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Five

March was coming in like a lamb. It was deceptive, because storms were forecasted for later in the week and into next. But for now, me and my cardigan were taking it.

I looked down and smiled at the tug on my charge’s bright purple leash. Latte, a Yorkie with some other mixture in his bloodline, was the newest client in my recently hatched dog-walking business.

So, he was my only client. It still counted. I had a client. I had a business other than my fledgling food delivery operation. That was a

bit more off the ground, but not by much.

Along with those two income streams, I also had a weekend job at Crescent Cove’s coffee shop. That was new too. I could’ve had more hours if I wanted them, but I wasn’t the best at working for someone else. Hence, my own tiny businesses.

In time, I hoped to be able to support myself entirely through my own efforts. I was good at budgeting, so I could make do on little. Until then, a couple of weekend shifts as a pastry maker helped fill in the gaps.

And walking little Latte while his people parents were at work—one of them at the same coffee shop where I worked—gave me a chance to get some exercise. Good thing too, since I’d noticed this morning my jeans were a little snug. I’d had to suck in a breath or two while I was tugging up the zipper.

Too much sampling my own goodies probably. Hey, being a cook-slash-baker had to have some perks, right?

Latte led me over to a patch of grass near the pizza shop. My mouth watered at the thought of a slice. I was about to dig in my pocket to see if I’d remembered to tuck a few dollars in there when Latte dragged me on to the next patch of lawn to sniff, this one in front of the real estate office.

I glanced up at the stately columns that framed the wide porch, smothering a sigh. It must be so fun to find a house that had everything you’d ever wanted. To figure out every detail and make sure every bit was to your liking.

Not quite the same as living in the too big cookie-cutter house that had belonged to my parents. It wasn’t really that big, but it was a lot of house for just one woman living on her own. My sisters hardly ever spent time at home anymore, if they could help it. Even on breaks, they tended to be out with their friends or picking up a shift or two at the pizza shop for some extra spending money.

Finding new accommodations—a fresh start—as soon as my businesses started turning a profit was at the top of the list.

Latte walked over to the nearest bush and cocked his tiny leg. Whew. No need for the plastic bags tied to his leash yet. Then he made a liar out of me by walking over a few feet and squatting dangerously close to the sidewalk.

“No, no, Latte, not in this town. There’ll be none of that.” Discreetly, I tried to nudge his brown rump toward the center of the lawn. He would not budge.

Let the poop commence.

I sighed again and closed my eyes for a second, focusing on the warmth of the sun on my back instead of the pile of steaming poo awaiting me. I turned my head and shielded my eyes to look across the lake, taking in the rays shimmering off the still icy water. Chunks had broken free near the shore, but out in the middle, Crescent Lake was still frozen solid, unexpected warmth or not.

A sudden yank on the leash had me reeling forward. I did a fancy two-step to avoid the present Latte had left me and nearly tipped over into the baby stroller wheeling up the block in our direction.

It wasn’t operating under its own steam, thank God, but it took me a minute to realize that. All I could see was the cherubic little girl in the seat, clapping her chubby hands and reaching for the dog now straining to get into her buggy.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. He’s friendly, as you can see. Latte, no.”

I scooped him up and cradled him to my chest, hoping like hell the older woman manning the stroller wasn’t the litigious sort. Latte hadn’t bitten the little girl, but some people were far too eager to start trouble. Especially in prissy small towns. Crescent Cove seemed to contain a lot of kind, friendly people, but one could never be too sure.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Lily was enjoying him. As you can see.” The woman laughed and slipped off her funky purple and pink sunglasses, then reached around the canopied top of the stroller to ruffle the baby’s russet curls. She was still straining toward Latte, her little mouth screwed up in a pucker.

Latte was straining just as much in my arms. He’d definitely made a new friend. But I wasn’t going to push it.

“Go ahead and set him down again.” The other woman tucked a file folder under her arm bearing the words Hamilton Realty. Must’ve just come out of the real estate office, which was why she’d seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Go on now,” she urged when I hesitated. “They’re about the same size. They won’t do each other any harm.”

“If you’re sure.”

I set down Latte and he scrambled toward the baby, popping up on his hind legs for the little girl to awkwardly pat his head. The dog’s tongue never stopped flicking out over her arm, which only made her laugh.

“This is the perfect day for a nice walk, isn’t it?” The woman shielded her eyes and glanced across the street to the lake. “Now that we have this business done, we’re headed over there. Maybe you too, with your handsome little gent?”

“Oh, he’s not mine. I’m a dog-sitter.” I bent to remind him I was close by, just in case he decided to get too frisky. “His name is Latte. And your little girl, she’s Lily? She’s a beauty.”

She let out a rich laugh. “Mine? Hardly. This shop’s been closed for years. This is my great-granddaughter, Lily Louise. Prettiest little girl you’ve ever seen, isn’t she?”

“Great-granddaughter? You can’t be serious.”


Tags: Taryn Quinn Crescent Cove Romance