Home Is Where Your Bark Is

Chapter 14

When Seven proved too wary to approach, Jake pulled a tennis ball from the backpack he’d packed and bounced it on the floor. A smile lit his face at the way Seven’s tail instantly relaxed and his ears pricked forward in interest. Underneath that aloof exterior was a dog who wanted to play. “Come on, Seven. Trust me. This is going to be fun. Promise.”

Before sunrise this morning, they’d gone for a three-mile walk/jog combo—jogging three or four blocks, then walking one during which Seven got to sniff and explore to his heart’s content before they took off at a jog again. By the end, Seven had not only gotten the hang of the routine, but he even seemed to like it. As for Jake, while he’d expected to miss his typical morning routine at the gym, the time outside with a dog by his side had been refreshing.

For the last few hours, Seven had been surprisingly well behaved, chewing on a variety of synthetic and natural bones and antlers and occasionally pacing a few circles around the front room but allowing Jake to get in some focused work. Maybe it was a Saturday, but all the prep for next week’s court case still awaited him, and he’d taken most of the day off yesterday. Now, it was nearing noon, and Jake needed to get Seven out again before two back-to-back virtual meetings this afternoon.

The dog’s sharp gaze locked on the ball Jake was bouncing, but he refrained from dashing in to capture it like he had yesterday. “A couple steps forward, one step back. That’s okay, bud.” Putting the ball away and opening the door a few inches as an enticement, Jake sank down to his heels and held the leash in plain view. “You know you want to go outside. No sense pretending you don’t.”

Five feet away, Seven sank down and stretched low on the floor with a soft whine as he watched Jake intently, his tail flicking back and forth. It took a minute for Jake to notice the way the dog’s bright-chocolate gaze occasionally flicked toward the backpack, and he’d lick his lips nervously after doing so. “Is it the backpack, bud? Think there’s something in it that might get you? I promise it’s full of things you’re going to love.”

Jake carried it out of sight into the kitchen. As he did, Seven made a dash for the cracked-open door, nudging it open with his nose. Jake lunged for his collar just as the door swung open. Seven’s terrified yelp as Jake grabbed hold had his heart sinking to his toes. “Seven, I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.”

While he intended to refrain from touching the dog until he’d earned his trust, after Jake clipped on the leash, he rubbed the top of Seven’s head between ears that instantly tamped downward. “Is this really so bad? It’s what we humans call a bit of affection. It’s my hope that you’ll come to see its merits.”

Judging by Seven’s look—which reminded Jake of Ruby’s look of resigned consent whenever he’d given her a bath—that would be a long time coming. “There. All done.”

Jake circled back for the backpack and offered it out in Seven’s direction. Tail lifting in alarm, Seven took a tentative sniff before scooting back to the full reach of the leash. “I’ve got nothing but Frisbees, balls, treats, and water in here for you, bud. You’ll see.”

As soon as they were outside, Seven seemed to forget about the backpack slung over Jake’s shoulder as he sniffed and scoped out his surroundings for something to chase. Jake pulled out his phone to text Jenna that they were on their way, then settled in for the mile-and-a-half walk mostly along California Avenue. A cold front was expected to roll in later, but for now, the weather was mild, the sky was bright blue pocked with puffy gray clouds, and the walk was enjoyable.

Seven’s leash manners were better than Jake would’ve expected for a dog with his history, which basically meant he didn’t pull every single second. Really, he only pulled when he spotted a rabbit in the grass or a squirrel or bird in a tree. Other dogs on the opposite side of the sidewalk proved to be of minimal interest, as did people and cars.

Hearing his phone beep with a new text, Jake slipped it from his pocket. It was Jenna.

Perfect. I’m out in the shed. See you soon.

The timing of it was decidedly less than ideal, but Jake couldn’t deny how much he was looking forward to seeing her again today. Downtime between relationships—and a sufficient amount of it—was his cardinal rule, but a voice inside his head argued that this was different. He hadn’t gone looking for her. Even so, their worlds had collided hard enough that it was as if he was setting off on an entirely new orbit, high-maintenance border collie in tow. And it was an orbit that every single part of his being told him should have a Jenna in it too.

