Jock boston terriers boo.., p.9
JOCK (Boston Terriers Book 5), page 9
“Okay, that works.”
“Let’s finish up so you can get some rest. I don’t want you sleeping through our first date.”
Chapter Twelve
Owen
Eliza is waiting on the sidewalk near the front steps of her building when I pull up curbside. Jumping out of my truck, I hurry around to open her door. I reflexively smile when I see her. She looks adorable in a purple winter jacket, fitted jeans, and hiking boots. I like that she’s comfortable being casual.
“Hey there. Are you ready for today?”
“Hi.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “To be honest, I’m not sure.”
Uh-oh. Is she having second thoughts about our date? I’m not going to let that happen.
“Come on, get in. I’m going to show you what a great date I am.” Taking hold of her hand I help her climb into the passenger side.
“You have a lot of experience with dating, do you?”
“Actually, I don’t. But I know how to have fun. I’m somewhat of an expert on it. And I’ve been told I’m good company so, I’m pretty sure you won’t regret going out with me.”
“Should we bet on it?” Her eyes gleam mischievously.
“Are you a betting girl?”
She shrugs. “Sometimes.”
“Okay. Hold that thought until I get in.” Closing the door beside her, I race back around to the driver’s side. Once I’m seated, I glance at Eliza. “What are we betting?”
“Loser treats the winner to a dinner of their choice?”
“How about the loser has to go on a date of the winner’s choice? That way it’s less specific and we can choose something besides grabbing a bite to eat.”
“That sounds reasonable. But if I don’t enjoy this date, would I really want to go out with you again?”
“You’d only be committing to us doing something together. It wouldn’t have to be a date. But you have to be honest about whether you have fun today. Otherwise it’s pointless to bet.”
“I can do that.”
“Even if it means you have to do whatever I want?”
“Within reason,” she retorts.
“Absolutely. I’m not going to take you anywhere that would make you uncomfortable.”
“I can promise the same. Should we shake on it?” She stretches her hand out toward me.
Catching her hand in mine, I tug her forward into my arms. “I’d rather hug it out.” She fits perfectly against my chest, as if we were made to be this way. It’s unsettling how right her head feels tucked under my chin, and how soothing the soft sound of her breathing is. It’s all a little too right and I start to panic. Pulling away, I focus on fastening my seat belt. In my periphery I see her watching me. I’m sure she must be wondering what my weird behavior is about.
Shifting into drive, I pull out onto the road and gather my thoughts. Calm down, dude. This is a date, not a lifetime commitment. Take it slow and see what happens.
Thankfully, the place I’m bringing her to is only a short drive. We haven’t spoken a single word since the hug and I’m not sure how to break through the veil of awkwardness surrounding us. I pull into a small lot to the side of a brick building and find a space to park my truck.
“Where are we?”
“We’re in Brookline.”
“I know that. I mean what is this place?”
“Trust me for a few more minutes and you’ll see.”
“Fair enough.” She nods. Opening my door, I climb out of my old Ford. Heading around to her side, I give her my hand, assisting as she steps down. Shutting the door, I keep hold of her, slotting our fingers together. My skin sizzles with awareness as her soft palm kisses mine. She raises our hands up examining them.
“You got your cast off.”
“Yep, this morning. It felt amazing to wash my whole hand and not just my fingertips. I have a brace I’m supposed to wear all the time, but my arm needed a break.”
She giggles, “Not sure that’s the pun you want to use.”
“Ha, you’re right.”
“I know what you mean about washing your hand, though. I broke my wrist when I was ten and I thought it was the end of the world. Taping a trash bag around my arm to shower was the worst. When I got the cast off, I stayed in the tub for two hours straight.”
We walk across the parking lot too fast for my liking and I pause once we’re standing near the door.
“The mother of one of my best friends owns this place. I thought you might enjoy coming here for our first date.”
“Now, I’m even more curious as to what we’re doing.” Her berry colored lips show the promise of a smile.
I tip my head toward the door before I tug it open. “Let’s find out.” We step inside the brightly lit shop and Eliza’s eyes look big as saucers as she takes it all in.
“We’re painting pottery?”
“Yep. Is that okay?”
She nods vigorously. “Are you kidding? I love anything to do with arts and crafts. I do them with my… little sister.”
“Owen, I’ve been waiting for you to get here,” Mrs. Wilde calls out as she hurries our way. I release Eliza’s hand as she engulfs me in a hug. “It’s nice to see you on a Tuesday for a change.”
“It’s nice to be seen. This is Eliza. I thought she might enjoy coming here.”
“It’s nice meeting you,” Eliza smiles.
“I’m happy to meet a friend of Owen’s. Aren’t you a gorgeous little thing.” Mrs. Wilde looks her over before glancing my way. “Is this your girlfriend and you’ve been keeping her a secret?”
“No, ma’am. Not yet.”
“What are you waiting for? You better act fast before someone else snatches her up. You and that trouble making son of mine need to settle down.” She looks at Eliza. “Do you know my son, Clancy?”
“No, ma’am. I only know of him.”
