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“And you already know Rico’s my neighbor. And my dog sitter.”

“He’s not a daddy, you know.” I wasn’t sure what Galan was trying to open up in the conversation—if he was wondering if I was interested or telling me that he had something in common with him.

“I know. Sometimes he seems like one, though. One thing he is, is the best dog sitter. Want to see?”

Then I took out my phone and showed him picture after picture of my dog, sharing stories that he probably didn’t care about. But he listened intently and laughed in all the right places.

When I had walked in, I’d been so giddy and nervous and worried and excited. Now, it was like I was hanging out with someone I had known for a long time. Yes, there was attraction. Yes, I was hoping for more. But there was also comfort.

He listened when I spoke. He asked questions. He answered questions. He didn’t make me feel like I was silly for the different stories I told about my dog or the diamond art I made of random cuteness and even told me how much he loved the diamond art I made for him. But best of all, he wasn’t showing off. He wasn’t trying to impress me. I could tell he had a very powerful position at work, but he didn’t use that as an I’m better than you thing like so many men did. He was just being himself.

It felt like the best first date ever, and I hoped he saw it as that too and not just the thank-you dinner we claimed it to be.

The bill came, and the server put it between us. We both reached for it, but I was faster.

“This is a thank-you. Let me…”

And he did. It could’ve gone either way, especially with a daddy. I appreciated him giving in. This was important to me.

We walked out of the restaurant together. I told him, “I really had a great time.”

“I did too.”

I wanted a good-night kiss. I wanted it so badly, I nearly lost my footing. But as brave as I was to have this dinner, I wasn’t that brave.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said. “For a date.”

“I’d like that too.”

Some people pushed past us, and we moved to the side.

“I think we’re in the way,” I said. “We should probably go.” It wasn’t like we could have a second date on the sidewalk, and it was best to end on a high note.

Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead. It was sweet and gentle and affectionate, but it didn’t push past any boundaries we hadn’t discussed. Most people would see that as a bad ending to the night—an almost kiss. Like all dates should end between sheets or at least with a full-on kiss with tongue. But they were wrong. This was the exact ending it needed.

Chapter Nine

Galan

Our incredible evening ended with a sweet forehead kiss.

A date with a man who I’d seen at Chained and admired from a distance but told myself I was in no position to approach. As a little, he was adorable, but our evening showed me another side of him. I’d enjoyed getting to know his big side and looked forward to spending more time together.

I wanted to make it special, though, and since he seemed to be the one man who traveled almost as much as I did, it should be something local.

Carrying a load of laundry out to the washer in the garage, my gaze landed on my bicycle hanging on the wall. Still dusty, still neglected. Its position on the wall right next to where I usually parked was a constant reminder of the things I denied myself. Like a person to share my life with?

It was too soon to call this a relationship, but I already knew that it was time to consider the difference between working to support my life and just getting lost in the job and having no life whatsoever. I set the laundry on top of the washer and approached my bike. Lifting it off the wall, I set it down on the floor and looked it over. It needed some tuning up, and of course dusting, but overall, it didn’t seem to have suffered much for my neglect. After giving it a friendly pat, I knew what I wanted to do with Lake for a second date. We both enjoyed riding, and he loved his dog and hated leaving him home alone when he didn’t have to. So, the ideal date would be one in which we could ride bicycles together and also include his dog.

YouTube to the rescue. I’d had a vague idea about a basket on the front or the back of his bicycle, but the pet people on social media were pretty negative on that topic, saying it was not stable enough and dogs often jumped out and could get hurt or lost. And leashing them to the basket was definitely not a great idea because if the person went down, the animal had no way to escape and could also get hurt.

A trip to the bike shop and a chat with the owner led me to consider getting a trailer or, even better, making one. He could have sold me something, but he was also an aficionado of creating things yourself and showed me pictures of the one he’d built for his dog. “You don’t have to buy one of these, but I’d appreciate it if you’d subscribe to my channel and maybe use my vid on how to do it, for inspiration?”

By the time I left, he’d booked me as a guest on his channel to talk about my love of restoring old bicycles and saving them from the trash heap. His channel was the bomb, and the only thing that stopped me from watching all the videos was the fact that I wanted to get started on the trailer. I located the series with the build and watched those then printed out the helpful materials list, made some changes to it to suit the size of the pup in question and style I thought would go with Lake’s bicycle, and made an estimate on how long it would take me to do it. This time, I wasn’t going to be able to take time off, so it had to fit in between work hours, dates with Lake, and sleeping.

My garage once again became my workshop, and my car had to be parked in the driveway as I had when fixing up Lake’s bike. It was so much fun, and once I had the trailer well on the way, I sent an invitation to Lake and a separate one to Dog.

Lake’s read: