Page 42 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
“The spaniel is Willa. The basset’s Gator.”
“Ha! A dog named Gator. I love it.” She brings her nose close to the kennel. “I just feel bad that they have to be stuck in cages.”
“I used to think the same thing, but crate-trained dogs usually feel safe inside their kennels. Especially familiar ones. Gator and Willa stay with us a few times a year, so they’re fine in here.”
“Oh, no.” Nat’s face crumples. “Do they get sick that often?”
“No, we board them when their owners are out of town. For work or vacation or whatever. They want Willa and Gator to be in comfortable surroundings with people they recognize and trust.” Even as I say this, I realize I sound a whole lot like one of these dogs—more comfortable in familiar surroundings with people I recognize and trust. Who knew I’d have more in common with a cocker spaniel than an actual human?
“So what do we need to do next?”
“I fed Gator and Willa earlier while you were rescheduling appointments, so now is probably a good time for me to walk them.”
“I’ll go too, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” I shift my jaw. “I keep a spare sweatshirt in my locker. It’s only going to get cooler as the sun goes down. I don’t think you’ll be warm enough… in that.” She’s still in her bathing suit with only a sheer cover-up. Her dress and cardigan might be in her beach bag, but they won’t provide much more coverage than what she’s already got on.
“You know me well.” She laughs. “I guess if you’re going to be stuck with someone overnight, it pays to have history with them.”
History. Right.
I flash back to six months ago, remembering how Natalie felt in my arms. The curve of her mouth. Her breath warm in my ear. Anything I say now will come out garbled, so I duck my head and move to my locker to grab a couple sweatshirts. Then I collect Gator and Willa’s leads from their hooks. By the time I get back to Natalie, she’s having a full-on conversation with the dogs.
I pause for a moment, watching her. Mesmerized.
“Well, look at you, Gator. Aren’t you the jowliest thing? You ready for some fresh air, buddy?” He’s got his snout pressed to the mesh, snuffling. Can’t say I blame him. Nat smells incredible. Next, she steps over to Willa. “Hey, pretty lady. I’ll bet you could use some pizza. I ordered plenty. And don’t worry. I won’t tell Brady, if you don’t.”
“No, that’s not a good idea,” I say.
“Gah!” She whirls around, and her face flushes pink. “You heard that?”
I arrange my face into a mask of sternness. “I did.”
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I wouldn’t actually feed the dog pizza.”
“That’s not the problem.” My voice is gruff. “The real problem is… Willa’s more of a Hawaiian pizza girl.”
Natalie takes a beat, then she snorts. “Wait. You’re messing with me?” She swats at my arm. “You’re so mean! I really thought I’d done something wrong.”
“Nope. You’re good,” I tell her.
Too good. Way too good.
Together we get the dogs hooked onto their leads, then we head out the back door. The air is cool, and the sky is growing dark. As we wander side by side, we’re both quiet, and our pace is slow. I’ve got Gator. She’s walking Willa. When we left, Lulu was sleeping soundly. I fill my lungs with the brisk, clean air. It feels good not to be rushing. So we let the dogs stop as often as they need to sniff a bush or lift their legs. Two blocks out, Natalie breaks the silence.
“After seeing you with LuLu, I’m kind of surprised you don’t have a dog.”
“I would, but there’s a no-pets stipulation in my lease agreement.” I let out more slack in Gator’s leash. “When I get my own place someday, I’ll probably have a dog or two. Definitely a cat.”
“A cat? Really?”
“Yeah. I love my parents’ cat.”
“Sprinkles?”
“You sound surprised.”
She shrugs. “I guess I just didn’t peg you for a cat guy.”