The ever-logical, left-brained lawyer in him clung to the possibility that, once the last of the adrenaline from the accident wore off, she’d lose some of her appeal, but that certainly hadn’t proven to be the case yesterday when he’d been standing out in the yard with her, her hand locked in his. His whole body had hummed with the same kind of electricity that guided him through closing arguments the few and far between times he ended up in a courtroom, reading the energy on the faces of the jury rather than following a pre-rehearsed script. Trust this , it promised.

While lying awake last night, he’d decided to give himself a pass on this cardinal rule of his. He’d keep sex off the table, but he was going to let himself get to know her. And he hoped she felt the same way.

Along the walk, Jake was encouraged to spy Seven glancing up at him occasionally. Who ever said the dog was untrainable?

When they made it to the alley behind Jenna’s, Seven began to prance ahead at the far end of his leash, his mouth gaping open in a pant. “Clearly nothing’s wrong with your memory.” The back privacy gate had already been unlocked and was resting slightly ajar, so Jake headed in. The yard was empty, but the storm door to the shed was propped open. “Hey, hey, we’re here.”

Jenna appeared in the doorway of the garden shed, a smile lighting her face. “Hey there. Glad you made it. How was last night with him?”

She was in jeans and a snug hoodie that hugged her hips, and on her feet were a pair of garden clogs with bright flowers. She’d donned a pair of gloves and had a small, leafy plant cupped in one hand. Unexpectedly, the sight of her reminded Jake of the last time he’d been at his parents’ weekend cabin in northern Wisconsin, sitting by the lake barefoot with no cell reception and not a thing to do and realizing that he was as happy as he’d been in a very long time.

“No accidents and nothing was devoured,” he said with a grin, “so I’d call it a win.”

“I was hoping he’d give you an easy night.”

After shutting the gate behind him, Jake asked Seven to sit. Once he’d repeated the command a few times, accompanying it with a closed fist, Seven reluctantly sank to his haunches. He flattened his ears and licked his lips nervously as if bracing for another petting.

When Jake unhooked his leash, Seven dashed off at a sprint, circling the yard twice before slowing to a trot to sniff here and there along the edges of the privacy fence. “You know, I think he’d move just that fast if he was able to slip out the front door of my building.”

Leaving the bag and leash on the grass, Jake headed over to the garden shed and stopped a few feet from where Jenna was leaning against the frame of the door. Her thick brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail that covered her stitches. Were it not for the slight bruise leaking out from her hairline onto her temple and the hint of dark circles under her eyes that hadn’t been there the night of the accident, she wouldn’t look like someone who’d so recently taken a hit to the head.

“I’d like to think he knows you’re doing a good thing for him.”

“Me too, but I’m skeptical. I picked up a cozy dog bed for him yesterday—memory foam and all—but he hasn’t done more than sniff it yet. Last night, he slept on the hardwood in the hallway, just outside my bedroom door. I swear, every time I woke up and looked his way, he had one eye open watching me.”

Jenna laughed. “If it helps any, my sister and her husband had a trainer come to the house a couple times. They were told his inability to relax is half his problem. It did seem like he calmed down some while he was with them, just not a ton.”

“Well, I can’t say I know what I’m doing, but I’m pretty stubborn, and I’m determined to wear him down.”

Jenna’s answering smile lit her eyes. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever known a dog who deserves it more. I’m pulling for you.”

“I appreciate that. I put a call into the shelter in St. Louis where he was returned several times before he ended up in Chicago. The trainer who worked with him is supposed to give me a call. I’m hoping at the very least to get a handle on what happened to him.”

“That’s a great idea.” Jenna brushed a gloved hand across her forehead, leaving behind a thin trail of potting soil. Before he realized he was going to do it, Jake swept it away with the base of his thumb.

