Page 80 of The Weight Of Falling
“You don’t tell me the truth either.”
“I might not tell you everything,” he says carefully. “But I won’t lie.”
A cold gust of wind slices through my jacket and I shiver. He steps closer and angles his body to block the wind.
“Do you need help with Turbo?” he asks. The question is casual, but I notice something that looks a little like apprehension in his eyes.
“I probably do,” I admit, “but I could ask Gideon.”
Even as I say it, I know it’s not fair. Gideon’s newly married, and his free time belongs to Kate and Lisset. A professional trainer would be smarter. And require money I don’t have.
Joel rubs the back of his neck, clearly in a debate with himself. His shirt rides up, and I catch a glimpse of his flat stomach. I immediately pretend I didn’t notice. Which is how he knows I did. His mouth moves in an almost smile.
“I can help you with Turbo,” he says at last, like the words cost him.
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“Did you grow up with dogs?” I ask, curious.
“No.”
“Then how do you know how to train them?”
“I had a dog three years ago,” he says reluctantly. “We took a basic obedience course. I remember enough.”
“What kind of dog was it?”
“Golden retriever.”
“What happened to him?”
He takes a fast, hard breath. “He died.”
The bleakness in his face makes my chest ache. I don’t push. Some doors aren’t mine to open. I touch his arm briefly in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
He nods once, then clears his throat. The tension is back in his shoulders. “We can do a session this afternoon if you’re free.”
“I’m free.”
“Okay.”
“Should I come at your place?” My face flames when realization hits. “I mean, should I come to your place? To!”
Oh, please, please, let a sinkhole suddenly form and swallow me up.
“No,” he says with a smile he can’t quite hide. “I’ll come to you.”
34
“Stop tugging,” Joel calls from the back deck. “You’re giving Turbo mixed signals.”
“Says the king of mixed signals,” I mumble under my breath.
Joel steps down onto the grass and walks toward me, holding out his hand for the leash. With a defeated sigh, I hand it over.
“He’s walking you,” he explains as he makes the leash shorter. “It should be the other way around.”
