“You’re definitely a dog person. I’m not sure who’s manipulating who,” said Ethan with a laugh. It felt wonderful to see the dog showing signs of life.
It felt wonderful that Carrie understood how worried he was about his dog. It felt wonderful to see her again. To be with her.
To kiss her.
“Do you want it?” Carrie held a slice in her hand.
Gun barked, one gentle woof.
“Okay.” She balled up the slice and held it out to him on the palm of her hand. He picked it off with unexpected delicacy, then licked his lips and stared at her.
“Now you’ve done it,” said Ethan. “Give me the rest. I’ll mix it with his kibble and with any luck, he’ll get a proper meal out of the deal.”
He settled the dog back to his spot on the blanket, so he and Carrie could eat uninterrupted. Gun accepted his demotion with good grace, sniffed the bowl Ethan handed him and then proceeded to eat it all.
“That’s the most appetite he’s shown since it happened,” said Ethan. “I don’t know if it’s the beef, or your company.”
She looked at him with mock outrage. “My company, of course.”
He smiled, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Of course.”
They ate their lunch in companionable, easy-going conversation. It felt so right between them.
When they were finished, Carrie gathered their trash.
“Time to get the patient back for his therapy,” said Ethan.
“I’d say I should get back to work,” said Carrie, brushing crumbs off her skirt, “but I’m free as a bird.”
She spoke lightly, but there was an undercurrent that answered his questions about her business.
“I’m sorry, Carrie.”
She shrugged. “Actually, I met with a potential new client recently.”
Something about the way she said it made him look up.
“A client?” he said. “You mean, like your other work?”
Her face split into a grin. “Uh-huh. Is this a huge mistake, Ethan? I’m so excited about it. But that’ll be it for me with the school board. I don’t know what to think.”
This was the opening he’d been dreading. Quickly, he sketched out what he’d learned from Don Ackerman. But she simply shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter anymore how or when it happened or who started it. Maybe I just need to accept that. It’s all out in the open. Those who judge will judge. The rest, I guess, are my friends. I only wish…”
She trailed off and he knew what she couldn’t say. She only wished that the judgment wasn’t coming from her family.
“You’re so brave, Carrie Logan,” he said.
She looked at him then, her eyes wide and blue and trusting. “Thank you. You are too, you know.”
He chuckled. “I’m a man. Of course I’m brave.”
She punched his arm, lightly, then pulled back her arm at Gun’s worried look.
“Just kidding, Gunny-Sack,” she said. “Any more trouble with Animal Control?”
“No, but Carrie,” he said, determined to get it all out on the table. “Someone told me that the old farmhouse I tore down before I built my house had sentimental value to your grandfather. Is that true?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Not that I’ve ever heard. Who said that?”
“Mrs. Terlecki, at the high school. She also said that the mayor had plans to buy the land for some sort of heritage site, a boost to tourism or something like that.”
“That would explain why he’s got it out for you, I guess,” she said. She looked down, then touched his arm. “Listen Ethan, since we’re sharing, I feel so bad that I haven’t held up my share of the deal. You’ve done all this work on my website, which looks fantastic, by the way, and I’ve done nothing in return.”
“Carrie,” he started.
“No. Let me finish. I’ve got an idea. The cherry festival dance is coming up. We’ll go together. Like a date. Or not. Whichever you prefer.”
“A date.”
Color tinged her cheeks and he wanted nothing more than to kiss those spots.
“Or not. It’s your PR, you decide.”