“Live your damn life, Ali.”
“Alison.”
“Whoever you want to be,” Emma said with a wave of her hand. “Just live it like it was meant to be lived. Forgive yourself and move on.”
“Forgive myself for what exactly, Emmie?”
Emma glared at her. “Whatever’s eating at you.”
Whelp, there happened to be a long list. Letting Ryan down. Pushing people away. Not letting herself fall because she feared getting hurt . . .
“While you’re figuring all that out, I’ll just—”
Alison looked over when Emma didn’t finish that sentence and found her staring out the window at that same man they’d seen before. The man who’d hit Emma with his car. He was walking down the street, away from them. “Emma?”
Her partner didn’t budge. Didn’t blink.
“I thought you wanted to talk to him. Now’s your chance.”
Still nothing. Emma had become a statue.
Alison sighed and put her hand on Emma’s arm. She was still as a statue. And chilled. “Hey, what was it you just told me? Live my life?” She leaned in closer. “So, live your life.”
Emma drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Yes.”
But she still didn’t move.
“Do you want a push?”
Ignoring this, Emma fully galvanized and moved closer to the window. “He looks okay, right?”
“I mean . . . how do you tell?”
Emma swiveled her head, eyes wide. “Because I need him to be okay!”
“Right.” Alison nodded at the crazy lady. “He looks great.”
Emma shook her head and headed for the door. She stopped, hand on the handle. “Maybe I should just leave him alone?”
Dear God, they were both in trouble if Emma wanted advice from Alison. “Live your life,” she said, repeating Emma’s words, and gave her the shoo hands. “It seems like you can’t do that until you talk to him, so go already.”
Emma stepped outside.
Alison hurried to the window and watched Emma watch Jack Swanson turn the corner and vanish from view.
Emma came back inside, looking a little sick. Without making eye contact, she moved behind the counter and fiddled with the display next to the computer.
“What are you doing?”
“Working,” Emma said. “You?”
“Watching my partner pretend she has her shit together.”
“Oh, and you think you have your shit together?”
“I know I don’t. But I might actually have it slightly more together than you.” A terrifying thought. “Why didn’t you chase him down?”
Emma didn’t answer, just came around the counter as a woman entered the building, holding a carrier with two little Chihuahuas, both barking loudly. Luna and Rex were checked in and taken to the “salty” yard, where Dale sat. He said he related to the salts.
He was here because Simon had needed to take an emergency client for Kelly, who was out of town, and had he called Alison for help? No. He had not. He’d called Alison’s business partner.
And, given the well-satisfied glow Emma was wearing, they weren’t spending their nights staring at the TV like Alison was. She was happy for them. Sort of. No, dammit. She was happy for them. That was one of the rules she’d learned in this whole being in a relationship with someone. You had to be happy for them when good things occurred in their lives. Even if you tended to self-destruct your own happiness at every turn.
“We used to have a Chihuahua,” Dale said. “She got out one day. Just ran across the street into the woods and was never seen again. Assumed she ran into a coyote.”
Alison gaped at him. “You told us she’d gone to live on a farm upstate.”
Dale grimaced. “Um. Yes?”
Alison shook her head. “Oh my God.”
Emma gave her a sympathetic gaze.
“No,” Alison said, pointing at her. “I don’t want sympathy from the person sleeping with my cousin while pretending nothing’s going on.”
“I’m not . . .” Emma glanced at Dale, flushed, and lowered her voice. “Sleeping with your cousin.”
“That’s true,” Dale said. “Simon’s home by midnight just about every night. Well, there’s been a few times when he’s snuck in at dawn, but he’s always home by breakfast.”
Emma leaned forward and thunked her head on the counter a few times.
Alison couldn’t say a word without being a hypocrite. Yes, Emma was pretending that she wasn’t in a relationship with Simon for whatever reason, but Alison was doing the same to Emma, practicing to be a better woman in order to get Ryan back.
And as if she’d conjured him up, the bell above the door jingled and there he was.
“Finally,” Emma whispered in triumph. “Your turn in the hot seat. Let’s see how you like it.”
Alison very carefully didn’t look at her. She just kept her eyes on Ryan—which didn’t help her suddenly racing pulse.
He looked . . . hot, and a little dirty, like he’d been working outside all day. He wore work clothes and held Killer against his chest; he should’ve looked ridiculous carrying a little froufrou dog with her pink bedazzled collar, but somehow he looked even more masculine.
It drove her crazy.
He drove her crazy.
“What are you doing here?” she managed.
Ryan pushed his dark sunglasses to the top of his head and held up a flyer.
20% OFF YOUR FIRST WEEK AT PAW PALS!
Alison stared at it and then whipped around to Emma.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Coupons were your idea,” her so-called partner said.
Alison took Killer, sucking in a breath because her fingers brushed against Ryan, and why oh why did he always smell so good? She wanted to press her nose to his throat and breathe him in. Instead, she kissed Killer’s adorable little face all over. Her baby allowed it for a minute, then squirmed to get down.
“Think I can leave Killer with you for a few hours?” Ryan asked. “I’ve got an appointment at a client’s office, and the last time I brought her with me, she left a . . . deposit in the client’s wife’s Louboutins. A very stinky deposit that cost me a thousand bucks.”
Killer was running around looking for Hog. She found him sleeping in the sun and immediately went nose to nose with him.
Hog woke from a dead sleep with a surprised howl and ran to hide behind Emma.
Ryan crouched low and studied Hog peeking out from Emma’s legs. “Don’t let her bully you, man.” He held out a hand.
Hog studied it, and then he slowly came out from behind Emma.
Ryan waited patiently, and finally Hog bumped his head against Ryan’s hand. Permission to touch. Ryan gave him a full-body rub—Hog’s favorite. “You’re way too sweet to be stuck with my little woman.”
“Your four-legged woman too,” Emma said.
Ryan laughed. “So you know them both well then.”
“Oh yeah.”
Then the two clowns laughed softly as if in commiseration with each other. “Hey!” Alison said. “Standing right here.” She looked at Emma. “Did you give out flyers to the whole damn town?”