“So, how about you?” He returned his hand to his side, clenching his fist as a flush warmed her cheeks. “How’s your head today?”

“Much better than yesterday, thanks. Staying off screens is helping. So are a lot more z’s than I typically get.”

“Good. Very good.”

Jake wondered if she was thinking about the dinner invitation he’d mentioned last night. Rather than broach it her with it first thing, he nodded toward the inside of the shed. “I take it you’re potting new plants today.”

“Yeah, for next Saturday’s market on Milwaukee. It’s the first one of the season. I’ll miss the truck, but my sister promised to take me. There’s a playground nearby that the boys love.”

“Good that you won’t miss it. You know what’s funny? Now that you mention it, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen your booth before. I typically swing by that market every few weeks to buy fresh herbs and veggies. Though before meeting you, my interest in plants was limited to edible ones.”

Jenna smiled. “It’s a start, at least.”

He nodded toward the plant with vibrant lime-and-dark-green-striped leaves in her hand. “What’s this one?”

“Gorgeous, isn’t it? It’s a lemon lime maranta. People call them prayer plants because their leaves fold up at night.”

Jake’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh yeah. I thought it looked familiar. My mom had one when I was a kid. Fascinating the way some plants move to follow the sun—or for the lack of it, I guess.”

“My mom had one too. She had a sunroom full of plants, actually, but her maranta was one of the ones I remember most. Its folding leaves seemed a lot more miraculous before I learned in biology class that it was just some well-timed cell division.”

Jake grinned. “But still cool. So, you and plants… You get your green thumb from your mom then?”

Her expression fell almost imperceptibly. “Sort of. Back when I was a kid, my sister and I desperately wanted a dog for Christmas one year, but we got plants instead. Once we’d proven we could keep our plants alive, a dog was supposed to be in our future.” She nodded toward Seven who was thirty feet away and growling softly at something on the other side of the fence. “My sister’s failed adoption with him was the closest either of us has gotten to that. The shelter was having a special adoption day at a pet store next door to where she was picking up a curbside order. It was love at first sight till she realized he was multiplying the chaos in her home rather than helping wear the boys down.”

“I can imagine that being the case.” He nodded toward the shed. “So, you wanting a dog but needing to know you could keep a plant alive first really was what started this?”

“Pretty much,” Jenna said with a shrug. “That was a little over three years ago now. Turns out the plant I had bought was a zebra plant, one of the hardest to keep alive indoors, and while trying to figure it out, I caught the plant bug.”

Jake motioned to Seven who was still sniffing along the fence line. “So, how come you never got the dog as a kid?”

Jenna dropped his gaze and transferred the plant from one hand to the other. “My mom got sick that February after we got the plants—Christmas cactuses. Turns out they’re like weeds and almost indestructible so long as they get the right amount of sunlight and water, but my sister and I still managed to kill them in the aftermath of her diagnosis.”

Jake winced. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been tough.”

“It was.” Jenna shifted feet. “I don’t usually tell people that.”

“If it makes a difference, I’m glad you told me.” Jake could tell by the look on her face that whatever happened with her mom hadn’t had a happy ending. Her eyes went glossy, and she blinked a few times too many for it to be a coincidence.

She lifted the plant. “I should get this in a pot, and I know you have a dog to train.”

“Sure thing. I’m here though, if you ever want to finish that story.”

Jenna stared at him hard for a second or two before saying okay, and Jake found himself thinking of how her blue-green eyes were the exact color of the shallower ocean waters he’d seen last month in Fiji.

Turning, Jake headed across the yard as Seven was beginning to dig alongside a fence post. After whistling to get the dog’s attention, Jake called out, “No digging,” and grabbed a couple tennis balls from the bag. He bounced one of them off the ground high into the air, and Seven’s head cocked sideways as he watched it rise. His ears perked forward, and that fluffy tail swished back and forth.

Catching the ball in the air, Jake bounced it again, this time higher, and Seven let out a single excited yip.

