Page 49 of Townshipped
Aiden laughs for the first time in hours. Our eyes catch and I send him a smile. I think of what his mom said about his cousin. And then Doc seemed to be concerned about one doe in particular. Aiden’s got me to worry about, and now the stray dog. No wonder he seems overburdened.
“Is that a dog?” Laura’s face lights up. The stray doesn’t move off the porch. His face points toward the door like he’s afraid moving will mean he doesn’t get to come inside ever again.
As if he reads my thoughts, Aiden says, “Why don’t we move this party inside. The dog wants to warm up.”
“When did you get a dog?” Duke asks, slinging his arm around my shoulder like we’re old friends—or more.
Aiden stops in his tracks. Turns. Then he physically lifts Duke’s arm from off my shoulders and lets it drop to Duke’s side.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” Aiden says with a pointed look at his friend.
Duke cracks up. Laura wags her eyebrows at me. I suppress a smile. Territorial Aiden might be my favorite version of this man.
“The dog showed up here this afternoon. Totally matted in mud. No collar,” Aiden explains as if he didn’t just go completely caveman on his best friend.
“You keeping it?” Duke asks.
“If he’s got nowhere to go.”
“Typical,” Laura says.
“Yep,” Duke agrees.
“Never met a cause he couldn’t get behind,” Laura says.
“Or a need he didn’t feel compelled to fill,” Duke adds.
My face falls. I pull it together quickly. Is that what I am? A need to fill? A cause?
We walk into the kitchen followed by the stray.
“So, let’s name him,” Duke offers.
“I was thinking of Harlowe,” I say.
“Harlowe?” Aiden asks with a confused expression. “I was thinking something more like Granger or Buck.”
Laura laughs.
Buck. Buck?That name.
Duke says, “What about Shelby?”
“After your precious car?” Laura scoffs.
“She recognized the car,” Duke explains to Laura, hooking a thumb in my direction. “Knew the model and year, according to Aiden. It’s a sentimental name.”
My mind isn’t on Duke’s next words because my head fills with the image of a house with four garage bays. Two of them hold luxury midsize cars—a Mercedes and a BMW. The other two spots house restored vehicles. The first is a black Austin Healey convertible roadster with red interior. Nineteen sixty-two.
My eyes travel and I see her. Acapulco blue. The Shelby. The garage stands open. Dad’s getting in and revving the engine. “Hop in, Mal! Let’s take her for a spin!”
Mal.
My head throbs for a moment.
“Hey, are you okay?” Laura looks over at me.
Before I can answer, Aiden’s by my side with his arm around me. His warm, spicy scent envelops me as I collapse into his support. Duke and Aiden exchange a look over my head.
