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“What’s up?” she pushed. “It’s not Fred, is it?”
I shook my head. “No, she’s fine. She’s in the back room sleeping.”
Fred always came to work with me. It was a perk behind being the sole full-time librarian in a small town library and the fact that everyone loved my dog. Mallory knew she was having puppies. So did the kids in the group. So did many other people, except Daniel Pearson. Until now.
“Well, I’ve never seen you like this before.” Her dark eyes looked me over as if she could figure it out by my clothes. “You’re… flustered.”
Flustered. Me.
Was I? Yes. Definitely yes.
Who had an attractive man storm into their vet visit and make their panties wet? Yes, my panties got wet.
That was the problem!
I was always stable. Always calm. Placid. My grandmother always told me when I was little that when I was bothered by something–usually because of my mother or any situation associated with her–I needed to make my face as placid as possible, like the surface of a lake at dawn. Smooth. Calm. Perfect.
I looked to a row of books, noticed the spines weren’t aligned and shifted them into an even line. “I… I met a guy I… find attractive.”
When she said nothing, I glanced her way. It seemed my confession had her eyes light up as if I told her Santa was coming tonight instead of in December. “Who? Where? Do I know him? Why him?” She looked me over again. “Oh… you’ve got zings in the things.”
“Zings in the things?” I repeated on a whisper. “Who says that?”
“Me. Now spill.”
“We have to get back.”
She waved her hand through the air like a real teacher, knowing the kids could survive for thirty seconds without attention or being read a story. “The kids are fine. Spill.”
“Daniel Pearson.” I bit my lip after saying it, a little afraid of how she would respond.
“The tree guy who lives down the street from you?” She tapped her lip. “I can see it. He’s hot in a… golden retriever kind of way.”
Golden retriever? Daniel? Oh, she thought–
“You told me he asked you out, but I didn’t know you went,” she continued before I could correct her. “That’s so great.”
The younger Daniel Pearson did live down the street, house sitting for his grandmother. We met a few months ago when he was walking his dog. He’d asked me out and I agreed because he was cute and my age. Fred had liked him, and his dog, too. Obviously.
I grimaced. “No. I mean, yes, we went out twice. Coffee and then lunch, but there’s nothing there.”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Coffeeandlunch?Of course there’s nothing there with those kinds of dates. Public, during the day and I assume you met him instead of being picked up.”
I nodded.
She muttered, “Golden retriever.”
“The dogs hit it off better than we did,” I admitted. “His dog’s Fred’s baby daddy.”
Fred was technically my grandmother’s dog, although with her out of the country, she was pretty much mine. Nana wanted to breed her and planned to take care of the new puppies over the summer when the semester in Europe was done, but it seemed nature had different ideas. Including who the doggie dad was because the Pearson dog wasn’t the Toy Pom of her friend, Nancy Shultz. The intended sperm donor.
“Right. Obviously,” she said. “I don’t understand then. If it didn’t work out, why are you still thinking about him?”
I paused, took a breath. “I’m… um… attracted to the other Daniel Pearson.”
Her brow dropped into a deep frown.
