Harper finds a few toys in the back yard that were untouched by the fire, and she plays with them, showing each one to Arko. We’re here for over an hour, with nothing to do but play with our dog as a family, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
Jett gets a phone call and walks over to sit on the concrete foundation while he talks. I don’t know who called, and I don’t really care at first. Then I see him smiling and laughing, and I wonder what’s so funny.
“They’re calling it a comeback?” he says, laughing. “I was only there for one race!”
I toss the ball, keeping my attention on him. “No, I haven’t seen the articles,” he says. “Way too busy with the house stuff and the family.”
I swallow. Maybe it’s Marcus? Or one of the Team Loco guys?
“I don’t know man…Shit, I wish.”
My ears strain to hear him while I’m acting like I’m not eavesdropping. What is wrong with me? I’m his wife—I should just go over there and ask who he’s talking to. But something holds me back. He runs a hand through his hair. “Bro, it felt awesome. I missed it so much…They’re saying what about me?” He chuckles. “You know what…tell them sure. Or maybe. Say maybe.”
Maybe what?
Maybe he’ll go back to professional racing?
My heart sinks. Jett loved motocross before he loved me. Then he gave it all up for me. Maybe he regrets that. Maybe all the crap in our lives right now makes him wish he was several states away, with only a dirt bike race to worry about.
Maybe that’s what he’s talking about.
Chapter 8
Jett
Arko’s breath is warm on my cheek as he stands in the back seat of my truck, panting happily after playing for so long. Harper sits in her car seat next to him, one hand on his back at all times. We had a great time in what’s left of our yard but now it’s getting dark so we’re heading back home. Well, not home really—we’re heading back to my parents’ home.
“He’s really good at catching the ball!” Harper says.
“Caleb said playing fetch was his favorite activity,” Keanna says with a smile. “He clearly wasn’t joking!”
”He treats fetch like it’s a life or death situation,” I joke, clicking my left blinker to turn onto the county road that takes us to the outskirts of town. “He loved being free in the yard so much. I feel bad keeping him on leash this past week.”
”Me too,” Keanna says, reaching over and petting him. He licks her cheek. Even in the backseat, he’s a big dog that can simply lean forward and get his slobber all over us in the front seat.
She heaves a sigh. “We need to take him back there every single day so he can get some good exercise.”
I nod. “Definitely. Maybe just until they start rebuilding, because a construction zone might not be safe for him.”
Keanna groans. “I hate this.”
I reach over and squeeze her thigh. “Me too, babe.”
When we get back, Harper and Arko are so exhausted from all the playing that they immediately relax in front of the television in my parents’ living room. Harper sprawls out on top of a couch pillow and Arko cuddles right next to her like he was born to do this instead of a lifetime of police work.
I grab a bag of chips from the kitchen pantry and lean against Keanna’s hip while she stands in the archway that separates the kitchen from the living room. “That’s pretty cute,” I say, nodding to them.
“I’m glad we adopted Arko,” she says.
“Me too. He’s a perfect new family member.”
Her expression turns serious. “Hey…I have a question.”
“What’s on your mind?”
”Was that Marcus on the phone?”
”Oh! Yeah, I totally forgot.” I tip the snack sized bag of chips to my mouth and down the rest of the crumbs.