Funny, Jake realized—and also not funny—how two very different beings had entered his world at the same time, and it was turning out that both of whom seemed to require the same thing from him—trust. And Jake would be damned if he wasn’t intent on earning it.

The next time he caught the ball, he held it out a few seconds before throwing it diagonally about twenty feet or so from Seven. Sure enough, the dog took off at a sprint, dashing after the ball as it ricocheted against the fence, then catching it in his mouth, and sprinting away like he’d caught something special.

“There you go, Seven. Attaboy!”

Jake bounced the second ball and called to Seven to get his attention. Seven dipped into a play bow for a second or two before dashing to the far side of the yard with the urgency of an animal whose tail had caught fire.

In the grand scheme of things, a single play bow wasn’t much, but it was a start, and Jake would take what he could get—with the canine who was growing on him, and with the woman who, if Jake were being totally honest, had unintentionally laid claim to a piece of his heart before they’d exchanged a single word.

***

After finishing up potting a few additional plants, Jenna stepped out of the garden shed to watch Jake work with Seven. Given how the dog had avoided Stuart at all costs the whole time he’d been at his and Monica’s house, Jenna wouldn’t have expected to see this. Seven was playing with Jake, from afar, but she’d still call it playing. His mouth gaped open in what looked like a grin as he awaited the next ball, and his bushy black-and-white-tipped tail wagged back and forth like a feather duster attacking a shelf of dusty library books.

It was as if he’d realized something good could come out of humans that wasn’t limited to dinner or treats. His keen-eyed gaze was zeroed in on Jake as he bounced the ball high into the air and caught it, delaying the next distance throw by a few beats while Seven danced in place in anticipation. The ball Seven had chased after most recently was abandoned at his feet, and he showed no interest in gnawing it. For him, clearly, the reward was the chase.

“It probably goes without saying, but I’m impressed.”

Jake grinned. “I really think half the battle with him is going to be giving him the opportunity to release some of that energy.”

“I bet you’re right.”

“Can you imagine what it would feel like to run like that? Like you’re leaving gravity behind.”

Jenna shook her head. “Mmm…no, I can’t. Running and fun haven’t commingled in my vocabulary since I was like four or five, but he’s built for it, that’s for sure.”

“No running, huh? I’m betting you do something, though, because I’d have a hard time buying gardening will keep you in that good of shape.” He held up a finger, grinning. “To be clear, I meant that respectfully.”

Jenna resisted the urge to glance down at her hips and thighs as the compliment settled in. Because it was easier than admitting to herself that he’d noticed her body—the curves, muscle, and padding that helped get her everywhere she needed to go without complaint—she attempted to answer in the nonchalant way of one human who exercised talking to another. “Potting plants is no more calorie burn than a sink full of dishes, but gardening’s more work than sedentary hobbies, which is helpful. However, given my love of snacking, I’d say what’s worked most in my favor has been not having a vehicle since I left for college. Until I got the truck last year, at least.”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “You went without a car for over a decade? With these winters?”

“Yep. I used public transit in winter months, but in warmer ones, I biked or walked everywhere.”

“Impressive. I’ve known several people who’ve given up a vehicle at one point or another. Most didn’t even make it a full year.”

“Vehicle ownership certainly has its conveniences; I’ll give you that.”

Looking away for a moment, Jake threw the ball in the opposite direction from the one Seven was anticipating. “Yeah, it does, but seriously, I’m impressed.”

Jenna thanked him as Seven dashed full speed across the yard while chasing down the new ball.

Jogging over to the backpack, Jake pulled out a handful of brightly colored Frisbees. “Maybe I shouldn’t push my luck, but it’d be nice to see him add some precision to that speed.”

“Are you thinking of agility classes?”

“Once I can get him leashed up easier. Want to join?”

“I’d love to watch, but he really looks like he’s on the cusp of something transformative with you. He wouldn’t even get caught in the same room with my brother-in-law, if he could help it. The whole time he was there.”

A dark look passed over Jake’s face. “That’s not the only thing that points to abuse at some point in his past. I just hope he decides it’s worth giving people another chance.”

