Page 25 of Ablaze

I smile back at him, feeling warm inside my chest. “Thanks. It’s been an incredible learning experience, that’s for sure.”

Garrett leans toward me. “It’s a really unique concept, actually. I don’t think I know of another café of the sort in our area–one that caters to both dogs and their owners. Did you always know you were going to build a business like it?”

I shake my head. It’s a question I’ve been asked often by both customers and friends. “The café was inspired by my love for both animals and baking, but my dream job in college was to work for Doggone Happy and Healthy–the organic dog food company,” I clarify. “I’d fallen in love with their mission, and I’d heard great things about their work culture. I’d applied a few times even after graduation, but never heard anything back.”

“You should apply again,” Sonia adds. “Who knows, you might get something now that you have experience.”

An oblivious third person listening in might think Sonia was giving me good advice–telling me not to give up on my dreams. But from the little I’ve interacted with her, she doesn’t seem to be the most well-intentioned.

And while a huge part of me still wonders what it would have been like to work for one of my dream companies, I shrug, giving her a polite smile. “I’m pretty happy with running the café for the time being.”

“And she’s doing a hell of a job of it,” Dean adds, addressing Sonia, before scooting his chair back. “Ready to warm up that dartboard, sprinkles?” He tosses me a wink. I get the feeling he also wants to pull me away from any additional conversations with his sister-in-law.

I nod, getting out of my chair before heading to the kitchen to put my plate in the sink. Apparently, Darian and Marvin are on dish duty today, so the rest of us grab drinks and head to the game room, where there’s both a pool table and a dartboard set up.

For the next half hour, Dean, Garrett, and I throw darts, laughing and talking shit to each other, while Karine lays back on the couch, cheering us on with a huge smile. I can’t help but like her. She’s not only the most caring and supportive mother, but completely smitten with her kids. And while I miss my own mother every single day, the pain seems to ebb whenever I’m around Karine.

I’m leaning against Dean on the other sofa, watching Garrett try to perfect his dart throwing skills when Dean’s phone chimes with an incoming message. I try not to stiffen at the name Jane on the screen. Who he texts and sees is none of my business. Why should it bother me? We’re just friends . . . we’ve established that we’re just friends.

He types out a response, I’ll stop by tomorrow, before turning off his screen and I nudge him with my shoulder.

“So, Jane, huh?” I wiggle my brows but don’t quite feel the playfulness I’m going for.

He shakes his head, keeping his expression tight. “It’s not what you think.”

I shrug. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

There’s a pause between us while we both watch Garrett throw another dart before Dean flips his phone in his hands.

It almost seems like his comment is directed to his phone with the way his eyes are glued to it, but I know he’s speaking to me. “It always matters what you think.”

As soon as Darian and Marvin finish up in the kitchen, Sonia begs Darian to leave, making up an excuse of needing to be somewhere early in the morning. And though they plan to be back the next day to spend the rest of Christmas with the family, I can’t help but notice how the twins eye each other with a frown, hating not being able to spend more time with their brother.

Hours after we’ve played a thousand rounds of darts, giggled, and eaten copious amounts of dessert, I’m looking through a few selfies of Dean and me from the evening on my phone in bed when it vibrates with an incoming text.

Sparky: You seriously suck at darts.

I smile, rolling my eyes as I turn on my side, sending him a response.

Me: It’s fine. I’m better at everything else compared to you, so I can live with that.

His text comes back seconds later, and I imagine him scoffing in the bedroom above mine.

Sparky: You realize darts are supposed to be aimed at the dartboard . . . not the ceiling, right?

Me: That was a one-off! I told you, I was getting ready to throw the dart at the board when that loud bang came from the kitchen and it made me jump.

Sparky: And somehow, the dart ended up in the ceiling? I swear, I had second-hand embarrassment for you.

I laugh, typing back my response. If he were here, he’d get a solid punch to his bicep.

Me: Shuddup. I hate you.

Sparky: Liar.

I bite my lip, reading his last message. I am a liar. Because the last thing I feel toward this man–a man who is relentless and bossy, goofy and annoying, perceptive and thoughtful–is hate.

He owed me nothing and could have taken me at my word when I told him I was perfectly fine spending Christmas alone. But he didn’t. Instead, he called my bluff and forced me to come hang out with his family–a family that made me feel like I was an extension of them, welcoming me with open arms. For the first time in years, they made me miss the things I’ve missed just a little less.

---