Page 28 of Pretty Wild

When the vet at the chain store checked him over, she was surprised to only find burrs in his fur and no fleas. I bought whatever shampoo she recommended and am planning to give him his first real bath in my guest bathroom, since it’s the one with the tub. Together, we head inside, and even when I’m tasked with bathing the dog, keeping him off the furniture while he dries, and giving him an extra treat for being such a good boy through it all, I can’t help but think about Ryan.

About the kiss.

Even when I go to bed, I lie here with her on my mind. I want to know more about her. I want to click every single one of those links and see more photos, but I don’t. Why? Hell if I know. I’ve got the resolve of steel, apparently, because as much as I want to look, I don’t. Half that shit’s probably not true anyway, right?

There’s only one way to find out what I want to know, and that’s from the source herself. Maybe if I get to know her more, the infatuation I suddenly have for her mouth will fade. Perhaps I won’t like her at all. Seems to me the only way to get past Ryan is to go through her, figuratively speaking.

So that’s what I’ll do. Instead of avoiding her, I’ll let my curiosity get the better of me. This way, I’ll prove to myself we’re too different, too opposite to ever be anything more than renter/landlord. The kiss will mean nothing and any desire for more will evaporate like rain. Why? Because who wants to kiss a woman they can’t stand? And something tells me the canyon will become apparent between Ryan and me, our differences too big and too deep.

It’s a long, sleepless night, filled with images of her and replays of the kiss.

A kiss I long to repeat.

“What do you say we take the boat out for a spin today?” I ask Buddy after he comes in from doing his morning business. His tail wags, and he seems eager, even though he probably has no clue what I’m saying.

It’ll be the first big run for my Jon boat this year, though I’ve had it in the shop and already completed a tune-up. I might even indulge myself on this Memorial Day and grab a fishing pole from the shed and wet a line. It’s one of my favorite ways to unwind, and unfortunately, I just don’t get to do it as often as I’d like.

I head to the kitchen and pack a cooler. I make a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches, wash a bundle of grapes and put them in a baggie, and add some bottles of water and chips. I make sure to grab a bowl so Buddy has fresh water and start making a pile by the front door. The moment he spots his leash, Buddy gets excited and starts spinning circles. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll go for a little walk before we get on the boat.” How good the dog is will determine how long we stay out. If he’s hyper and all over the place, then we’ll cut the trip short. It might take a few trips out in the boat before he settles into the activity. Though, if he’s anything like he is in the truck, then we should be fine.

Time will tell.

I step outside, Buddy right behind me, and make my way to the garage. Since my truck is still at the shop and I have the tow here, I’m gonna have to take Grandpa’s old one. I love driving this thing, but I don’t get it out as much as I should. Mostly because it’s hard not to see him behind the wheel anymore.

Pulling open the big roll door on the side of the garage, I step back and take in the 1959 Chevy Apache truck. This beautiful candy apple red, short-bed truck, with step sides and an upgraded 283 V8 engine, was purchased by my grandpa straight off the lot, and was his until the day he died. We’d take this truck out for a cruise on Sundays, grab lunch at the diner, and make sure she stretched her legs for a bit.

Those are the memories I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.

“What do you think, Buddy? Wanna take Betsy out for a ride?”

He barks, as if to tell me he’s all in for a ride in Grandpa’s old truck.

“All right, let’s get it loaded up, okay?”

Buddy stays close by but also checks out the yard as I load the cooler and fishing stuff into the bed. When it’s ready, I make my way to my boat behind the garage. Pulling off the cover, I grab a full can of gas and set it inside the boat, as well as verifying I have all my emergency supplies. When it appears I’m set, I turn my attention to my eager pup. “Ready to hit the road?”

His tongue dangles and his ears perk up.

“Come on, boy. Let’s go close up the house,” I say.

Just as we round the corner from the back of the garage, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Buddy notices too and starts barking. I’m unable to say a word before he takes off toward the intruder. “Buddy, stop!” I holler just as someone emerges through the clearing off to the side.

Ryan is there and instantly drops to the ground to welcome Buddy. He eagerly kisses her cheek—causing a bubble of jealousy to pop in my gut—his little tail wagging harder than it ever has. He’s practically dancing, happy to see the woman renting the cabin.

She glances up as I slowly approach. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Something tightens in my chest as I take in her casual, yet completely put together appearance. Or maybe it’s the fact she’s wearing the other ball cap I gave her, looking like she fell out of one of my wet dreams.

“Sorry to just drop in on you like this. I was exploring and followed the trail.” Her hand continues to run over Buddy’s back, showering him with lots of attention.

“It’s fine. There’re several trails around the property. I own twenty acres.”

Her eyes widen. “Wow, that’s a lot.”

I nod, shoving my hands into my pockets so I don’t reach for her.

“So, what are you two up to today?” she asks, standing up and waiting.

“Taking the boat out for a spin.”

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