Page 31

I hurt her feelings, and I can fix that, but not right now. This conversation, even if it didn’t end up with plans for how we were going to proceed, is telling enough.

I riled her up; she has a crush on me, and I’m going to use that to my advantage.

The next time I get a call from or about her, she’s mine.

8

ADELINE

“Pickles! Stop walking!” Rain continues to slam into my face, my hair, already soaking my clothes that are now sticking to my skin as I continue down the two-lane road behind him. “You’re in so much trouble, mister!”

I know I’m a ways from town.

Buildings have already disappeared, and empty fields surround me as I continue to follow Pickles, who, every two seconds, looks back at me to see if I’m still crazy enough to follow him.

I am, apparently.

I told Layla I would make sure her bakery, Buttercup & Brioche, was all locked up when I saw him.

My little fur buddy.

Now, he may not know it yet, but he’s going to love me. I just want to get him out of this storm, which is quickly getting worse with each passing step.

“I have treats!” I yell at him as if that’s going to stop him this time. I’ve only been saying it for the last, at least, ten minutes. “And a home with a bed.”

But you need a bath first.

Pickles seems to pick up his pace, clearly not bought on those two things in the slightest. I should’ve already given up, but my stupid hopes that he’d eventually appease me and, at least, stop have gotten me to follow him.

Little jerk.

I tell myself that I only have a few minutes left before I have to abandon my mission and head back into town, when a truck suddenly rolls up next to me, and I jump to the side, almost falling into a ditch to my right.

I hadn’t heard it since the rain pouring down is so loud, and I’ve been hyper-focused on Pickles.

Palm on my heart, I stop, and that’s when I see a body round the headlights of the vehicle and head straight toward me.

Panic strikes me for a moment before I see the round-brimmed hat and the uniform.

“Dodger—”

“Woman,” he barks out, instant anger dripping from his tone, and it immediately seeps through my veins over the rain. “Ya either got a death wish for walkin’ in the middle of the road where ya can only see two feet in front of ya, or ya wanted to see me. Which one is it?”

Neither.

I mean, I want to see him. I don’t have a death wish, though. But I steal a glance at Pickles to explain, and I don’t see him.

“Crap,” I blurt out, rounding Dodger’s frame, and start to sprint through the sheet of aggressive rain when fingers clutch my arm right above my elbow, and I’m forced to stop mid-stride.

“Where the hell do ya think you’re going?” he grinds out. “Get in my truck. Now.”

“I need⁠—”

“To get in my damn truck,” he interrupts, gently pulling me to the passenger side. “Ya could’ve been killed out here, Adeline. What in the hell is your prob⁠—”

“Pickles,” I explain desperately, pointing down the road in his direction. “He’s out there. I need to get him.”

Dodger stops, turns me to face him, and doesn’t appear a bit bothered that I just said a stray was doing exactly what I was doing.