Chapter 9

~ ALLIE ~

I seriously like him, I keep thinking over the next several days as I’m making every excuse I can to spend time with him. I know he has no interest in me, but I can’t seem to resist being around him anyway.

I tell myself that it’s because he’s been so generous in letting me stay, that I really should help him any chance I can. But that’s only partly true. The fact is, just painting late into the night or helping him install crown molding during my lunch breaks is more satisfying than the best sex I’ve ever had.

Besides that, I’m really learning a lot, and everything I learn I figure I can use fixing up my kennel.

If I get the foreclosure.

That’s a big if.

I ache slightly as I walk up the two flights of stairs to Cass’s apartment. I helped Logan paint the crown molding last night and it’s murder on my upper back and neck. I can think of at least a hundred ways I’d like to get my muscles sore with that man, and painting molding is way down on the list. But I’ll take what I can get.

I knock on Cass’s door. She swings it open, looking frazzled in her sparkly princess makeup with one eye looking a lot smaller than the other eye.

“You’re missing an eyelash,” I inform her.

“I know. Damn thing fell on the floor and Skylar ate it,” she retorts, giving a toss of her head in the direction of her latest foster, a Shetland sheepdog. “I’m already running late for work and now I have to go to the drug store to get more eyelashes looking like some kind of crack whore.”

I glance her up and down. She isn’t too far from the truth about that. The heavy makeup and big hair looks fine when she has her forty-pound princess dress on. But in her cutaway shorts and t-shirt, she does look like she’s in a questionable line of work.

“Want me to run over there and get some?” I offer.

“I’ll never make it in time. It’s on the way. I’ll be fine.” She disappears into her bathroom. “Leash is on the kitchen table and the extra keys are next to it.”

“Thanks,” I call into her, only then noticing her roommate passed out on the couch. I stare at her for a few beats, more to make sure that she’s still breathing than anything else. And then I thank God for Logan so that I don’t have to stay here till I find out about the foreclosure.

Logan. Again, my mind wanders happily in his direction as I shut and lock the door behind me, with Skylar tugging at her leash.

So, Logan thinks I’m too young for him. The very thought elicits another chuckle from me as I load Skylar into my small hatchback with my three fosters.

Too young? Since I was twelve or thirteen, I’ve been told I was too mature. That I should loosen up and have more fun. Not take life so seriously. Act my age.

This is the first time anyone’s ever said I was too young for them.

Not that I’ve dated many thirty-somethings. There was one once who took me to dinner a couple times in Dayton. He seemed really nice till the third dinner he forgot to take off his wedding band before meeting me at the restaurant. That sort of made me cut things short.

Other women might be annoyed by Logan’s blow-off, but I’m not. I’ve been told I’m cute, but even as recently as last month, a guy I was attracted to at an adoption event ended up dating Cass. Who could blame him? Look at her. Then look at me. Unless a guy is attracted to my wider, better-for-birthing hips, of course he’d go for my rail thin model friend. I didn’t even lose an ounce of self-esteem over that one.

So I can handle having an attractive, but off-limits man living next door, especially one who is big-hearted enough to let my dogs and me stay there for free.

But only if I get to ogle him when he wears a tight t-shirt.

I pull into a space right in front of Sally Sweet’s and see Kim already setting up lawn chairs. A tray with two coffee cups is resting on the concrete at her feet and my smile forms at the sight of it.

I love Kim. I love coffee. And the fact that Kim brings me coffee makes me devoted to my bestie till the day I die.

“Am I late?” I ask.

Her eyes look sad. “No. I had to bolt out of the house early. My mom was in a mood and if I stuck around, I think she would have come up with an excuse to not babysit.”

“What’s wrong, hon? You look totally depressed.”

“I am depressed.” She takes two of the dogs off my hands. “Do you know what it’s like trying to be a mom to your son when you’re living with your own mom who still treats you like you’re sixteen years old?”

I have no clue what that would be like. I’m still at the stage in my life when I can’t even imagine myself as a mother. I have a hard enough time with my dogs. “I’m sorry. Did she say something bitchy?”

She rolls her eyes. “She always says something bitchy. And then Dad just stands there and shakes his head at me like I’m the most disappointing thing in his life. I swear to God, Allie, I have to get out of there.”

I sit down and sip my coffee contemplatively. “How much money have you saved up?”

“Not enough for a down payment on anything yet.” Kim is the manager of a flower shop just off Anders Street. And even though she’s manager, there’s not a ton of money rolling in.

“What if you pulled Connor out of pre-K?”

“I have to put him somewhere while I work. Daycare is just as expensive.”

“Maybe you could move in with me for a couple months? There’s tons of space in that townhouse and Logan seems to have a sweet spot for kids. He has a niece he really adores.”

I see something in Kim’s eyes soften, probably from hearing about a single man who actually likes kids. I know she is convinced they don’t exist, and after the way Connor’s dad bolted on Kim when she said she was pregnant, I guess I can understand why she’d think that. “Thanks. But it’s useless to move there for a couple months and then just have to move again.”

I lean back, watching the slow traffic. “I wonder what Logan is going to sell those townhomes for when he’s done with them.”

She shakes her head. “A lot more than I can afford. I guarantee it. What I need is a better job. But all the better paying jobs won’t allow me to pick up Connor at 3:00.”

“Yeah, but with a better paying job, you’d be able to afford aftercare.”

“And how many better paying jobs are there around here? None. If I commuted all the way to the city, I’d be on the road over two hours a day. Even you said you applied to the corporations close-by and they all rejected you.”

“But that was me, not you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve sent them all résumés, but I’m trapped till I hear back anything.”

My heart breaks for her. I don’t know how single moms do it. I drape my arm around her. “Well, I’ve got two parties booked this week, and I’d love to unload one on you.”

Her features brightening, she looks at me. “Really?”

“Really.” Why not? Foreclosure or not, she can use the income more than I can.