“I have faith he will, starting with you.”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll do my best not to let either of you down.”

Having caught up with the ball, Seven trotted over with it until he was about ten or twelve feet away and dropped it onto the grass. Looking up, he stared intently as Jake tapped the bright-red Frisbee against his knee. As he watched, Seven’s head tilted back and forth like a metronome.

Rather than throw the Frisbee clear across the yard the way he had the tennis balls, Jake sent it on a short, gentle trip in Seven’s direction. Scooting sideways at it came toward him and landed at his feet, Seven tucked his tail and let out a yip. As he pranced in an arc around it, Seven looked from Jake to the Frisbee as if attempting to decipher if this was a new form of reprimand.

“That’s for you, boy.” Jake readied the green one next. This time, he aimed a little away from Seven and threw it a touch harder. After a second of indecision as it passed nearby, Seven bounded after it with the enthusiasm of a bull attempting to buck off its rider. Once again, he stopped a few feet from it in the grass to glance back uncertainly at Jake.

Jake had a red one ready. “Come on, Seven, this is for you. Go get it.”

He threw it a bit harder and a little farther away. Seven ran after it, barking and wagging his tail. When it landed in the grass, Seven was brave enough this time to step in for a sniff and to clamp a paw over it before backing away like he’d encountered a rattlesnake.

“He’s really the cutest.” Jenna headed for the first two abandoned Frisbees and one of the nearby tennis balls and carried them to Jake, who only had a yellow Frisbee left in his hand.

“Thanks.”

Their fingers brushed in the exchange, and a rush of warmth radiated out from behind Jenna’s ears and jaw as his touch stirred up the memory of the security that had swept over her the other night—in spite of the pain and chaos—as he’d held her hand.

The voice of self-doubt crept in on the memory’s heels, reminding her car accidents weren’t how you met people. This wasn’t how someone entered your life with any permanence.

Jenna sucked in a breath. She was no different than Seven, unsure of whether to stop a ball that was already rolling.

On Jake’s fourth Frisbee throw, Seven ran alongside it the last few feet. He could’ve caught it easily, but he didn’t seem to understand that this was the point. Instead, as it landed and rolled at an angle across the grass, he pounced on it, wagging his tail, and letting out a single bark.

“Mind if I take some video of this? He’s so cute.”

“Go for it. It’ll be a good marker for his progress.” Jake sent another Frisbee sailing his way, and Seven dashed alongside it.

Once it hit the ground, Seven was ready to attack. He pounced on it with his front paws before hesitantly taking it in his mouth and trotting in a victory circle with it sticking straight out in front of him, a saucer of bright blue clamped between his teeth.

Laughing, Jake called out, “Good boy! Good boy, Seven.” He sent the red one sailing across the yard, though this time he aimed a bit further way. Dropping the one still in his mouth, Seven sprinted after it, this time knocking it out of the air just before it hit the ground.

Likely it was little more than the joy of the sprint, but soon there was no question as to whether Seven was having fun once more. His bushy tail wagged back and forth, and his mouth gaped open in an easy grin. Looking at Jake, he barked once,and bounded forward.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You want another one. Here it comes.”

As the red one sailed across the yard, Seven made a dash for it, running alongside it for a few strides before snatching it out of the air with his teeth. Perhaps he’d grabbed it on instinct and was surprised because the act of capturing it caught him off-balance. He rolled in a circle on the grass but popped up onto all fours quickly, shaking himself off, the shiny red disc still clamped between his teeth.

Jenna was ecstatic to have caught the whole thing on video. “Adorable and impressive!”

Jake threw a few more Frisbees and continued showering Seven with praise as he went after them. Each time, Seven seemed to grow more and more comfortable with the fact that this new game was, in fact, a game that was safe to play with unbridled enthusiasm, and he started to catch the Frisbees in midair with more and more confidence.

