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I swallowed the anxiety that creeped into my throat. “It was just a stupid game.”
Or so I thought.
Chapter 9
Chelsea
There was never a dull moment at the Misty Point Herald. I chuckled and looked around the fenced-in park. Balloons hung from the chain link fence, and there was a large sign that spelled out “Happy Birthday, Happy Paws Shelter!” It was adoggy birthday party to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the new shelter that sat between Hazy Cove and Misty Point.
A yellow lab bounded past me after a ball, and his owner waved apologetically. I waved back with a laugh, scanning the rest of the park. There was a stand with kettle corn and another with an array of fried foods, and settled between them was a small crowd of kids. At the center stood a man with a bundle of balloons hanging out of his back pocket.
“Shit,” I hissed when he turned around. I looked at the lack of trees and obstacles in the dog park—there was nowhere to hide. Graham’s eyes widened, and he waved with a nod. With a sigh, my feet carried me in that direction.
“Hey, pretty lady.” He didn’t turn to face me, watching me from the corner of his eye as I walked up. Graham used a handheld pump to blow up a balloon, twisting it around his hand.
I tucked my notebook in my back pocket. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m making a purple cat.” Graham looked at the balloon in his hand and smirked. “What areyoudoing here?”
Huffing, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m working.” I nodded my head at the barking chaos behind me like it should explain that I was here on media business.
“I was the contractor on the new shelter. I volunteer here a lot. It’s kind of like a home away from home.” He shrugged, a soft, content look painted on his features. “So, I’m making balloon animals.”
Graham leaned down, handing the purple cat to a little boy who nearly danced at his ankles. The boy snatched it from him, letting out a shriek and turning around to run away with it held in the air. The other kids chased the boy, their own balloonsin tow. I giggled, and Graham turned towards me, pulling a deflated pink balloon from his pocket.
“What is your favorite animal?” he asked, stretching it.
I scrunched my nose, watching as he filled the balloon. “A butterfly.”
“A butterfly isn’t an animal.” Graham raised his eyebrows, tying the balloon shut with a quiet squeak.
“Don’t be a jackass,” I said under my breath, making sure none of the kids in the crowd that had started to form around us could hear me.
Graham twisted the balloon, and I imagined it was rope in his grasps instead of rubber. “I’m just saying.” He snapped the final antenna, holding up a bubblegum-pink butterfly. I reached out to take it from him, but he pulled it back. “What do you say you let me buy you a drink when this thing ends?”
I looked over my shoulder at the party, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth and biting down. “I don’t know.” I hesitated, staring at the balloon butterfly he held. The crowd of kids gathering around us started to grow anxious, getting louder.
“Oh come on, butterfly. You kind of owe me after bailing on me for the interview, don’t you?” Graham smirked, and my stomach flipped. A couple of dachshunds snuck between us, running over towards a table that held a cake that could’ve been for the humans or the dogs—I couldn’t risk eating it.
“A drink sounds great.”
Chapter 10
Graham
“What are you drinking?” I asked Chelsea when the bartender walked up to us. I could hardly believe I’d gotten her to agree to a drink in the first place. She had seemed reluctant, but when she found me in the parking lot at the end of the event, I was pleasantly surprised.
Is that drink offer still on the table?
“Red wine?” She scanned the bottles behind the bar and scrunched her lips like she might change her mind. “Yeah, red wine. House label is fine.”
“Make it two,” I said. The bartender nodded and walked away, grabbing a couple of glasses. “I’m surprised you agreed to this.”
Chelsea’s eyes widened, and she looked shocked. “Why?”
“Because you were supposed to meet me at the radio station and bailed on me.” I cocked my head to the side, and her cheeks turned a dark pink.
“I can explain.” She stopped talking when the bartender sat our drinks down, sucking her lip into her mouth and biting down. When she did, the blood from my head rushed to my cock.
