Chapter Twenty-Five
Becky didn’t feel like going to a party.
She reminded herself it wasn’t a party; it was a fundraiser for the shelter, which was a good cause she very much supported. And she was technically working at it because Dakota wanted her to be the photographer.
Well, Dakota had told her to “carry her camera,” but Becky understood what she meant.
Besides, it would be good to hide behind the camera. She didn’t think Foster would be there—surely Dakota wouldn’t welcome him or any reminder of that crappy night—but she’d also spent the week studiously avoiding him, and she didn’t want to take any chances.
She was giving him space.
And she was looking for a new job.
It turned out she had a reputation in Denver, and when she finally worked up the courage to call a recruiter, she’d gotten all kinds of interest. She just had to decide what direction she wanted to go in. Not another P&G; she was still sure about that. But something where she could do some good.
That was for later. For now, she was going to a party.
It felt weird wearing a dress to the shelter, and she was pretty sure she’d regret it once the first set of muddy paws came out, but Dakota had insisted.
She finally found a parking spot halfway down the block. The lot was full and she barely squeezed into the spot she’d found. As she climbed up the long driveway—flanked on either side by parked cars—she heard the sounds of a live band and the shouts of kids. So, not the stuffy kind of fundraiser. Good thing Dakota was specific in her dress code instructions: cute, but not stuffy, and definitely a dress.
She smoothed down the front of her sundress and buttoned one of the buttons on her cardigan. It wasn’t quite warm enough for it, but it was sunny, and she figured if she got cold, she could just run some laps with one of the hounds. Maybe that would inspire one of these families to take a dog home with them.
There was a big banner across the front of the shelter that read “New Hope Family Day.” There were tables set up with games and crafts, and people were milling around, enjoying the sunshine and the barbecue.
There was even a kissing booth. She pulled off her lens cap. It was too cute. A dog who looked a lot like Rizzo was manning it, delighting kids with slobbery kisses as their parents deposited cash in the nearby jar.
She got closer to get a good angle. The dog barked at her and tried to climb out of the booth.
“Rizzo, stay!” A woman standing behind the booth held on to Rizzo’s leash as the dog vibrated with excitement. But she stayed.
“This is Rizzo?” Becky asked her. “I thought she looked familiar. What is she doing back here?”
“It’s not what you think,” the woman assured her. “She’s mine. She’s just volunteering for today. Part of the New Hope Family.”
“Got it. It’s good to see you, Rizzie.” She gave Rizzo’s haunches a vigorous rub.
“Say, are you Becky?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” she said, straightening up from molesting the woman’s dog.
“You take the photos for the web site, right? I’m Kelly. Thank you so much for doing that. I fell in love with Rizzo from that picture.”
“Oh, thanks. Wow, that’s really nice to hear.”
“I don’t suppose you’d consider selling me a higher-res copy? So I can get it framed?”
“Oh, sure. I hadn’t thought about that. I mean, just make a donation to the shelter and I’ll be sure you get it, does that sound OK?”
“Perfect. Hey, Brian!” Kelly called out to a man working the barbecue station. “This is Becky!”
“Becky!” He handed off his tongs and came over and enveloped Becky in a hug.
“OK. Great. Hugging strangers.”
“Sorry,” Brian said. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to all of you. I adopted Tigger.”
“Oh! Bouncy Tigger! How’s he doing?”
“He’s perfect. My wife has PTSD and he never leaves her side. I never would have found him if it wasn’t for your picture.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
Brian hugged her again. “Thank you.”
As soon as she disentangled herself from Brian—and wiped away a few happy tears—she went in search of Dakota. It took longer than she expected, though, because she kept getting waylaid by people who had adopted dogs from New Hope based on pictures she had taken.
It was enough to make a girl’s head swell up.
But then she saw Foster.
Which brought her crashing right down to Earth.
He was looking gorgeous and scruffy and he was carrying Starr, who was sporting a festive floral bandanna. It kind of matched the pattern of her dress.
Great. Just what she needed. She’d offered to give him space and now she was dressed like his dog.
Before she could escape back into the fray, he spotted her and made a beeline right to her.
“Hey,” he said. He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. He was smiling like a goofball.
Didn’t this guy know that he’d broken her heart?
“Starr missed you,” he said and dumped the dog into her arms.
“Oh,” she said, instantly melting. “I missed you, too, sweetheart.”
“So. Ah. How are you?”
“Great. Fine. This is a nice party.”
“Yup. Haven’t seen you around the office much.”
“Oh.” Wasn’t that the point of space? “I’ve been busy.” Looking for other jobs. To give herself some space.
Being near him just reinforced her determination to get away from P&G. He smelled good. She wanted to lick him.
Not really part of their current deal.
“How’re you?” she asked, even though she could have answered that just by looking at him. Happy. Hot.
God, why did he have to have that stupid beard back?
“Fine, great. Working a lot.”
“I bet.”
“I’m writing up a settlement deal for Goliath.”
“A settlement? I thought you guys were going to win big?”
He shrugged. “This was the best way. We came to terms on Friday, so I was there all last night working.”
“Bummer.”
“I would have called you.”
“But you were working.”
“I wanted to be done first. Get that out of the way.”
“Sure. Take care of the client first, I get it.”
“No, that’s not . . . can we go somewhere to talk?”
That sounded very dangerous, with him looking so sexy and earnest and her wearing a dress and remembering all the creative ways he had of getting into her pants.
