A Thankful Heart (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 2) Page 9
But what were the odds she’d have to make that choice?
Slim to none, she’d guess.
That bummed her out.
A part of her wanted to be asked her out, even though she knew wishes—especially hers—didn’t always match up with reality. Still, she would do this for herself and for Kelly.
Under the table, she crossed the fingers on her left hand. She raised her glass in her right hand as if making a toast. “Okay, I promise.”
Chapter Seven
Later that night, Bryce sat in the kitchen with Dakota across the table from him. His dad had gone to bed an hour ago. Which was a good thing because they had a lot of work to do.
Bryce’s laptop was open with the revised proposal on the screen. Print copies of the pages lay between them. Some had been proofed. Others still needed to be.
He should be focused on the changes they’d been making for the past forty minutes, but he was more interested in Dakota.
As she looked over one of the pages, her face was a portrait in concentration. Her gaze narrowed, and her lips moved as she silently read to herself.
He’d been thinking about the way she’d kissed him the other night. If Rascal hadn’t barked, would she have kept kissing him? He liked to think so because he wouldn’t have stopped. His curiosity about her plans to go out after work tonight—ones she hadn’t wanted to change—was also growing. “We’re making good progress.”
“Thanks for meeting so late.”
“No problem.” He twirled his pen with his fingers. “Did you have fun earlier?”
She nodded.
Bryce picked up a piece of paper but didn’t read any of the words. “Where did you go?”
“Grey’s Saloon.”
His dad had mentioned the bar on Main Street. “Was it crowded?”
“No, not for a Thursday night. A few new faces, but mostly regulars were there.”
Was she a regular? Not that it mattered, but he wanted to know. She didn’t act like she’d been drinking or seem the type to pick up guys in bars. Maybe there was a side to her he hadn’t seen. “Is that where you hang out?”
“Sometimes.”
“I heard it’s the happening place in town.”
“Somedays. You should go.”
It didn’t sound like he’d be going with her. Surprisingly, that bothered him, though he wasn’t sure why. He enjoyed spending time with Dakota, but he wasn’t looking for a date. “I’ll check it out before I leave.”
She gave him the once over. “Do, but you might feel more comfortable at the Graff Hotel. That place draws a more dressed-up crowd.”
He glanced down at his button-down shirt, sweater, and khakis. “I’m not dressed up.”
Amusement filled her gaze. “For Marietta you are.”
Bryce wondered if that comment meant she preferred cowboys. Men in faded jeans and boots.
She reached across the table with a piece of paper in her hand. “What do you think about the changes to the foster program fundraising section?”
Dakota was changing the subject. Still, Bryce read the section.
“Much clearer. Good job, except…” He crossed out a word and wrote a different one. “This word should be capital, not capitol. I mix them up all the time myself, and it’s something spellcheck won’t mark.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without spellcheck.” She flushed. “I struggle a bit with the written word.”
“When was the last time you wrote anything like this?”
“College.” She folded the corner of one of the pages. “Not a big fan of term papers or reading. I prefer audio books.”
“Those are great for the car or gym.”
Nodding, she opened her mouth and then closed it.
“The only reading I have time for these days is on my cell phone.”
She looked down at a piece of paper before looking back at him.
Something was going on. “Anything wrong?”
“There’s a reason I needed your help with the proposal. I, um, found out my freshman year that I had…have…a learning disability.” The way she averted her gaze from his told Bryce saying these words wasn’t easy for her. “Knowing why I had trouble helped, but I still get frustrated at times. Not a lot of people know, and I…I really appreciate your help with this today.”
He hadn’t expected her to tell him. His respect grew, and he felt…honored that she’d trusted him with the information. “The original version of your proposal was good.”
“Lori called it simplistic.”
Bryce heard the hurt in the words. He touched the top of Dakota’s hand. “No, it was short and to the point. Nothing wrong with that. Except…when you’re asking for money to fund a project, the less-is-more approach doesn’t always work.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” Her features relaxed.
“Plan on doing more of these?”
She shrugged. “I do what I’m asked.”
“Even if it’s hard?”
She nodded. “But finding animals homes is important.”
“I’m happy you’re pleased with the revised proposal.”
“Thrilled,” she admitted, and her sincere tone made him sit taller. “I hope you know your help with the Home for Thanksgiving program will make a big difference to the animals at Whiskers and Paw Pals.”
“Thanks, but don’t tell my dad. I fear he’s already trying to convert me into an animal rescuer.”
“I won’t.” She laughed. “My great aunt took pride in indoctrinating me. That was the word she used, too. Her dream was to start an animal rescue. I wanted that, too, but she was getting too old, and I didn’t feel I had the skills on my own.”
Bryce pointed to the pages they’d been reviewing. “You have the knowledge. Based on what my dad says, the skills, too.”
She shrugged. “Skills might be the wrong word. More like confidence.”
“That will come.” Bryce realized he was still touching her. He drew back his hand. “Maybe you just need a little push in that direction.”