When Seven had run enough that he was panting heavily, Jake paused the game to pour water from a bottle into a plastic take-out container that he pulled from the backpack. Seven trotted over but was hesitant to approach until Jake stepped back a foot. Then he lapped up the water, nearly drinking the bowl dry.

If someone had told her he could make this much progress in a little over a day, Jenna wouldn’t have believed it. “I think this is what he’s been missing all along, a relationship with a human he can trust and an outlet for all that energy of his.”

Jake headed over to stand next to her, shaking his head lightly as he smiled. “Can you do me a favor and continue to remind me that I’m just fostering? Because of all those reasons I had for not getting a dog these last several years, not a one of them has changed.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jenna said nothing. Instead, she pulled up the first of a handful of short videos she’d taken and stepped closer so Jake could see the screen. As closely together as they were standing, their arms brushed a few times, and while doing her best to pay attention to the videos, Jenna found her attention warring with the desire to lock in that smell of leather and pine.

While filming, she’d moved the camera back and forth between Jake and the dog. She’d caught Jake’s expression of surprised delight after Seven caught a Frisbee in midair for the first time, like a kid opening a favorite Christmas present. She stood next to him, seeing what he was. She hoped he realized it, too, how perfectly the two of them fit together.

“What I’d rather remind you of is how good you two are together,” she said as the last video finished.

Without stepping back, Jake looked up from the phone and locked his gaze on her. In the sunlight, his hazel eyes were vivid green outlined in brown and accented by thick, dark eyebrows and his short beard. Just a foot or so separated his mouth from hers, and Jenna wondered what he’d do if she closed in that distance until their lips were touching. Would he kiss her back or step away? Something about the look in his gaze told her he’d lean into it the same way she wanted to.

They were both startled by Jenna’s phone abruptly blasting out the first few lines from Maroon 5’s song “Payphone” that her sister had programmed to play as the ringtone whenever she called.

Jenna nearly dropped her phone as the world flooded in. “I need to take this. It’s my sister. I’ve been waiting for her call.”

Jake stepped back. “Yeah, sure thing.”

Jenna headed across the yard for a bit of privacy, her pulse skittering. Monica no doubt had been staring at her phone all day, willing it to ring or for an email to come in, alerting her that the biopsy had been read. Until Jake had showed up and the happy buzz that filled her around him had offered a bit of distraction, Jenna had been on edge too. Working in the garden had eased some of her tension. Smelling the soil and working the roots loose in her hands before repotting the plants had, as always, grounded her. Now, the anxiousness slammed back in with the force of a horse galloping at full speed.

“Hey there.” Jenna pressed her ear to the speaker, willing her tone to carry a lightness that had entirely fled.

“It’s not cancer!” Monica blurted out, a blubbery-sounding mess.

Jenna folded forward as relief swept over her. She closed her eyes and let out a giant exhale, tears flooding in. “Thank God!”

“It’s duct ectasia. For certain.” Monica paused to sniff loudly. “I’m getting a round of antibiotics, and if it’s still hard and sore, then I’ll get it removed after the baby comes.”

“Thank heavens, Monica. Now you can just relax and soak up the rest of this pregnancy.”

“I know I said I didn’t care,” Monica continued so fast she cut her off, “but I don’t want to lose my boobs. I was prepared for this to be it, for the choice to be made for me—and maybe worse—but now I don’t have cancer, and I’m back to having to decide again. Is it wrong to think that’s worse?”

Jenna took a second to process her sister’s rapid-fire words. “I get what you’re saying, but you don’t have anything to decide right now. You’re still a few months shy of thirty, and you have a human life inside you. That’s all you need to think about right now.”

“But this isn’t going to go away. Mom was thirty-three when she was diagnosed, and I have the gene mutation. I’m more likely to get it than I am not. That’s never going to go away.”

Swiping tears from her cheeks, Jenna took a breath. This right here was life with Monica most of the time. One drama to the next without a breather. “An elective mastectomy isn’t your only path forward, remember.”

