Читать книгу Wednesday Walks & Wags - Melissa Storm - Страница 17

Chapter 11

The scent of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven greeted Bridget before Amy could fully open the door to welcome her inside. Funny how her friend’s house felt more like home than her own apartment.

“Just another few minutes on the cookies,” Amy promised as Bridget bent down to say hello to the animal welcome committee. Darwin wagged his tail slowly and let out that special howl that could only come from a beagle. Amy’s cat, Belle, approached slowly and then rubbed her side against Bridget’s leg while shaking her tail like a wiggling worm.

Bridget turned awkwardly toward her friend while continuing to lavish pets on the animals. “I only texted like twenty minutes ago. How could you possibly have cookies ready?”

Amy waved off the question with a laugh. “You know me. Baked goods are life.”

When Bridget raised herself back to full height, her friend’s expression became more tender. “And I know you. Something’s wrong. Tell me.”

Bridget held her breath as she thought about how much she wanted to reveal, finally settling on, “Rough day at work.”

Amy wrapped her in a hug and swayed them both side to side. “Those are the worst.” It looked as if she might ask for more details, but the oven timer saved Bridget from having to find out for sure.

“How’s the new place?” Amy asked while using a metal spatula to move half a dozen gooey cookies onto a pair of tea plates. She handed one to Bridget and kept the other for herself. Both women, of course, dug in immediately.

“New place is good. The dogs love it,” Bridget answered around a big mouthful of melted chocolate chips and Amy’s signature salty-sweet cookie dough. “It doesn’t quite feel like home yet, though,” she added carefully.

“Have you gotten to know any of the neighbors?” Amy’s eyes closed in delight as she started in on her second cookie.

“Just one. We run the dogs together in the evenings.”

Her friend’s eyes popped open again, a smile crinkling at their corners. “It’s that guy we saw from your window. Isn’t it?”

“What? How did you know?” Something fluttered in Bridget’s chest—the beginnings of an ill-founded crush perhaps, anxiety definitely. She and Wesley had set very clear boundaries on their relationship, and she was fine with that. She didn’t need Amy or any of the others complicating it for her. Making her feel things she knew she shouldn’t.

Amy pursed her lips into a tight bow and widened her eyes. Her blond eyebrows also rose so high that she took on a cartoonish appearance. An owl, maybe. The kind that knew all the forest creatures by name but still insisted on whoo-whooing ad nauseam. “I think the more important question is, Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

Bridget shrugged. She really didn’t want to play this game—not now, not ever. Not only was Wesley all wrong for her, but this was also the absolute wrong time to add any new relationships to her life. Hobbies, yes. People, no. Always no.

“It’s only been a few weeks, and our relationship is a bit odd,” she tried to explain.

“A few weeks! You’ve been spending time with that cute guy every day for a few weeks and I had to drag it out of you to find out now?” Amy pushed her plate aside and reached her hands across the table to grasp Bridget’s.

Bridget frowned. “It’s not like that.”

“Plenty of people start off as friends. It doesn’t mean you’ll stay that way,” Amy said with a knowing wink, giving each of Bridget’s hands an enthusiastic squeeze.

“No, we’re not friends. He was very clear about that.”

She let go of Bridget and leaned back in her chair with a troubled pout. “Well, that’s weird.”

Suddenly, Bridget felt the need to defend Wesley even though a part of her definitely agreed with her friend’s assessment. “Actually, it’s refreshing. There are no expectations or anything like that. We just enjoy running together.”

Amy balked at this. “Uh-huh. So when can we meet him? Oh, you should invite him to come to the Potluck Club this Sunday. I can bring Trent, and Hazel can bring Keith, so he won’t be the only guy.”

“So it looks like a date, you mean? No way.” Bridget shook her head vigorously. This was a bad idea all around.

Suddenly, Amy lightened, taking on her normal easy air and letting all the pressure flit away. “You said you’re not friends, but you didn’t say that you’re not something more.”

“We’re not.”

She let a small smile slip across her face, then called it back almost immediately. “Right. Yeah, of course.”

“I’m not bringing him,” Bridget insisted, studying her half-eaten plate of cookies.

Perhaps coming here had been a bad idea. Then again, she hadn’t known Amy would be in prime matchmaking mode today. Should she have told Amy more about the awful talk with Dr. Kate that morning to avoid being harassed about Wesley? She’d sought out her friend for comfort but instead was given the choice of two topics she preferred not to talk about.

And cookies.

At least there were cookies.

“Maybe not this week, but we’ll welcome him in eventually. I just know it.” Amy popped to her feet and sauntered back into the kitchen to grab more cookies. It was a wonder she stayed so thin given her giant sweet tooth. If Bridget didn’t already love her, she’d probably hate her.