“Ha, I bet you do. And so do most of the Boston University students.”
“In his defense, he’s not that bad,” I offer.
“You two are thick as thieves. You wouldn’t say anything different no matter what.” She rubs her hands together. “Let’s get down to business. Look around and choose what you’d like to paint. I’ve set up a table in the rear for the two of you.”
“Thank you.”
“Bring your items back with you and you can get started.”
“Do you see anything you like?” I question.
“There are so many things to choose from. I’m not sure how I’ll narrow it down to one.”
“We can always come back here some other time. And if you decide you never want to go on another date with me, you can always come back with a friend.”
“True. I’m sure Perri would love this place.”
“Oh, I see. I’m getting squeezed out already,” I laugh.
“Perri’s pretty tough competition. We have a lot of fun together.”
I rub my palms together. “Bring it on. I’m prepared for a battle. I’m going to wow you with my painting prowess.”
She raises a brow. “That’s a new one. Can’t say I’ve heard anyone brag about their ‘painting prowess’ before.”
“Hey, I’m a man of many talents. You haven’t even scratched the surface yet.”
“Okay, hotshot. What are you going to paint?”
“I’m making my grandmother a platter she can use for the holidays.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Thanks.” I walk over to the shelf and choose a large oblong platter. Turning back to her, I inquire, “What about you?”
Her eyes scan the floor to ceiling shelves. “See that piggy bank up there?” She points to a spot over my right shoulder.
Spinning around, I find the item she’s interested in and carefully remove it from the shelf. Placing the ceramic object in her hands, I notice the smile on her lips as she studies each side.
“You like pigs, huh?”
“You’re only seeing this from a functional point of view while I’m thinking about what I’m going to paint on it.”
“Let’s head to the back. I’m sure Mrs. Wilde must be wondering where we are by now.”
Eliza removes her jacket and places it on the back of her chair before she sits down. I take the seat next to her at the table that’s been set up with old coffee cans holding paint brushes of all sizes and a cup filled with pencils.
“There are two plastic bowls of water, one for each of you. Eliza, if you’re worried about getting paint on your clothes, there are smocks hanging on hooks.” Mrs. Wilde points to the back corner of the room. “Here’s a stack of napkins in case things get messy.” She winks at me as she sets them on the table.
“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t your first time doing this?”
“She’s astute, Owen. Beauty and brains, I’m impressed.”
“What can I say? I got it going on like that,” I joke.
Eliza snorts, “No comment.”
“What are you going to paint on the platter?” Mrs. Wilde’s eyes sparkle with curiosity. You can tell this is her passion. “Do you need some stencils to trace out?”
“Mrs. W., really? Do I need stencils? When have you ever seen me use stencils?”
“Only when you’re helping someone else.” I glance at Eliza and catch her rolling her eyes.
“Okay, I’m going to leave you guys to it. Eliza, as you’ve figured out, Owen’s a pro and can help you with whatever you need.”
“I’m sure he can,” she replies drolly. Mrs. Wilde flashes me a sympathetic smile before she walks away.
“Just so you know, I’ve never brought anyone here.” I watch her downcast eyes and wait for her to look up. “Well that’s not exactly true.”
She huffs, “Big surprise.”
“Hear me out before you jump to conclusions there, Abu. Clancy is the only other person I’ve brought here. His mom has an at-risk youth group here once a week to paint. Clancy and I help out with whatever the kids need.”
She smiles. “Two big jocks working with troubled teens?” I nod. “That’s super sweet. I bet they look up to you guys.”
“Yeah, they do. And we’ve gotten to know most of the kids really well. Some of them have been coming here for the three years we’ve been doing it.”
“It must be difficult to learn their stories and know that each time they leave they’re going home to a less than ideal environment.”
“Yeah, it is. But I try not to think about that because it will pollute the moments we have with sadness. Instead, I focus on making the time they’re here as much fun as I can. And maybe that makes the rest of their week a little easier to get through.” She stares at me, her blue eyes never waver as she studies my face. “What?” My dark brows press together, and my lips form a curious smile.
“There’s not much that surprises me these days, but you continue to every time we’re together.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
She slowly nods. “Definitely.”
“I’m going to need to work at keeping you off balance. I think I like opening your eyes to the real Owen Dawson.”
“Do you prefer that people don’t see this side of you?”
“No, not at all. I just don’t feel the need to share what I do with anyone”
“Not even your closest friends?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Only Clancy. I don’t want credit for working with those kids. We’re in a partnership, they help me as much as I help them. Seeing their smiles and having them laugh along with me is more than enough reward.” I pluck two pencils from the cup in the center of the table and hand one to Eliza. “Lightly draw the design you want to paint on your piggy bank. When you’re done with that I’ll tell you what comes next.”
“Eeek. I’m excited and nervous. What if I screw it up?”
“It’s impossible to mess it up. No matter what, it’s still something you made. And if you need help drawing something just ask.”
“You fancy yourself to be some kind of artist then?”
