Page 9

“Heel.”

He stares at my hand holding the treat. I can almost see the internal battle going on behind his eyes, a fight between ‘Don’t tell me what to do’ and 'Ooh, a treat.’ As predicted and hoped for, the treat wins.

“There you go. Good boy.”

Now, time to hurry to Caleb’s before he changes his mind and remembers his intention to play the stubborn teenager.

Thankfully, the streets of Wayward Hollow are fairly empty. Usually, I get stopped every few steps, either because someone wants to cuddle Dick or chat with me. No idea how everyone in Wayward Hollow got the impression I want to be up to date on gossip.

Not today, though. The sky is hidden behind thick gray clouds, and the wind is so strong that I was fearing for my life at home. I mean, what if one of the gazillion trees around my house falls down and crushes me? I’m too young to die. And too pretty.

So, I decided to take a trip to downtown Wayward Hollow and hang out with my friends at Caleb’s - the local café, arrogantly named after its owner. Which is funny because Caleb is not arrogant at all. Maybe a snob about his coffee and flavor syrups diluting it, and grumpy, but certainly not arrogant about it. However, the man has an unbreakable resting bitch face. I’d know. I tried to break him, but so far, only Lauren managed to do it.

Exactly as I thought, the rest of my lakeside mansion owner gang is huddled around a table in the corner.

There’s Nic and Lauren, who moved here around the same time as I did. Both of them used to be actresses, and it shows. Not because they keep their noses up in the sky, but because they carry themselves with a sturdy confidence only celebrities possess.

Nic is now taking courses for interior design, while Lauren helps out at the local antique store or her boyfriend’s café, their Hollywood careers long behind them.

The fourth mansion remained empty for the longest time until Kylie moved in there only two months ago - and promptly knocked on my door in a panic because she found human bones in her backyard. She’s currently stealing a cookie off Nic’s plate, the three of them giggling as if they’ve been friends forever. Without me. Rude.

“Hey, Caleb.” I shoot the gruff café owner behind his counter a wide smile as I approach. “What delicacies do you have today?”

“Take your pick.” He nods toward the glass showcase. “There’s not a lot of customers today, so go for it.”

For a minute, I can only stare at all the pastries in his display case. Cinnamon rolls, various pies, some kind of chocolate twists, cookies — he’s got everything my heart desires and my blood sugar despises. Sadly, only so much fits in my stomach.

“You’ve upped your game, man.” Damn, it all looks and smells mouthwateringly delicious. Dick trudges past me, right to our usual table where he’s greeted with pets and smiles.

“I’ll take a piece of apple pie now, and one of everything to take home.” I straighten my back and rub my hands together. Oh, this is going to be a feast!

“How the hell are you keeping your figure?” Someone pokes my biceps and a light blonde appears in my periphery. I turn and grin at Lauren.

“I’m a big boy. I need my calories.”

She lets out a wistful sigh, lips pursing in a pout. “God, I wish I had your metabolism.”

“Please,” I scoff and shake my head. “Do you really think these,”—I point at my biceps and flex for good measure—" are the result of metabolism? I can give you my training schedule. Join me and you too can be a buff babe who gets to eat a shit ton of pastries.”

As soon as I mention the word training, her face pulls into a grimace.

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass, but thank you. Another thing, though—are you aware Dick is currently chewing on a table leg?”

My gaze flies past her to my stubborn, furry son.

Indeed, he is leaving his mark on a random table. Damn it. I thought we finally got past his ‘chewing on furniture stage.’

With a sigh, I take a beef stick out of my jacket and lean down to offer it to him instead. Only my torso bends over though, because I’ve learned my lessons on crouching.

“Sorry about that,” I tell Caleb as I straighten my back again. “Let me know if Dimitri needs to fix it.”

He leans over the counter to check out the damage. “You’re good. As long as the leg isn’t breaking off, it’s fine.”

My eyes widen. I was expecting a lecture, a snide remark, but this? Who is this person and what have they done to the tight-lipped, strict café owner I got to know a year ago?

“You’ve become so much more chilled since you got your own dog.” I shoot him a wide grin.

Last Thanksgiving, Henry brought a dog from Brooke’s shelter along for dinner at Nic’s, and it was love at first sight. Grumpy old Labrador meets grumpy café owner, a match made in heaven.