Page 50 of The Matchmaker
“I’m just going to stand here,” I say, as Plankton sniffs around Callum’s feet and then wanders off.
I should probably do the same. I mean, I shoulddefinitelydo the same, but my body doesn’t seem to be listening to what my brain is telling it to do. And Callum doesn’t even seem to mind. He just keeps working, ignoring me as he throws handful after handful of branches and weeds into the wheelbarrow until I crack under the silence.
“So did Melissa text back or what?”
He looks confused for a moment before he realizes who I’m talking about, his blind date who never showed. The fact that he’s already forgotten about her makes me feel like the smuggest person in all the land, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“She did,” he says. “She apologized. Said she had a headache.”
“A headache girl.” I tsk. “You didn’t stand a chance. You should stay away from them in the future.”
“You’re not a headache girl then?”
“I’m a stomachache girl. Whole different vibe.” He bends over, the muscles in his back shifting as he grabs another clump of weeds. “Are you going to ask her out again?”
“Nah.” He doesn’t even hesitate, and it’s kind of dumb how pleased that makes me. Pleased enough that I glance around, looking for something to help him with.
“There’s a compost heap around the other side of the house,” I begin grudgingly. “If you want me to— Plankton!”
Callum straightens at my sharp tone, following my gaze to where my dog stands with a guilty look by the gate. The gate that I left open.
“Wait,” I order, taking a tentative step toward him. “Plankton? Wait.”
“Is he not allowed out the front?” Callum asks.
“No. Not since you guys started working.”
I take another step and Plankton goes unnaturally still. “Don’t you dare,” I warn him, creeping closer. “Don’t you—Plankton!”
He’s off. With a speed that belies his age, he slips through the gap and heads straight for the driveway, only running faster when I chase after him.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I push my legs harder, following him to the front of the house.
He doesn’t usually do this. He’s a good dog. A grumpy dog, but a good dog. He isn’t a rule-breaker.
He’s just not used to his new life.
He had full rein of the place before work on the hotel started. And heneverran off. But with the increased traffic, we started locking him inside, and he got antsy. He doesn’t like being cooped up and lets us know this every time we don’t close the door properly.
A quick glance up and down the road shows it’s still empty and I race across it, only vaguely aware of Callum overtaking me as I launch myself into the dense shade of the forest on the other side.
“Plankton!” I yell, as I catch a glimpse of him through the trees. “You get back here right now, or so help me God you aren’t getting any more table scraps for the rest of your life. You won’t even— don’tmove.”
I screech the last two words at Callum, who immediately stops. Unfortunately, the speed he was moving at coupled with the wet earth of the forest floor, coupled with the universehatingme, does nothing to help him with this. His arms shoot out as he tries to regain his balance, and I, of course, run straight into him.
We go down.
We go down hard.
My feet slide forward, and my ass hits the ground in a way I know is going to hurt tomorrow. Callum lands half on top of me, twisting at the last second so I don’t get crushed, but that just means he pushes himself farther into the sludge until we’re both covered in it.
I don’t so much as breathe for a long second, staring up at the canopy above me, and wondering what it would be like to simply abandon all my responsibilities and lie here forever, never to be embarrassed again.
“You dead?” Callum asks.
“No.” I wince, digging out a small rock from where it’s sticking into my back. “You?”
“No. And I don’t mean to be rude,” he adds. “But what the hell?”
