Page 23 of Single Girl in the City
“Why does it matter?”
“Just curious. So what, you woke up this morning, looked at the list and decided, ‘Hey, I’m going for a dog walk?’”
“It’s called spontaneity. You should try it.” While she said it in a teasing tone, he could tell she was serious. And maybe she had the right to be. When was the last time he did something spontaneous?
“Here.” She held out a quarter.
“What’s this for?”
“A fun way to spend your morning.” He took the quarter and dropped it in the next expired meter. “See. Doesn’t that make you feel better?”
Yeah, it did. But he was pretty sure it wasn’t the quarter that had him smiling like an idiot, it was the do-gooder who.
“Is life one big spontaneous adventure after another for you?”
“Is that a polite way of saying I’m impulsive?” She didn’t look his way, just dropped another coin in the meter, but the hurt in her tone told him that she’d been called a lot of things in her lifetime that had left lasting scars. “It’s my way of saying I like being in your world. It’s new and exciting. To me, this and you are a mystery.”
This time she did look at him and she didn’t hold back the vulnerability. “The problem with mysteries is that once they’re solved there’s no point in digging deeper.”
She handed him another coin.
Oh, he wanted to dig deeper. He wanted to know more about her, why she was in Portland since it was clear she and her sister weren’t all that close, and where her parents were in this whole situation. He had a feeling that the first layer of Abi was hidden in her good deeds. Not the “spontaneous” ones but the ones in that journal. “What else is in your journal?”
She whipped around to stare at him, looking up at him with those big, brown, laser-sharp eyes, which were flickering with deep, deep suspicion. Or maybe it was something else. Fear. “How do you know I have a journal?”
“You dropped it in the parking lot.” It was almost as if she sighed, but her body didn’t move. “And when you were at Lauren’s party, I may have seen that your journal was a good deed list.”
She went utterly still. “Did you open it?”
One minute he was petting Pup Tart, the next he was cupping her cheek. “Never. Whatever is in that journal is your business.”
She let out a big sigh, like she’d just been told she wasn’t going to die. “Thank you. Most people would have looked or at least taken a peek.”
Once again he was left to wonder just what kind of people she had around her. Her co-workers came into Stout after work most nights, but she was never with them. In fact, the other night was the first time she’d set foot in his bar. Which brought him to her sister, who didn’t seem to be a big Abi supporter.
“I’m not most people.”
“I like that about you.” He was beginning to like a lot about her, but this was the first time she’d admitted she liked him—or at least liked that he was an honest guy, which was such a simple concept he wondered who had broken her heart so badly that her bar was set so low. “Are you even curious?”
“Hell yes! I mean, singing telegrams, dog walking, ribbed for her pleasure condoms.” He wiggled a brow at her when he said condoms and she rolled her eyes. “Sounds like good deeds to me.”
“It does, doesn’t it.” She neither confirmed nor denied and he wondered why she was being so evasive. She studied him one last time, then began walking, not giving two shits if he followed. Which he did.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and easily kept pace with her, taking one stride for her every three, which seemed to tick her off. “Are you paying off a debt?”
Her expression turned serious, and she looked away. He’d touched on a sore spot, but he couldn’t imagine what it could be. Most people would own that they were doing random acts of kindness. Then again, he was learning thatshewasn’t most people. She was friendly but closed off, an experienced listener but not a big talker, and she had this vulnerability about her that was in direct conflict with her tough as nails attitude.
“Do you need help?”
“I’ve got this,” she said as a dog yanked her forward a step and dropped into the poop position. And it wasn’t any dog, it was Littleshit, Rhett’s five-pound fashion accessory, who was dressed in a pink tracksuit and matching booties. The oversized rat dropped a bomb on the sidewalk and Abi groaned. “The grass is literally two feet from you.”
Yip, yip, yap!Fancy walked in a circle, proud of his business, then stuck his tail in the air as if flipping them both the bird.
“Why are you walking my brother’s dog?”
“He’s your brother’s? I didn’t know. Some lady signed Fancy up on my Need a Good Deed sheet. Stephanie, I think.”
“That’s his ex.”
