Wednesday Walks & Wags. Melissa Storm
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the journey alone.
She couldn’t even open the stupid box, for crying out loud!
And now she was crying.
Again.
When did the hurt finally go away? Did it ever? Or did it remain such a constant presence that it eventually became a part of who you were? Would the sense of loss one day identify her just as much as her dark hair or her chubby cheeks?
Teddy came over and let out a low whine as he studied his distraught human.
“I’m okay,” she told him with a sniff. “I’m okay.”
The little dog, appearing content with this answer, licked Bridget’s hand once, twice, and kept licking until she finally pulled it away. As soon as she did, Teddy’s body went completely still. His ears twitched, and then he unleashed another torrent of excited barks.
Her family had adopted Teddy about seven years ago. She’d been in tenth grade then, and she’d insisted on the adorable dog that looked so much like a stuffed toy that one of its most popular looks had been dubbed the “teddy bear cut.” Her mother had also fallen in love with the little fluffball on sight, and that was that. Nobody stopped to research the breed traits, to learn that they’d just brought into their lives one of the noisiest creatures that ever existed.
She’d grown used to Teddy’s barking. After all, he did it for everything—joy, pain, alarm, frustration, hunger, everything. Her dad and brothers, however, were constantly set on edge by the Pomeranian’s vocalizations, even now. That was part of the reason why she’d taken him with her once she was approved for the new dog-friendly apartment.
And she was glad she had.
Teddy had loved her mother, too. He knew what she’d lost, that she’d lost some important part of herself in the process. He knew, but he still loved her with an unyielding ferocity that no human being would ever be able to replicate.
Thank God for Pomeranians.
Drying her eyes with the palms of her hands, Bridget got up from the floor and went to stand at the window to see what had set Teddy off this time. She peeked out just in time to spot her new neighbor Wesley and his dogs crossing the courtyard below.
“Hey!” she cried, tapping on the glass to get his attention. “Hey! Wait for me!”
Wesley paused and waved; an uncertain expression flitted across his otherwise drawn features.
“C’mon, Teddy,” she called, shoving her feet into her best pair of sneakers and grabbing the Pomeranian’s leash from the hook by the door.
Once again, she wasn’t thinking.
Just doing.
Something about her new neighbor intrigued her. Definitely not his winning personality, but . . . something. Perhaps she’d figure out what that thing was after tonight’s walk—or at least learn enough not to be curious anymore. She doubted he’d spared her a second thought after that morning’s run-in at the vet, and that made him the perfect walking buddy, the very non-buddyness of him.
Both Rosco and Baby tried to follow them out of the apartment, but she didn’t want to make Wesley and his two energetic huskies wait a moment longer than necessary. Besides, she still had trouble controlling all three dogs at once, especially given that two of them were stronger than she was.
“I’ll walk you when I get back,” Bridget promised, blowing each of them kisses, then hurried downstairs to join Wesley, Beau, and Snow on their evening walk. Even if they didn’t know it, they’d saved her from the dangerous whirlpool of grief that had been gathering strength, ready to pull her under.
She could not afford to be drowned by her bitter emotions.
Not today.
Not again.
Chapter 5
Bridget hadn’t been certain Wesley would wait for her, but when she reached the courtyard a minute later, she found him standing with his arms crossed and one white-blond eyebrow lifted in her direction. Wesley’s dogs—Beau and Snow—sat placidly on either side, while Teddy strained against the leash so hard he could scarcely breathe.
He made quite a picture standing with his two large arctic dogs, looking every bit the arctic prince himself. In fact, his hair was so fair, it appeared to blend into his equally pale skin despite its length, which reached almost to his cheekbones. His chin and nose both had a sharpness to them that reminded her of an elegant bird—maybe a swan.
Where Bridget was made of soft curves from head to toe, Wesley had been composed of one angle after another. Even if his unwelcoming expression didn’t keep people at a distance, his generally icy air would most definitely do the trick. Never had she met someone quite so unapproachable, which was perhaps why she insisted on seeking him out tonight.
Or maybe she was just a glutton for punishment.
“I didn’t take you for a runner,” he noted with a smirk, making her think her latter conclusion was probably the right one.
Bridget put a hand on her hip and scowled. “Should I be insulted?”
Wesley shook his head and worked to hide the small smile that played at his lips. “You surprised me in a good way.”
“You invited me because you didn’t think I’d come,” she said aloud just as the realization struck her. Well, that was a jerk move on his part. Now she was glad she’d stopped him on his way through the courtyard.
“Maybe.” He stood straighter and cleared his throat. “But now that you’re here, let’s go.”
Without waiting even a second more, Wesley picked up speed. He and his dogs moved with a practiced fluidity that appeared more like a graceful dance than a sweaty exercise regimen.
“Ready, Teddy?” she asked the little fluffball at her side, wishing she’d had the time or the foresight to change into something other than jeans for her first run . . . well, ever.
She’d been one of the girls who refused to sprint the presidential mile in middle school, preferring to walk and talk with her friends at her normal pace. But now she found herself running after Wesley, her breath already coming out in labored puffs as they rounded the first block.
“C’mon,” he called effortlessly over his shoulder. “If you want to jog together, then you’ve got to be able to keep up.”
Is this just jogging?
She’d never moved so fast in all her life. At least not on purpose.
Bridget’s heart pounded in her ears. The longer they journeyed on, the more her legs felt like limp noodles attached to bear traps—her limbs had begun to lose all feeling while her ankles screamed in protest.
She wanted to ask Wesley to slow down, but she couldn’t get the words out over her gasps for breath.
Teddy—the blessed little munchkin—didn’t complain or slow her down in the slightest. If anything, Bridget felt as if she were the one letting him down. Perhaps her father or brother had run him regularly when he was still living at home with them. They were both far more fit than Bridget had ever been. She’d always been the brainy one, the one who joined after-school academic clubs instead of trying out for sports.
Why had she decided to join Wesley again? Oh, that’s right. She had absolutely no reason whatsoever.
Once again her impulsiveness had landed her in thick soup. But no, she could reason this out, find a way for it to make a bit more sense.
Now that Bridget thought about it, she had a good job and was well on her way to an even better one, just as soon as she finished her DVM coursework. So perhaps that meant it was time to invest a bit more in her health . . . and her subconscious had figured that out before she did, right?
Of course, she was young still—twenty-three—and had