“But it’s the best one.” In the background, the boys’ bickering escalated, and Monica sniffed back her tears. “Joseph won’t take his nap, and he’s being a little monster. I’m going to drive around for a bit and see if I can get him to fall asleep that way. What are you doing? Can I come pick you up?”

Jenna glanced across the yard where Jake was throwing the Frisbee for Seven, and Monica took her hesitation as refusal.

“It’ll be a half hour before I can get there, so you’ve got a bit,” Monica added. “And it’ll just be for an hour or so. We can take the boys to the P-A-R-K. Or out for I-C-E C-R-E-A-M.”

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll be ready.”

Slipping her phone into her pocket, Jenna headed across the yard. After throwing another Frisbee, Jake turned her way. He didn’t say a word, but the look on his face made it clear he realized that something big had just played out.

“My sister went in for a biopsy yesterday.” Her voice sounded steadier than she’d have expected. “It’s not cancer. Thank God. But in the comedown from all the worry, she’s a mess. We’ve all been on edge this last week, waiting to figure out what was going on with her.”

He nodded slowly. “I bet that’s been rough for everybody. Do you need a ride over there or anything?”

“Thanks, but she’s going to load up the boys—they’re two and four—and come pick me up.” She shrugged. “It’s a long story, but the short of it is she’s a bit of a mess more often than she isn’t.”

“And you’re the big sister.” He didn’t have to add “helping keep her together” for her to know that’s what he meant.

“I guess you could say it’s my other part-time job,” she added with a shrug even as a smile crept back onto her face. “She’s my sister though. I love her and my little nephews more than anything. But I’m working on better boundaries with her. Her not actually having cancer promises to make that road a bit easier.”

“I bet so.” On the other side of the yard, Seven was staring their way expectantly, the green Frisbee abandoned at his feet as he panted. Jake jutted his thumb in Seven’s direction. “I suspect I’ve got my own learning curve headed my way with this one.”

Jenna laughed, and the lingering tension from the phone call fled. “I’d argue otherwise, but I bet you’re right.”

Jake threw one more Frisbee in the opposite direction so that Seven had to dash the full length of the yard to catch up with it. It hit the ground and started rolling on its side just before he caught up, and Seven snatched it up, his tail lifted in pride or excitement or both. “Now to tell him it’s time to get going,” he said with a laugh. “Cross your fingers he sleeps through my meetings this afternoon, will you?”

“Are you taking him into your office?”

“No, these are virtual, and I’ll start out next week from home, too, but like I said yesterday, I’m in court all day this coming Friday, so I’ll have to get him in that crate sooner or later.”

“Like I said, if you need help that day, let me know.”

“I appreciate that. And about that dinner we talked about… I’m heading up to my parents’ house in Racine tomorrow, so what about Monday night? My place. No stress whatsoever. The only thing you have to do is show up.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

He bent down and picked up the backpack, hiking it over one shoulder. “What do you like?”

Without him having added “to eat” at the end of that, Jenna’s imagination traveled to something entirely different than food, and she swallowed hard. “I’m allergic to shellfish, but other than that, I like pretty much everything.”

“Good to know. And what about different ethnicities? Any to steer clear of, because I run the gamut when I cook.”

“No, but the fact that you asked has me excited to try your cooking.”

“Good.” A half smile lit his face. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

“Same.” Jenna caught herself blinking a few too many times after this left her tongue. Of all the ways you could’ve responded, that’s what came out?

Jake didn’t seem to mind. “You won’t.”

Because she was having a hard time holding his gaze all of a sudden, Jenna looked over at Seven. “I should probably get going. My sister will be here soon.”

“Yeah, sure thing. No need to wait us out. No telling how fast I’ll be able to get him leashed.”

“See you Monday then.”

“Yeah, see you Monday.”

Jenna headed inside with her insides buzzing like she had both hands planted on the plasma globe at the Museum of Science and Industry. In those dizzying and painful seconds after the crash, as she’d struggled to come to grips with what had just happened, she’d never have expected it might lead to anything like this.