“No, not at all. I’m not bad, but my older brother, Josh, is a true artist. He creates amazing artwork. He’s also a tattoo artist and owns a shop not too far from campus.”
“Which one?”
“It’s called Canvas.”
“I’ve seen that place. I’ve always wanted to go inside and check it out.”
“Why haven’t you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I will.”
“How about if I take you there sometime?”
“I think I’d like that.”
“Are you interested in getting a tattoo?”
“I might be,” she smiles coyly.
“Where would you get said tattoo?” I wiggle my eyebrows and she giggles.
“On my wrist.”
“Damn. I was hoping for something else.”
She laughs, “I’m sure you were.”
“But seriously, if you want a tattoo, my brother’s the best. He did mine and a bunch of the guys’ on the Terriers.”
“What’s your tattoo of?”
“The Boston Terriers logo.”
“Where is it?”
Raising my hoodie and the t-shirt underneath, I show her the Boston Terrier wearing a football helmet that’s inked on the left side of my chest.
Her large eyes trace over the tattoo before skimming along the rest of my bare skin. Her cheeks pinken before her chin tucks to her chest. “That’s great work,” she tells me, her brow puckered as she begins to decorate the piggy bank.
Righting my clothing, I follow her lead and slowly sketch the outline of a Christmas wreath in the center of the white platter. I wind a ribbon around the circle and add ornaments and berries where I think they belong. Setting the pencil down for a quick break, I crack my knuckles and roll my wrist from side to side. Having a cast on for a month has made it weak. I can’t wait to start physical therapy later this week.
“Eliza, would you like a bottle of water or a soda?”
“No, thanks.” She shakes her head and keeps working on her bank. Her tongue peeks out of the corner of her mouth as she focuses. She seems really into what she’s doing and that makes me inordinately happy. Painting is a great way to lose yourself and forget the everyday stresses we carry around everywhere we go; like a heavy suitcase.
“What are you drawing?” I lean over and try to sneak a glance.
She flips her head my way and smirks. “I’ll show you when I’m done.”
“I can’t wait to see it.”
Gripping the pencil, I begin to sketch a Boston Terrier in the middle of the wreath. I add two large, pointed ears and top his head with a Santa hat.
“Do I get to see yours?” Eliza pulls my attention her way.
“When I’m finished.” I wink. “You should have seen Clancy and me when his mom asked us to help her with the youth group. We both adamantly refused, but then his dad insisted that Clancy be there to make sure his mom was safe. I wasn’t about to let him go through it alone. We thought we were too badass to paint some pottery until we saw how much fun the kids were having. Once we jumped in, we realized how beneficial it could be for us.”
“How so?”
“It helped us concentrate. We learned to focus on the piece we were working on and examine it from every angle. We do the same thing in our respective sports, just on a bigger scale and at a faster pace.”
“This is relaxing. It’s one of those things you can lose yourself in and forget about all your responsibilities for a bit.”
“Is it too premature to ask you if you’re having a good time on our date?”
“So far so good, unless you royally screw up the rest.”
“I’m going to get the paints ready. Any idea what colors you want to use?”
“Black, yellow, green, white, and pink.”
“You don’t have to use white. Any spot you don’t paint with color will turn white once it’s glazed and fired in the kiln.”
“We don’t get to take these home today?” She sounds disappointed.
“No, we can’t. But I can get it tomorrow when I come back to help out.”
“Okay. I can’t wait to see the finished products.”
“How do you feel about grabbing a bite to eat once we leave here? There’s a great sandwich shop a couple doors down.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“You’re enjoying my company that much, huh?”
“Uh… actually I’ve been drooling over the delicious smell since we got here and now I’m starving.”
Chapter Thirteen
Eliza
“Wow. This food smells fantastic. I’m struggling not to drool,” I comment as Owen navigates us through the late afternoon traffic that plagues the city.
“Just wait until you taste it. Between Clancy and I, we’ve tried everything on the menu and it’s all amazing.” He slows the truck down and pulls into a parking space along the curb.
“This is where you live?” I glance at the century plus old brick building with the glossy black front door.
“Yep. This is home sweet home. Hopefully, Trevor isn’t here. If he is, don’t let him talk you into giving him half of your sandwich.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. There’s no way I’m not forcing every bite of this down, even if I’m stuffed. Should you have brought him a sandwich?”
“I have two, so I could share with him, but I’ll have to see how generous I’m feeling in the moment.” He climbs out the driver’s side and is around to open my door before I have my seatbelt undone. I take his hand and he guides me up the front steps. Unlocking the door, he ushers me inside, leading me down a wide hallway. He pauses and points at a door to the left. “My friends, Nick and Carter, live there. He used to live where I do, but I took his room when he moved into his girl’s place.”
“That’s convenient that you guys are all near each other.”
We stop at the door directly across the hall and Owen slips a key into the lock. “We don’t see them as much as you’d think. They both work full-time.” He turns the knob and pushes the door open, gesturing for me to go first. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the tidy space I’m seeing. This is younger professional and less frat house. I don’t see a single poster of a hot girl in a bikini. Maybe they’re all in his room.
