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Sara’s eyebrows wing up in surprise.
“I felt guilty about leaving her at Mom and Dad’s, so I took the chance of bringing her.”
“Well, go get her.” Sara laughs. “But give me the breadsticks first.”
Chuckling, I hand the bag over before turning back to my car.
“We’re in, Sades,” I say as I give her the command to get out. We walk back up to the still-open door, Sadie sticking close to my side. Koda and Luna come trotting over to us, and the dogs all give each other hello sniffs. Tails are wagging all around, so after saying my hellos, I step around them to help Sara dish up the food in the kitchen.
She’s still in her workout gear, and I get an even better glimpse at all her silky skin. I never knew toned muscle was a turn-on for me, but I’m having a seriously difficult time keeping my body in check right now. I want to run my hands down her shoulders to the small flare at her hips.
Focus.
“I’m glad our dogs get along. Sadie’s never had much of a chance to make friends before,” I say, forcing my gaze to them instead of on Sara’s ass. She turns, laughing at the three of them wrestling with each other.
“She’s incredible with Luna. I’ve never seen another dog help guide her before.” Sara sets down the plates and starts dishing out pasta.
“Really?” In all the times they’ve played, I never noticed. Watching them now, Sadie noses Luna back to the center of the living room so she doesn’t hit the coffee table.
“Most dogs stay back, letting Koda pull her back into the fray.”
Hearing that makes me feel like a proud dog parent. Like I did something right in raising Sadie, which I recognize is ridiculous. They aren’t kids. You don’t teach your dog to share their toys. But I’m still proud to call her mine.
We plate up our food, piling them high with pasta and breadsticks. Sara has three on her plate, which makes me glad I got two orders.
We sit on the couch, the dogs finally settling down on the floor.
“Oh, my god,” Sara moans around a bite of bread. I can’t hold back my laughter as she shoves the rest of it into her mouth.
She glances at me, her jaw working around the large quantity of food. “Don’t you dare judge me,” she garbles, her mouth full of food.
I hold my hands up in surrender, digging into my food. It really is good enough to warrant Sara’s savage behavior.
“I wasn’t sure when I’d get La Mensa’s breadsticks again,” she says quietly, twirling some pasta around her fork.
“You’ll get there. It may take some time, but one day, it won’t be as hard. Until then, I’ll bring you as many breadsticks as you want.”
“Thanks, Ben.” Her hazel-eyed stare pierces through my chest. Her vulnerability calls to something inside me that longs to have someone to take care of, to cherish.
“Anytime.” I look back at the muted TV, unsure of what to do with these foreign feelings. “Have you heard anything from the police? Do they know who tried to hurt you?”
My question is met with silence, and I glance over at Sara, her fork picking at the noodles on her plate. “You didn’t talk to them, did you?”
She shakes her head, a stubborn set to her jaw. “It’s not a big deal. Nothing happened, so there’s no reason to get anyone else involved.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I saw your mom at the grocery store yesterday.” The quick change in subjects tells me I won’t get any further with my questions.
“What did she say? She’s been grilling me nonstop since I asked her and Dad to pick up your car.” After Sara’s panic attack in the parking lot, I asked them to bring it to the clinic so Sara wouldn’t have to go back to La Mensa until she was ready.
“Oh, nothing much. Just that she was glad her son was finally getting out on the town and that he needed to find himself a good woman to keep him in line. I agreed with her. Told her you might be ready to start looking for that special girl.” She grins at me.
“Evil, evil woman.” I glare at Sara. “She’s going to double down on her matchmaking now.”
Sara’s laugh lights up her eyes, making the shadows disappear for a moment.
“Do you know how many dinners I’ve been to in the last month that were setups for a date? It’s ridiculous. I can find my own woman, thank you very much.” It’s gotten to the point where I’ve just stopped accepting any dinner invitation Mom gives me. I don’t trust her anymore. “Even if I were looking to date, I don’t think I know how anymore,” I say quietly.
“Why?”
I should’ve known Sara wouldn’t have let that comment go. Sighing, I tell her all about my ex. Despite coming to terms with the whole ordeal, I’m still a little wary about dating. How do you dive headfirst into the dating pool after being deceived by the one person you thought you’d be with forever?
