world.
Adam looks over and catches my eye, a smile brightening his face. He loves this. It’s written all over his expression.
I look away, forcing my gaze to the tree-coveredmountains climbing into the sky. Based on our time together, if I keep staring directly at his very handsome face, the odds of me saying something stupid are enormously high.
The thing is, Adam has built a life for himself that mirrors almost exactly what I would want for myself. Despite my grumbling about my nonexistent dating life in Lawson Cove, I really love living here. I love the mountains, I love being close to my dad, I love running into cousins and aunts and uncles who have known me since I was a kid. And I would love to have property like this—to have all this land. I’ve always done better when there’s room to breathe.
Of course, in all my imaginings, I’m livingwithsomeone. Raising a family. Building a life. And Lawson Cove really is tough in that regard. It’s hard to meet new people when you already know everyone in town.
But then, I already knew Adam, and I’d never even considered the possibility something could happen between us until today. Not that I’m counting any chickens before they hatch. Maybe this is nothing. Maybe I’m just a ride to get a spare key, and he’s only showing me his rescue because I’m his vet and he’s proud of his work.
Hedoeskeep making and holding eye contact though. And he sniffed my hair—which, I may not have a ton of dating experience, but he wouldn’t do that with justanybody,would he?
I can’t fight the tiny flower of hope that blooms in my chest. Maybe finding the right guy is less about location and more about timing.
A breeze lifts the hair at the nape of my neck, and I close my eyes as it brushes over my face. It’s still a warm breeze, but there’s a hint of cool at the end that reminds me of fall. Itwon’t be long now—just another few weeks or so. I bet this place is gorgeous when the leaves change color.
“I could live out here,” I say, eyes still closed, more to myself than to Adam.
But he answers me anyway. “It’s not too far away from Target?”
I let out a little laugh and open my eyes. “I may grumble sometimes, but I wouldn’t give up living in Lawson Cove for Target.”
He nods, like this answer doesn’t really surprise him, then he drops his gaze, looking up at me through his lashes, his expression suddenly coy. “And a more active dating scene? Would you give up Lawson Cove for that?”
A weird sense of déjà vu washes over me, and I give my head a little shake. There is an intensity to Adam’s gaze that feels familiar, but I can’t quite figure out why. Whatever it is, it makes my heart pound in my throat and emboldens me to answer his very pointed question.
“I don’t really need a whole scene,” I say. “One man would do just fine for me.”
He studies me for a long moment, and I get the sense that he’s filing this information away. Like he isn’t just hearing my words, he’s thinking about what they mean, what they say about me.
I look away first, because if I don’t, I will either explode or possibly ask Adam to marry me, both things that would unequivocally ruin the rest of my day, and train my gaze on the hazy blue-green of the mountains blending into the sky. “So, how much of this belongs to the rescue?”
Thankfully, Adam runs with the subject change. “Most everything you can see from here,” he says. “The propertyline extends to the top of the ridge. Over there, at the edge of the field, there’s a trail that skirts the tree line and comes out on the other side of the house. We use that for leash walks.”
He talks for a few more minutes about his volunteer staff and his adoption rates and how hard he works to focus on temperament and family dynamics before matching his dogs with new owners.
He’s clearly passionate, his face animated as he tells me about a family who brought their kids out every Saturday for a month until they’d spent time with every single dog, then details an email he recently received from a woman who became engaged to a man she met at the dog park—all thanks to the goldendoodle she adopted last summer.
The longer that Adam talks, the more certain I am that he reminds me of someone. I just can’t figure out who.
Despite that one tiny distraction, when he finally finishes, I’m fully convinced he is entirely perfect, and I would very much like forhimto be thejust one manI need.
“Adam, this whole thing is unbelievable,” I say. “All of it. The land, the way you take care of the dogs. It’s amazing.”
Adam’s cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink, just visible at the top of his beard. “Thanks,” he says. “Your dad helped a lot. He must have answered a million questions.”
“That sounds like Dad. Has he been out here?”
