Page 23 of Will Bark for Pizza
Wendy’s hardened expression softened as she fished a treat out of her pocket, and offered it to Husker. “We can. You still drink iced coffees?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s more iced coffee running through my veins than blood these days.”
“I’ll make you something to-go.”
“I want more than a coffee date,” Aspen said as Wendy returned to her place behind the counter. The line of customers had grown out the door since I came in, but my dear friend didn’t seem in a hurry to dismiss me.
“I’d like that.”
“I’m off Friday afternoon. Maybe we could go paddleboarding?”
Instantly, the image of a certain sexy stranger flashed in my mind. His intense, yet kind hazel eyes. The heavy stubble dusting his chiseled jaw. The tattoos snaking up his left arm and covering his chest—had there been a black panther?The water droplets clinging to his sculpted muscles. The way his wet jeans hung low on his hips, revealing?—
“Kira?” Aspen’s chuckle brought me back to reality.
“Yes. Friday. Sounds great. So great.”
“You okay?”
“Yep!” Husker tilted his head at my higher than usual octave. With any luck, I’d never run into the sexy stranger ever again. I wasn’t here for that. After everything I went through with the lastsexy strangerwho managed to charm me, I officially swore off men for the foreseeable future. Until I had my own shit together, I didn’t need the complication. I didn’ttrustthe complication. Maybe I never would again.
“You look good as a redhead,” Aspen said. “How long ago did you do that?”
“A couple weeks ago.” During our paddleboarding adventure, I’d tell her why. But I could tell by their growing line of customers that it was time for me to scoot. Two women I didn’t recognize dashed around behind the registers as though there were rockets on their shoes. There was no chance of Aspen escaping for a short break right now.
“I like it.”
“Thanks. Mind if I grab a cupcake to-go?”
“I know just the one you need,” Aspen said, her smile genuine.
Wendy set two iced coffees on top of the bakery case as Aspen boxed up a cupcake. “One for your dad.”
“Thanks,” I said, meaning it, the dread from earlier returning.
“Can I give you a word of advice?” Wendy said.
“Of course.”
“Just listen.”
Aspen handed me a pink box with the Frosted Peaks logo on top.
“I think this will hit the spot.” I nodded. “How much?—”
“See you Friday,” Aspen said, sending me a warm smile before she returned to the crowd of customers, and all but ignored any attempts to do more than leave a tip in the jar.
Husker zigzagged his way down the sidewalk, weaving between amused tourists as we headed toward an outdoor area with several picnic tables down the block. The only open table was tucked in the far corner near a wall of hedges separating the makeshift community picnic area from an alley, and we made a beeline for it.
First, the cupcake. Second, the hard conversation with my dad.
Husker plopped his butt on the ground, his gaze darting between the box and me. Not to my surprise, Aspen included a couple of her dog-bone-shaped treats, even though she knew I’d share my dessert too.
“Take it nice,” I said semi-sternly to Husker.
As if I hadn’t said anything, he went in for the chomp too quickly, and I snatched it back.
“What did I say?”
