“I’m just trying to do my job.”
“I know. And from where I was sitting, I can see he knows that too.” She looks at me, her gaze direct. “Which is why he’s so pissed. He can’t dismiss you as incompetent. So he’s trying to push you away.”
"And I just take that?"
Darcy shakes her head. "Fuck no! Show him who's boss girl. Don't take anyone's shit."
The words land, heavy and true.
She's right. I came here to change. To stop being de-humanized for being different.
Darcy pays the bill despite my protests and the flashy new corporate credit card sitting in my pocket, then we walk back along the boardwalk with some to-go iced coffees in hand.
The ocean breeze is pulling at my ponytail, and the boardwalk is starting to come alive with energy.
Tourists in flip-flops and sunburned shoulders wander between food trucks and souvenir stands. The carousel spins lazily in the distance, its cheerful music drifting on the breeze. Gulls cry overhead, and the scent of grilled fish and kettle corn hangs in the salt air.
I'm mid-sip of my iced coffee, actually starting to feel human again
I’m feeling better. Lighter. Armed with cookies and good old fashioned gal-pal camaraderie.
Then, up ahead, gathered near a cool looking taco truck, a crowd is gathering. And at the center of it…
Stand three shirtless Morrison brothers.
And a dog.
“I’m just saying, we can’t leave him here!”
Beck’s voice, loud and dramatic, carries on the wind. He’s gesturing wildly at a scruffy, sandy-colored mutt sitting patiently at Mason’s feet. The dog has one ear that stands up and onethat flops, and a tail that’s wagging so hard its entire back end is swinging.
Declan stands with his arms crossed over his bare chest, and somehow, I forget how to breathe.
His torso is a ridiculous display of muscle, with abs carved in sharp lines, shoulders that could carry the weight of the fucking world, and that dark sleeve of ink winding down his left arm. Sweat glistens in the dip of his collarbone, and lower, disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts, that V-cut that made me lose my mind three nights ago.
My mouth goes dry. My thighs clench involuntarily.
Stop it. He called you 'woman.' You are NOT attracted to him right now.
But my traitorous body doesn't get the memo. Heat floods my cheeks, and I pray to every god I don't believe in that Darcy doesn't notice the way I'm staring.
“For fuck’s sake, Beck. We’re not keeping a stray dog,” Declan growls as we draw nearer.
Mason is crouched beside the dog, scratching behind its ear. “He’s been here for weeks, Dec. No collar. No tags.”
“We feed him every time we’re down here!” Beck announces, as if presenting evidence to a jury. “Tell them, Mase!”
“I’ve never seen him with an owner," Mason sighs.
Darcy strides forward, me trailing in her wake like a stunned duckling. She divides the small crowd gathered around, a collection of teenagers and cyclists who have all stopped in their tracks to witness the argument.
“Way to make the Bears look good, guys," Darcy snaps, moving into the center. "Public bickering and causing a scene. What’s going on?”
Beck’s face lights up when he sees us. “Darcy! Josie! Perfect timing. TellCaptain No Soulover here that we’re keeping the dog.”
Declan’s gaze snaps to me, and his eyes are stormier than they were in the meeting.Fuck.They flick over my face, then drop to my lips for a heartbeat before he looks away.
The dog wags its tail harder, trotting over to sniff my shoes.
