Page 14 of Will Bark for Pizza
“He’s anAlaskanHusky.”
“Is that supposed to mean something special?”
“It’s the reason he doesn’t look like the typical Siberian Husky. He’s a mixed breed, bred to be a sled dog. In Alaska.”
I looked at the dog, who had his head tilted so far to the right it should hurt. But he didn’t seem in pain. Just curious about what his mom was up to as she collected flip-flops and her phone from the shore.
“Bet he loves the snow.”
“You have no idea.” Her smile caused her blue eyes to sparkle. It made me forget where I was or that my soaked jeans clung uncomfortably to my legs. Or that I really should send Luke that text. Hell, I’m not sure I could recite my full name at the moment.
But I sure wanted to know hers.
Against my better judgment, I asked, “Am I allowed to ask your name, or is that against the serial killer code?”
“That would take all the fun out of it, don’t you think?”
She flashed me a flirty look that hadDanger! Danger!shouting inside my head. I knew all I needed to know. She was a redhead, she was trouble, and she wasn’t from here. It was best if I detangled myself now before I did something half-witted—like ask for her number.
I carried the board back toward her Jeep—of course it was red, too—and set it down as she led Husker to the back and hooked his leash on the trailer hitch. “Where’s your paddle?”
“What?”
“Don’t paddleboards normally come with a paddle?”
“Dammit,” she hissed, looking back at the lake. It was too dark to tell if it was floating out there somewhere.
“You’re supposed to attach the paddle to your foot, right?”
She held up the aforementioned tether with its Velcro ankle strap. “I took it off.”
“I might have an extra one. A paddle, that is.”
She glanced back through the trees, where I parked hours ago. “In your truck?”
“No, back at the place where I’m staying.”Shut the hell up, Beckett.
She let out a laugh, the gentle chime of it almost rusty with disuse. It sent my thoughts spinning, coming up with ways to let her practice.
“Nope,” she said, still smiling but also shaking her head. “That’s just another thing a serial killer would say to lure me to my death—where there are no witnesses.”
“Actually, there would be a lot of witnesses.”
It wasn’t just Luke’s grandparents there. It was Connor and his daughter, too. Though I appreciated my solitude—something Karl’s cabin could afford me should I decide to pull the trigger—I thoroughly enjoyed the bustling nature of the quaint homestead the family called a farm. It was crawling with people and chickens alike. Somehow, I suspected it was the last thing she’d want.
“Thanks, but no thanks. It’s just a paddle.” Red pulled a towel from the back of her Jeep and dried herself off. “I can get another one.”
I forced myself to turn all the way around and stare out at the lake. Forced myself to think about anything else other than the way water droplets clung to her skin. For a beat, I pictured the view ahead of me as my own. The way the mountains turned to shadowy silhouettes after the sun was behind them. It was a view I’d get to enjoy every evening. I could easily imagine spending time out here, enjoying the serenity and isolation on what little downtime I might have. Despite my hesitation and the possible walking omen behind me, something about this place felt right.
“You want me to deflate your board?” I asked, deciding Karl wouldn’t mind if I slept on the decision, considering his penchant for changing his mind. Besides, it was late enough as it was.
“I appreciate you saving us and all, but really, you can go now.” She reappeared at the side of her Jeep wearing a hoodie. She made a subtle, not-so-subtle shooing motion with her hand. “I got it from here.”
It was the out any sane man who was eager to avoid a curse would take. I almost did. I started to round her Jeep, headed back toward the cabin for my truck. But then I spotted a giant half-eaten cookie in her front seat. If the interior light wasn’t on, I wouldn’t have noticed it at all. “atulations ook 25?”
“What?”
“The cookie. Or what’s left of it.”
