Adley nodded. “I think he sampled enough for a medium two-scoop cone.” Then she shrugged. “Ah, well. Nature of the business, right?”
By the time she closed up that night and got everything cleaned and put away, she was very nearly dead on her feet. So tired that not even the text from Sabrina asking if she wanted to meet for drinks was enough to entice her, and that said something.
Really want to, but soooooo tired, she texted back. Rain check?
The response came immediately. I’ll miss you but no worries. Next time. Sleep tight. And a kissing emoji.
Her tired eyes focused on those first three words. I’ll miss you. Would she? Would she actually miss Adley? It’s not like they saw each other every day. And it’s not like they were in a relationship, right? Well. Not an actual one. It was a relationship of convenience. Of need-filling. Perfectly acceptable. Totally allowed. And…maybe missing was allowed. Because if she was being honest with herself, she missed Sabrina, too.
Chapter Seven
That Sunday afternoon in June was gorgeous—not too warm, not too cool, sunny, a blue sky filled with puffy cotton ball clouds—the best kind of summer day to Adley. She didn’t love high heat and humidity. Neither did she love super cold, with piles and piles of snow. But she could appreciate a day like this, especially after spending her entire day inside, scooping, selling, creating ice cream and ice cream desserts. There’d been a time when she wouldn’t leave the shop before nine or ten on a summer night when they were open late, but over the past several months, Scottie had convinced her that it wouldn’t matter if her business survived this downturn if she wasn’t alive to care because she’d worked herself into the ground.
It was a valid point.
So, here she was, weirdly buzzing with a nervous energy that had become an almost regular thing for her with regard to her business, closing the door of her car and then walking toward the fenced-in dog park section of the larger Ridgecrest Park. She could see Scottie in the back corner, talking to another woman and watching as her new puppy, Blue, ran himself ragged with four other dogs. Another person came up behind Adley with a key card and held the gate open for her.
“Hey, Scooter,” she said as she approached Scottie.
“You made it.” Scottie’s face showed genuine glee at the fact, which told Adley that a large part of her probably thought she’d blow her off.
“I did. How’s the doggo?” She watched as Blue got rolled by a larger dog but got right back up and shook himself off, then jumped back into the fray.
“He’s a maniac. I may have to bring him here a couple times a week to run off some of his puppy energy or he’s gonna eat our house.” The mix of worry and giddiness on her face really was kind of cute.
“Backyard’s not doing the trick?” Adley asked, as the dogs tore past them in one furry blur of legs, heads, and flapping ears.
“I was just telling Grace here that he doesn’t run like this when he’s alone in our yard.”
The woman standing next to her was pretty, with dark hair pulled back and a black T-shirt. She smiled at Adley and held out a hand to shake. Adley introduced herself, and Grace used her chin to point out a black and brown dog that looked like a large beagle mix of some kind. “Delilah’s a little older, but holy crap, she becomes a puppy again when I bring her here.” She watched for a minute, then asked Scottie, “So, you just started coming here?”
“We got him for our kid a few months ago, and he was just a love. Still is.” Scottie followed Blue with her eyes as she spoke. “Now that he’s six months old, I can almost see his energy levels written on his adorable furry face. Decided to give this park a try, even though I’ve heard many a dog park horror story.”
Scottie and Grace kept talking, and Adley only partially listened. Her brain was too full, and her entire body was thrumming. Excess energy, worry for her business, guilt about standing in a dog park instead of behind the counter at her shop, desire to have a pet of her own, all of these things combined inside her to turn her into a big ball of nervous energy. Not a person who enjoyed jogging—or who had ever voluntarily jogged in her life, at all—she absently wondered if she needed to go for a run. Or take a hike. Or go mountain biking. Skateboarding? Should she drop in on a half-pipe? Would that level of adrenaline surge then calm her? Because seriously, she felt like a walking stick of dynamite whose fuse was burning precariously low.
As Scottie and Grace continued their in-depth discussion about the dogs they loved and the bowel movements of said dogs, Adley scanned the rest of the park, beyond the dog park’s fencing. Two guys playing Frisbee. A couple on a blanket, a picnic basket between them. A woman on a bench under a tree, reading. Two women pushing a stroller. A man—hang on. She backed up to the woman reading under the tree. She squinted, then felt a surge of warm happiness. With a quick stroke down Scottie’s arm, she said, “Be right back,” and headed for the exit of the fencing.
Once outside the dog park, she glanced down at herself. She’d come right from the shop and hadn’t had a chance to change. And hadn’t really thought about it. It was just Scottie. It was just the dog park. But there was a chocolate ice cream spot on her jeans, and she had three rainbow sprinkles stuck to her left forearm. Brushing them away, she fixed her hair under her hat with the word Scoop on it—which she did not dare take off because she’d had it on all day and hat hair was a serious thing. She smoothed the ponytail sticking through the hat and hanging between her shoulder blades, straightened her white V-neck T-shirt that had stayed surprisingly clean under her apron, took a deep breath, and headed for the tree.
“I would never in a million years have pegged you for a true crime fan,” she said when she got close enough for Sabrina to hear her. She was in lightly washed jeans and a black Henley with the sleeves pushed up to reveal her forearms and what looked like a fresh manicure, her nails a deep burgundy. And when she looked up from her book, the happiness to see Adley was so clearly written on her face that it nearly made Adley swoon right there in the grass where she stood. Aaaaand I’m wet. Bam. Just like that. Did Sabrina have any idea of the power she held?
“Oh, I am not just a fan. I’m a full-blown junkie. True crime books. Podcasts. Dateline. 20/20. Netflix documentaries. Give them all to me.” Sabrina put her bookmark in her book and closed it. “What in the world are you doing here?” she asked as she scooted to make room on the bench.
Adley sat, feeling suddenly warm and relaxed and utterly turned-on, all at the same time. She gestured vaguely toward the dog park. “My friend is there with her dog and asked me to come by and say hi. I just happened to see you sitting here—with your I’m sure super relaxing, not-at-all stressful book—and thought I’d come say hello.”
Sabrina laughed, a low, throaty sound that did nothing to alleviate that dampness between Adley’s legs. “The anxiety is worth it when the bad guy gets caught and justice is done.”