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“I’m sorry.” She comes to a stop and chugs in air. “I had—” She looks back at her house. “Never mind. I’m here now.”
I force myself not to question her with my expression, and swallow down the interrogation. “Hey, Steve, a new friend for you.” I let him pull me towards Lo and Boris, his body shaking with excitement at seeing one of his kind. Boris looks just as pleased to see Steve, and they both start sniffing each other’s arses. I grimace. “Nice.” Steve circles around me, and Boris circles Lo, both of them running excited rings around us, their leads getting all caught up. “Shit.” I grab the side of my car, and Lo grabs me.
“My legs.” She laughs, looking down at the tangle of limbs, dogs, and leather leads. “Boris, stop it.”
“Whoa.” I catch Lo as she falls forward, forsaking Steve’s lead to save her from toppling. “I’ve got you,” I say, wondering what on earth we must look like, causing chaos on the street corner.
I unravel my legs and dip to collect Steve’s lead, holding Lo as I do. “I’m good.” She chuckles, pushing back off my chest with her palms. Once we’ve regained control of our dogs, we start to wander down to the park, chatting easily. Always so easily. Her smile doesn’t fall once. Not once. “So Todd basically uses your bar as a knocking shop?”
“Pretty much,” I reply, watching Lo rub her hands together. “You cold?”
“I forgot my gloves, and this coat doesn’t have pockets.” She indicates down her gray, woolen knee-length coat.
I cock her my arm, encouraging her to hold on. She smiles and places her hands around my coat sleeve, and I bring my arm in close to my body so her hands are trapped between my upper arm and my torso. And it feels so . . . right. Natural. Which is plain odd. “Better?”
“Much, thank you. But he has his own place, right?”
I frown, trying to remember what we were talking about.
“Todd,” she prompts, looking up at me with a smile.
“Oh, yes.” I laugh lightly. “He does, but the girlfriend who he didn’t know was his girlfriend trashed the joint.”
“No,” Lo gasps. “All because he split up with her?”
“He claims they were never together.”
“But she was living there?”
“Apparently she snuck her stuff in bit by bit. He didn’t notice until her mail started arriving.”
“God, you two sure do pick them.”
I laugh my agreement and something comes to me, something I haven’t told Lo. “Hey, remember Amanda?”
“Whose calls you were dodging,” she says sardonically, giving me high eyebrows. “You never did tell me what had you concluding she’s a nutter.”
“That’s because you didn’t reply to my text.” I knock my shoulder into hers playfully.
“I’m here now,” she muses, almost thoughtfully, looking forward. Yes, she’s here now. But for how long? I swallow, getting back to the matter at hand, my mind probably diverting me away from the other matter at hand because I can’t face the answer. “Anyway, I woke up with a Tiffany’s catalogue on my bedside table.”
“No way.”
“Yes way. Subtle, huh?” I look down at Lo’s grinning face and return her beam.
“Oh boy,” she muses, and I nod my agreement. “So I assume she’s been cast aside.”
“I don’t cast women side, Lo. I place them.”
“If it makes you feel better, Luke. How’s Tia getting on?”
“It does. And Tia’s great. Found Stig of the Dump and decided to elope to Cambodia.”
“Stig of the Dump?”
I hand Lo Steve’s lead and fish through my pocket for my phone, opening Tia’s text and pointing the screen at Lo. “Stig of the Dump,” I confirm.
She bursts into fits of laughter, so I put my phone back in my pocket, letting her have her moment, the pleasure of listening to her too thrilling to try and rein her in. My smile is unstoppable, and so is the deep warmth in my heart. I place her hand back into the crook of my arm and take back Steve’s lead as we continue down the path, Steve with his nose constantly up Boris’s arse.
“You sound thrilled,” Lo muses, gazing up at me. “Worried another man is going to steal her from you?”
“Very. She’s a real daddy’s girl. It has nothing to do with the fact that I’m a walkover or my bank balance is healthy, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Lo’s head falls onto my shoulder, and I look down, thinking how good it looks there. Who would have thought this could be so pleasurable? Walking in the freezing cold with dogs, just chatting.
“What about your parents?” I ask. She’s never spoken about them. About none of her family, actually. Have I overstepped the mark by asking? I don’t know, but it seems to be feeling more and more unfair that I have detailed every tiny thing there is to know about me to Lo, yet she’s held back so much about herself. That’s not how friends work.