“I don’t know about that. As long as Lori keeps Whiskers and Paw Pals going, there isn’t a need for yet another rescue in town.”
“That sounds like an excuse.”
“A practical one, maybe.” She grinned and then picked up another page. “We’d better get busy or we’ll be here all night.”
She was right, but that didn’t sound like a bad option to him.
Until he remembered his dad.
Bryce wasn’t here to date a pretty woman from a small town. He was here to help his father recover and convince him to move to Seattle. If that included helping the animal rescue and Dakota, so be it. But that was where his involvement with the woman across the table and the animals she loved needed to end.
He had to stay focused on the end goal.
Prying Walt Grayson away from Marietta wasn’t going to be easy. Dad didn’t want to discuss moving at all. Too bad. It was going to happen after Thanksgiving.
Bryce would find a way. No matter what it took.
*
The alarm rang, and, for once, Dakota didn’t hit snooze. She didn’t need the extra sleep this morning.
A first.
By the time she’d gotten home from Walt’s and taken care of the animals last night, she’d been yawning as she walked up the stairs. A quick change into jammies, and she’d had no difficulty falling asleep. No tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. No waking up in the middle of the night with a million thoughts on her mind.
Not normal for her.
But she hoped this was the first of many nights like that.
She crawled out of bed.
With the rescue closed, she would swing by Lori’s place and then drive to Bozeman. She needed to visit Maverick, the sweet Border collie, and buy what she needed for this weekend’s adoption event. She’d be back in time to set up the area inside the feed store.
Her cell phone beeped.
She grabbed it fr
om the nightstand.
Kelly: How did last night go?
Dakota: Great. The revised proposal is even better now.
Kelly: I meant with Bryce.
Dakota: We worked.
Kelly: Nothing else?
Dakota: Nope.
Kelly: Bummer.
Dakota: I told you he’s not interested.
Kelly: His loss.
Kelly: BTW, that cowboy alone at the bar asked me out after you left. I said yes.
Dakota: Happy you’re taking your own advice.
Kelly: Knew you would say that.
Kelly: TTYL. Zumba class to teach.
His loss. Kelly was too much, but that was what friends were for. Dakota hoped her best friend had fun with that cowboy.
Dakota had enjoyed working with Bryce yesterday. He didn’t make her feel like she took too much time or made too many mistakes. She hadn’t planned to tell him about her learning disability, but the words had just come out.
She hoped she didn’t regret that.
But then again, he was leaving after Thanksgiving. And she hoped people wouldn’t care if they found out about her reading issue.
Her phone beeped again.
Bryce: Is it ready to go?
Dakota: Yes! Dropping off this morning.
Dakota: Thanks again.
Bryce: Anytime. Have a good day.
She only wished he meant that. Not about her day. She tried to make each one good, but about his helping her anytime.
She’d liked sitting with him at the kitchen table. The back and forth. The splitting tasks. The way he touched her hand.
Was her heart already lonely? Kelly seemed to think Dakota was headed in that direction.
She didn’t know, but last night, she’d felt a sense of teamwork and contentment with Bryce. She hadn’t felt that way with any guy she’d dated, including Craig.
Maybe she was closer to wanting to date again?
But that part of her had been shut off for so long, would a man want to go out with her?
She stared at her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her face paler than normal.
Would Bryce?
The thought made her heart beat too fast. She turned away from the mirror. Not going there. Casual, remember? The heart wasn’t allowed to be involved at all.
*
Friday after lunch, Bryce sat in the waiting room of his father’s physician. Nothing serious, a routine follow-up visit for his dad, but the lighting and smells reminded Bryce of his mom’s time in the hospital and her final day at home on hospice.
She’d talked about taking a vacation that upcoming Thanksgiving. They could meet in the middle of the US, Chicago maybe. She’d also wanted him to come home for Christmas, too. Something he hadn’t done in years. She’d offered to have her and Dad fly to Seattle if that would be easier. But her dream of the three of them finally spending a holiday together had died with her.
Bryce crossed and the uncrossed his legs. That didn’t help him feel more comfortable.
He rose and poured himself a cup of coffee. That might quench his thirst and stop the ache in his throat.
He took a sip of the hot liquid. Better.
Sitting down on the same chair, he stared at the pile of magazines on his left. Not one had kept his attention. He didn’t care what couple was breaking up or if two movie stars wore the same dress to an event.
He pulled out his cell phone, scanned his inbox, read an email from the contractor who’d been picked to repair the water damage at the rescue, and texted with his assistant in Seattle.
He’d worked on Dakota’s proposal yesterday, not his own. He needed to make sure he didn’t fall behind his schedule. If he were awarded this contract, his design firm would rise in the ranks.
Bryce wanted that. Badly.
A ballad played from hidden speakers. The lyrics spoke about slow kisses, dancing beneath the moonlight, and love lost and found.
The song reminded him of Dakota.
Stop.
Her revised proposal had been turned in. She no longer needed his help. He had to stopping thinking about her.
