Page 69 of Wag More Bark Less

I’d forgotten about the yogurt-dipped dog treat I picked up from Mountain Creamery. I also forgot Maggie had not one, but two of my flannel jackets.

“It must’ve been a good treat,” I mused, stepping next to Maggie. I resisted the urge to put my arm around her back, and lifted my phone above us. I snapped a couple of photos that I could tell weren’t great, but Maggie yanked my arm down before I could make a third attempt.

“What are those long arms good for if you can’t take a good selfie?” she teased, skimming my work. The pictures I took made Maggie look like a floating head. Ellie wasn’t in them at all. “We should stand a little closer. Act like you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I said, very aware that my breath caressed her forehead as she stepped into the curve of my arm. The urge to caress her in other places flirted with my self-control. I blamed that damned floral scent I’d never forget if I lived ten lifetimes.

“Could’ve fooled me.” She returned her attention to the picture on the screen. “You have to tilt the camera more. It’s all about the angle.”

“Trust me. I don’t have trouble with angles.”

I should take back the innuendo-laced comment, but I enjoyed the blush that instantly colored her cheeks. Fuck me. I’m in way over my head.

“Try it again,” she said, the words almost a squeak.

She pressed her side against mine, erasing any illusion of distance, and I snaked an arm around the middle of her back. The damn floral scent I’d yet to identify drifted to me once more, and I nearly forgot what I was doing until Ellie groaned.

I lifted the camera, tilting it until all three of us were fully in the frame.

“Let me see,” she said, pulling at my arm. She quickly scrolled through my latest attempts. I half hoped they were shit so I had an excuse to take a few more. “These are perfect.”

She held my phone out to me, but I couldn’t seem to stop staring at her lips. It would be a terrible thing to kiss her again before I apologized, right?

She dropped my phone into my shirt pocket and patted my chest. “You might want that.”

I reached up for her hand, but before I could stop her from pulling away, Ellie wedged herself between us, wiggling her butt dramatically until she effectively put a couple feet of space between us.

Ellie was calling me out: I hadn’t yet choked out that apology.

“I have Dad’s trail mix. And water if you’re low,” I offered, moving to a nearby picnic table where I dropped my pack to recover myself before I did something reckless.

Maggie fit comfortably at my side, and I was too fucking curious how she might fit all the way in my arms. Distance was my best ally, at least until I made things right.

She lowered onto the bench, her back against the table, keeping herself pointed toward the scenic view. She dug dog treats from her own pack and offered one to Ellie. The dog seemed unimpressed at the tiny bone-shaped treats not dipped in yogurt, and I couldn’t help but grin. I made a mental note to swing by Mountain Creamery and stock up on those homemade dog treats. They would come in handy the next time I ended up in the doghouse.

“Take as much as you want,” I said, offering the bag of trail mix to Maggie as I took a seat beside her and nibbled on a granola bar.

“I might eat it all,” she warned.

“Good thing I know where to get more.”

We sat there in silence for a stretch, both enjoying our snacks and the view that seemed more like a landscape painting than reality. I ate my granola bar as slowly as I could, but eventually the last bite was gone. I had to stop stalling. I took a long swig of water, followed by a deep inhale. Fuck, I didn’t want to talk about Raquel, or the wedding, or any of it. And yet, since everything bubbled to the surface after last night, I had the overwhelming urge to tell Maggie every sordid detail.

I settled on, “There was a wedding . . . mine.”

She glanced at me briefly before returning her gaze to the lake, propping her elbows on the back of the picnic table as though she was in no hurry.

God, this woman was something to behold. How I ever thought she was a Karen was beyond my comprehension.

“It was too soon after Mom died,” I went on. “I was trying to fill a void, and I rushed into a marriage I don’t think either of us truly wanted.”

I was so surprised that Raquel was willing to give up Hawaii for Colorado that I gave her a ring. From her note, I learned she only said yes because she was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t consider what any of it might really mean.

“I realize that now,” I said. “But back then, I was so focused on doing what I thought I was supposed to that I ignored all the warning signs.” I took another slow drink of water, and Ellie’s head settled on my thigh. I gently ran my fingers along her neck, finding the strength to push past the discomfort. “She left her wedding dress on a hanger, at the church. There was her ring. A note, too. But it was the fucking dress that got me.”

“Seeing my dress must’ve been a real shock,” Maggie said softly.

“I knew you had it,” I admitted. “I saw it stuffed in the back of your Forester that first day.”