Page 30 of Golden Hour

Shiloh laughs, more music to my ears. “He just needs training and exercise. Lots and lots of training. We’ll find him a good home. He’s got a good personality.”

She opens the backseat and the dog jumps in and whines, tongue dangling and flicking with his pants.

Shiloh and I get in the car, and the dog instantly sticks its tongue in my ear.

“At least buy me dinner first,” I say to the dog, and Shiloh giggles. It’s quickly becoming my favorite sound. “You know, my parents had a shepherd.”

“That’s why I decided to work at Woody Finch. The German shepherd in the logo. The Dog Hall of Fame. I saw the dog, in your family photo.”

“Woody. He was a great dog.” Swallowing, I continue. “The dog…well, I was watching the dog the first week I moved back from Seattle. My parents went on this epic vacation to Europe for their anniversary, and the dog got sick. It went downhill quickly. I couldn’t be in the room when they did it. My siblings went in so the dog wasn’t alone, but I couldn’t be there. I….”

“It’s hard.” She covers my hand with hers with a pat. We look at our hands and look away. Her hand leaves mine and goes back to the steering wheel. “At least your siblings could go in with him.”

The look on Woody’s face only comes to me when I’m soaked through with bourbon. Guilt has weaved its way through this year, but Shiloh’s comfort soothes it. There’s no judgment emanating from her, and it allows me to melt into my seat.

If my siblings hadn’t come, I would’ve gone with Woody. No one should be alone when they’re actively dying, especially a dog. My siblings knew I had already watched someone I loved drift off to sleep never to wake again. How it broke me and fucked me up.

I’m still fucked up. I could barely look at my siblings when they emerged, Emily’s face streaked with tears and Cameron sniffling and turning his head. Reid made sure I was okay as we walked to my car and he drove me home. Even though a tear did not leave my eyes, I’ve thought about that day constantly since.

When faced with situations that may trigger me, I run. It’s how I operate, how I function. I’ve accepted being a prisoner.

“Your dad must miss Woody so much. He and I race to the dogs every time we hear one is at the brewery. It’s become a running joke.”

My version of a laugh comes out as a huff. “Running, racing. Puns.”

“Oh yeah. I’m funny.AndI usually beat your dad.”

“At least you didn’t French a doodle the other day. It’s because my dad eats lots of bacon.”

“Who says I haven’t kissed a dog on the mouth?” She flashes me those blue eyes, and I freeze. Is she flirting with me? "I’m a great kisser.”

My cheeks grow red. Why do I wish I was a dog? Again?

Koda the German shepherd has settled in the backseat, looking cute as hell, chewing on the nylon bone Shiloh brought.

“Now that the dog has calmed down, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for how I’ve acted. If you can’t tell, I have a lot of anger, and I took it out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Shiloh doesn’t hesitate. “I accept your apology. I don’t know what it is, but I can tell you have had a hard time.”

“Oh?” I ask.

“Jackson Finch, I know you’re all stuffing, no steel.”

“Conspiracies,” I say. “I do not accept that.”

“The way you are with Koda? I’m onto you. Squishy, soft center.”

I lean in, close enough to smell the vanilla on her skin. It jolts me, but I still move closer. Why am I whispering? “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.” Her smile drops, and she rubs her lips together. I must be staring because she blurts, “I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”

My blood runs cold. I whip my head away, erect in my seat. “I wasn’t flirting.”

Saying that out loud feels like a lie. Shiloh accepts it, though. “Good.”

I look back and the dog has settled, curling up like a black-and-tan croissant. “I think Koda finally calmed down.”

Shiloh stops at a stop sign and looks back. Her bottom lip juts out. “I think so too. This part just guts me. We’ll find you a good home, Koda, I promise.”

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