“How’s Maddie?” she asked, because that was the only way she could think of tamping down some of the rampant sexual energy she couldn’t seem to stop sending his way.
“She’s good, I think.”
“You think?”
“She’s, uh. She’s away. At a program.”
“A program? Like rehab?”
“Yeah. It’s a program for teenage girls. They’re on a ranch in Wyoming. She left on Wednesday.”
“Wow. That’s a change.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure she still hates me for it. Especially when she found out she’d be missing this party.”
“Dakota was going to let her come?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Smart. Well, I hope she does well there. A ranch? Is she a horse person?”
“She was obsessed when she was a kid, but I don’t know. She’s not a kid anymore.”
“No, she’s not.”
“But the horses let my parents tell their friends that she’s on a vacation instead of at a program for troubled teens.”
“Well, as long as Maddie gets the help she needs, right?”
“Right. Hey, listen, I’m really sorry . . .”
Those were the words she’d wanted to hear from him. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d wanted to hear them until he said them.
But then she was tackled by a flying Dakota, who whisked her off to meet more pet parents who’d fallen in love via her photos.
She wanted to take new photos. She would have, if she wasn’t still holding Starr.
“I saw you talking to Foster,” Dakota whispered to her between dog families. “What did he say?”
“Well, he started to apologize, but then you Tasmanian deviled me.”
“Oh, whoops. I promised him I would give him time. I just couldn’t wait anymore. Look at all these happy people with their happy dogs!”
“Wait, what do you mean, you promised him? I thought you hated him.”
“I do. I did. Then he got this great idea for a fundraiser . . .”
“This was his idea?”
“This wasn’t just his idea. This was all his doing. Well, him and his mother.” Dakota waved, and Becky followed her gaze to where Lydia Deacon was standing behind a table, selling New Hope T-shirts and Frisbees. “Smile at her. I want to stay on her good side.”
Becky smiled. “Why would my smiling have anything to do with that?”
Dakota stopped smiling and waving and looked right at Becky. “Didn’t Foster tell you?”
“Tell me what? Dakota, what’s going on here?”
“This whole party is for you.”
“What? No, it isn’t. It’s a fundraiser.”
“Yes, well, it’s conveniently disguised as a fundraiser from which I’ll reap all the benefits, but that’s just a cover. Beck, he did all this for you.”
She looked over to where Foster was standing with Bullhorn, who was trying to disentangle what looked like half a dozen leashes attached to half a dozen hyper dogs.
Foster caught her eye and started toward her.
She froze.
“Hi,” he said.
“We already did that.”
“Oh, right.” He ran his hand through his hair. Was he nervous?
“Did you want your dog back?” she asked, and dumped Starr into his arms.
“Thanks.”
She watched him settle Starr against his shoulder and tried not to melt. This whole thing was for her?
“So, ah, I don’t know what Dakota told you . . .”
“That you threw this party for me but disguised it as a fundraiser.”
“That’s pretty much it. I didn’t think you’d come if you knew it was for you.”
They were interrupted by a young couple and their pit bull, who Becky didn’t recognize at all until they told her that he used to be called Zero, and then she remembered the shivering little puppy who had to be coaxed out of his cage with bacon treats.
“He’s Ulysses now. Thank you so much.”
“Do you mind if we go somewhere quieter?” he asked when the couple had gone. “Just for a minute.”
“Yes, sure. I’ll probably pass out if I blush anymore.”
He took her hand and led her to the edge of the lot, where the grass turned to woods, woods that often deposited hungry strays on New Hope’s doorstep.
He stopped and faced her, but he didn’t let go of her hand. He took a deep breath. Let it out.
Part of her wanted to help him out, let him off the hook for doing what was her idea in the first place. But she decided to be patient and let him say what he wanted to say.
“I love you.”
Well. That wasn’t what she was expecting.
She looked up at him. Those eyes. That beard. God, she missed him. “What?”
“Sorry, that came out wrong.”
“No, I’m pretty sure it came out loud and clear.”
“I was supposed to give you a whole speech about how I never should have put the case before you, even though you offered, and I never should have shut you out when Madison needed you. When I needed you. And about how stupid and bullheaded I was being, and about how you make me a better person and I didn’t even realize it until you let me push you away and that I miss you so, so much. I was supposed to say all that stuff first.”
“Oh. Well, it’s not too late. If you want to say it now.” She smiled at him. She couldn’t help it.
“I love you so much, Becky. And I’ve been so stupid. And I didn’t know how to make it up to you.”
“So you threw me a party?”
“Madison said I had to do something big.”
“But you disguised it as a fundraiser?”
“I know you hate being the center of attention. I had to figure out a way to make sure you got the praise you deserve. Make sure you knew that, yeah, your family sucks, but people know what you’re worth.”
“Wow.”
“Too much?”
“It’s a lot.” She looked over at the party. The people, the animals, the noise. It was all for her.
“Will Starr be OK if you put her down for a minute?”
“Sure,” he said, and he bent down to deposit Starr on the grass, which she immediately started investigating. “Why?”
“Because I want to kiss you and I don’t want to crush your dog.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “See? That’s what I mean. Always thinking about others.”
“I love you.”
He beamed at her. “I love you, too. So much. You don’t know how much I missed . . .”
He was embarrassing her with all that sweetness. And he was holding her tight, which reminded her how good it felt to be in his arms and close to his heart. And while she loved listening to him wax poetic about all the ways he loved her, she had other things on her mind.
“Hey, Foster,” she said, cutting him off.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”