Nothing could interfere with his plans for his dad. Not even a caring woman who put everyone else first whether they had two legs or four, made him laugh, and kissed like a dream.
A nurse pushed his father in the wheelchair. “He’s ready to go.”
“Told you it wouldn’t take long.” His father was talking to Bryce, but he was smiling at the pretty nurse with dark hair and brown eyes. “Doc Gallagher says I’m doing well.”
“You’ll have to start doing more around the house then.”
His dad shook his head. “Exactly as I’ve been saying.”
Less than ten minutes later, he had his dad situated in the wheelchair accessible van they’d rented. “Let’s get you home.”
“The sooner, the better,” his father said from the backseat. “I’ve got friends coming over to visit.”
“You’ve turned into Mr. Social. You always have friends stopping by. Or your construction crew.”
“Ted likes to keep me updated on the jobs.”
“And eat chocolate.”
“That too.”
“You were never like this in Philadelphia.”
“Your mom would have liked to have more of a community.” His dad sounded wistful. “But I worked too much.”
“She could have done it herself.”
“Not without a push from me, and once I got home, I didn’t want to go out or have to deal with other people.”
Bryce didn’t remember his dad being that way. He always showed up at games and school functions. Maybe he meant social events. “And now?”
“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”
“You could do the same in Seattle.”
His father covered his ears like a kid. “I’m not listening.”
Bryce tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He’d bring this up again later.
“After my friends arrive, I need you to run to the feed store.”
That was odd. “Why the feed store? You don’t have animals.”
“They sell more than food. I want you to buy a pair of heavy-duty work socks.”
What was going on? Bryce glanced in the rearview mirror. “Did Dr. Gallagher give you pain meds?”
“Nope. Don’t need them. Chocolate is the best medicine.”
Maybe there wasn’t something in the town water supply, but in the chocolate. “Uh, Dad… you have casts on both your legs. You can’t wear socks.”
Dad grinned. “The socks are for you. Ted thought you might want to tour the job sites and report back. You’ll need more than your city-slicker dress socks you wear with those fancy I-talian leather shoes.”
His father made him sound like a fashionista. Bryce wasn’t. He dressed like everyone else he knew. But he had packed work items just in case. “I brought other socks. For my boots.”
“Trust me, you need new ones,” his father urged. “Humor an old man.”
Now that was funny given past conversations. “Old man?”
“Figure of speech to elicit sympathy. Did it work?”
He loved his dad, but, as his mother used to say, the man sure knew how to push his buttons. “I haven’t decided.”
Another glance in the mirror showed the hard set of his father’s jaw—a telltale sign of his stubbornness about to set in. If that happened, the rest of the day would go downhill fast.
“Make up your mind,” his dad said.
“I’ll buy a pair of socks.”
A smug smiled settled on his dad’s face. “Excellent decision. I’ll pay for them.”
“I’ve got my own money.”
“Suit yourself. And there’s no need for you to rush back home.”
His dad was acting strange. Maybe he had an ulterior motive for wanting him to go to the shop. “Are you trying to get rid of me? Are friends coming over or a special one?”
&
nbsp; “Friends. Plural. I just hate to see you stuck at home all the time.”
This place wasn’t Bryce’s home. “I’m here to help you.”
“Then help me by going to the feed store.”
At least his father hadn’t wanted Bryce to go back to the chocolate shop. He didn’t want to seem like a stalker or for Dakota to think he was interested in her.
Yes, he was attracted, but that was as far as he could let it go.
*
Inside the feed store, Dakota checked on Rascal and Scout in their portable crates. The two dogs stared at her with love and trust. The same way they’d done when she’d put them in hard sided crates to drive to Bozeman and when she’d arrived here.
“This won’t take me too long to set up,” she said to them. “Once I finish, we’ll go for a long walk.”
Rascal’s mouth hung open in what she called his smile.
Scout walked in a small circle, as if trying to catch his tail, until he lay in the crate all curled up and comfy.
She studied the area that Tim, the feed store’s owner, had cleared for the event. People could shop and see the animal at the same time. A win-win. And much better than having an event outside this time of year. Tim had adopted a dog from Whiskers and Paw Pals and had become a big rescue supporter after that. This wasn’t the first event they’d held here, but this two-day adoption drive would have more animals than usual since so many were being temporarily housed elsewhere.
“Better get started.”
Rascal’s tail wagged faster.
“You’ve been so good today, but you should rest up for your walk like Scout.”
The dog remained on all fours.
“Okay, watch if you like, but you’ll be tired later.”
She setup the first folding table. “Brochures and info sheets can go here.”
Rascal continued to watch her. Scout’s eyes had closed. The excitement of visiting Janie O’Brien’s rescue in Bozeman had worn out the little dog.
Would these two get adopted tomorrow?
A steel clamp gripped Dakota’s heart and squeezed.
If that happened, it would just be her and Pierre.
She forced herself to breathe.
No problem. She’d been through this before. More times than she could count. Adoptions were a bittersweet moment, but she knew to be happier for the dog and their family than sad for herself.