Page 39 of The Geography of Happiness

Have some fun.Step outside your comfort zone.Spencer’s words again.

I strolled down to the lake’s edge, dipped my toes in the crystal-clear water, and gasped.Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I yanked them back onto the warm stones and sucked in a breath. It felt like it had just melted from the glacier that morning. People swam in that? Were they fucking crazy?

I glanced once more to the driveway and then back to the lake. I replayed the morning’s disaster in my head, the look of disappointment on Hannah’s face, and thought, fuck it.

Before I could change my mind, I’d stripped down to my briefs, left my clothes hanging on the old rowboat, and taken the plunge.

And motherfucking fuckity fucking shitballs, it was freezing fucking cold.

So cold I couldn’t catch my breath.

So cold my brain shut down in protest, which was probably a good thing as it meant my reflexes took over to keep me from drowning and force some oxygen into my lungs.

I gulped some air and then dived under the water, pumping my arms and legs to jump-start some circulation. And when the blessed numbness finally kicked in, I pushed off the bottom and swam the fastest twenty-five metres in the history of the world before beating a hasty retreat back to the shore, cursing and stumbling over the uneven stones with my blue balls lodged somewhere around my armpits; my skin a charming shade of what-the-fuck-are-you-doing corpse white; and a jump-the-queue fast ticket to hypothermia.

Safely out of the water, I grabbed my clothes and sprinted for the cottage and the hottest shower I could possibly stand. A few minutes later as I stood under the steaming needles of water wearing a grin from ear to ear, I realised I’d forgotten all about my shit start to the morning, and I’d actually had fun, goddammit. Motherfucking Spencer Thompson could eat his damned heart out and I couldn’t wait to tell him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Spencer

“That’s the last one.”I whistled for Wolfie to jump down from the bench and the collie took off at breakneck speed. “Holy smokes, he’s fast.”

“Like a bullet.” Alek joined me in watching the dog run hell for leather toward the woolshed. “I told Holden the mother must be greyhound,” Alek said in his thick Russian accent. He whistled Thor to his side and the bitsa border collie cross German shepherd cross who the hell knew what wandered over from where he’d been keeping an eye on us from under the tree. “This lazy arse has spoiled lapdog mama for sure.”

I laughed. “Spoiled or not, he sure seems to have adopted you.” I finished writing up the last vaccination card and put my pen down so I could scratch the dog’s ears.

Alek patted Thor’s head fondly. “Crazy dog. Holden wants to give him me but not right.” He shook his head. “Holden too kind already.”

I caught Alek’s eye and raised a brow. “You know damn well Holden doesn’t make offers for no reason. If he says you should have Thor, it’s because he thinks you’ve earned him. And it’s notcharity, Alek. If Thor and you click as a team, then that’s good business for Holden too, right?”

Alek went quiet for a moment. “You think?”

I nodded.

Alek knelt and pulled the adoring dog into a rough hug. “Dunno. Maybe.”

Aka done and dusted.I swallowed a smile. Holden could thank me later.

“How ’bout you?” Alek looked up.

“What do you mean?” I started packing my equipment.

“Silo’s been dead a while, right?”

I nodded. “Two years.”

Alek shook his head. “Vet without dog? It seems wrong.”

I kept packing so he didn’t notice my eyes blinking hard. “Takes a lot of time to train a dog and I work long days. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Mmm,” Alek murmured, sounding unconvinced. “Silo’s a legend.”

I sighed. “Yeah, he was.”Too much so.I snapped the lock shut on my bag and Alek got to his feet. “They’re big shoes to fill, Alek. Needs to be the right one.” An image of Miller sprang from nowhere. Well, not exactly nowhere. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about keeping him. The dog was cute, just like the man who’d brought him in. But he wasn’t Silo, and I couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not.

“Maybe change is—” Alek pursed his lips, struggling for the right word. “—better?” He watched me closely and I tried not to take offence at the big Russian’s suggestion.

Mostly because he was probably right. I clapped him on the shoulder. “I dunno. Maybe.” I threw his own words back at him and winked.

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