A rumble of laughter escapes from deep in my chest, and I toss an arm around her shoulders. “I wouldn’t dream of taking you out. How would I stare at your purple pants?”
“You mean my butt?”
“Careful, trouble.”
There’s that flush, the same color as her name, blotching those cheekbones.
“I get what you mean, though,” I tell her. “I get lost in my thoughts, and they run away with things that could go wrong, how I might not be seeing something clearly, or how history might repeat itself. It’s confusing and…”
“Daunting.”
“Yeah, it is. Makes me pause about a lot of things.
“Makes me miss out on a lot of chances,” she adds quietly.
“Hey.” Nudging her side, I smile, because I want to see hers again. “Keep me around, and you won’t miss out on anything. I’ll show up at the shelter so you don’t have a choice.”
She cracks a wide, hopeful grin, extra parts goofy. “One might think you’re stalking me.”
“That’s what I said! My friend said girls like that stuff, though.”
Her eyes come to mine, curious and a little hesitant, another blush staining her cheeks. “You talked to your friend about me?”
There’s a part of me, such a large part, that’s uncertain. Worried I’m seeing something, feeling something that isn’t really here. That I’ve gotten desperate enough to convince myself she’s interested. I mean, really interested. And that fear steals my words.
Instead, I smile softly and take her hand, helping her over a cluster of rocks and to the bridge. She drops to her butt on the edge of the wood, feet dangling over the creek, and I sink down beside her. The dogs rush to her side when she pulls her backpack onto her lap, and I watch as Bear behaves like a perfect angel as she has him sit tall and still, showing him his cookie before she offers it to him. He takes it delicately and licks her cheek when he’s done. Rosie giggles and kisses his nose before doing the same with Piglet, and after lapping some water from a collapsible bowl, the two dogs curl up together behind us.
“Piglet seems to like Bear,” I observe.
“Because she’s so anxious with people, she doesn’t get much in the way of pup socialization at Wildheart. She’s selective about who she gives her trust to, and it makes me sad to think of her spending so much time in her own head. I’m so happy that she’s made a friend.”
“Then we should walk together every Saturday, huh?”
Rosie smiles down at her bag. “If you’d like to.”
“I would. Would you?”
This time, her blush makes its way up to the tips of her ears. “Yeah. I think I would.”
“Cool. It’s a date.”
Rosie’s eyes flick to mine, a sea of curiosity and nerves that swirl as she examines me beneath her lashes. Her bangs curtain her face, brushing her temples and not letting her hide those emotions she wears so freely. She opens her mouth but seems to second-guess, instead choosing to take her lower lip between her teeth and focus her attention on her backpack, a slight tremor to her hands.
She hands me two sandwiches and a muffin. “Here. For you.”
“You made lunch for me?”
“I thought, you know, just in case we ran into you again, and you wanted to eat with us. It’s a turkey bacon club with Swiss on sourdough. It’s no big deal. If you don’t want it—”
“It is a big deal.” I lay my hand over her fumbling one, stopping the nervous way she’s tearing at the edge of her sandwich. “You thought of me, and that’s a big deal to me.” I stroke her wrist with my thumb, and her eyes track the movement before lifting to mine. “Thank you, Rosie.”
And then, to ease the thick tension in the air, I sigh happily. “I haven’t eaten since second breakfast.”
“Second breakfast?”
“I’d waste away if I only had the first.”
There’s that snicker-snort, even if she hides it behind her muffin. When she’s done, she hands me a wipe to clean my hands, offers the dogs another cookie, and refills their water bowl one last time before we pack everything away.
I take her hand, helping her back over the rocks, and tilt my head toward the sparkling creek. “Walk through the water with me?”
She hesitates like she might say no, but Bear races ahead, splashing into the water, and Piglet tugs on her leash, yanking Rosie forward as she chases after Bear.
“Here,” I say with a chuckle, taking Piglet’s leash. I kick off my shoes and socks and follow the dogs into the water. “Go sit. Dip your toes while we play.”
She nods, taking a seat on the edge of the bank, watching us as she dips her feet. The dogs plow around in front of me, wrestling and rolling, until the three of us are soaked to the bone. They stop for a rest, lying in the sunshine, and the quiet slosh of water draws my attention over my shoulder.
Rosie slowly makes her way toward us, one hand at her jaw, the other clutching the neck of her shirt. She looks up at me, an unsteady smile spreading in slow motion, and I grin, holding my hand out to her.
Her warm palm slides against mine, and I grasp it tightly, pulling her into me. I don’t want to let go, but I do, and together we wade through the shallow water.
After a few peaceful minutes, Rosie’s next step has the water rising suddenly to her knees, pulling a sharp gasp from her. “Oh . I didn’t know it got so deep.”
She frantically steps backward, clawing at the back of my shirt before she slips on a rock and nearly tumbles straight to her ass. I catch her around the waist, her soft curves melting beneath my palm as she fists my shirt. The tips of my fingers dig into her hips as she peers up at me, pink lips parting, each puff of breath kissing my lips as I hold her to me, staring down at her heart-shaped face.
“Careful, trouble.”
Her fingers tighten around my shirt and her gaze falls to my mouth. Then she blinks, shakes her head, and pushes us both up. Piglet rushes to her side, sniffing Rosie’s legs, her hands, before finally licking her wherever she can get her tongue.
Rosie pats her head. “I’m fine, Pig, but thank you anyway for the kisses.” Her eyes come to mine for only a moment before darting away. “Sorry. Freaked out a bit there.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re pretty short; we should stay where it’s shallow.”
She guffaws. “I am not short.”
“That’s what all short people say.”
“I—” Rosie huffs, pinning her arms across her chest. “I’m not short.”
I grin, tapping the corner of her pout. “What are you, five-four?”
She points a cute-as-fuck, stubborn nose to the sky. “Five-five, thank you very much. But I suppose that looks teensy tiny compared to your monstrous height.”
I stifle a laugh. “Sorry I missed that last inch.”
“An inch is very important.”
“Oh, I completely agree. One inch might mean the difference between a disappointing night and one spent screaming for all the right reasons.” The words are out of my mouth before I can overthink them, and I wait for them to settle. Rosie’s mouth pops open, the heat in her cheeks returning like molten lava, and I wink.