Sweet Little Lies Part 7

Thor didn't budge.

"A doggie biscuit," she said cajolingly. "If you get up right now I'll give you a doggie biscuit."

Nothing. This was probably because he knew as well as she did that she was out of doggie biscuits. She would have just left him home alone but the last time she'd done that, he'd p.o.o.ped in her favorite boots-which had most definitely taken some time and effort on his part.

"Fine." She tossed up her hands. "I'll buy biscuits today, okay? And we'll go see Jake too."

At the name, Thor perked up. He knew that Jake kept dog cookies in his desk so he lifted his head, panting happily, one ear up and the other flopped over and into his eye.

She had to smile. "You're the cutest boot p.o.o.per I've ever seen. Now let's. .h.i.t it. We're going to run first if it kills us."

Thor hefted out a sigh that was bigger than he was but got up. She clipped his Big Dog leash on him, and off they went.

They ran through Fort Mason, along the trail above the water. Not that they could see the water today. The early morning fog had slid in so that Pru felt like she had a huge ball of cotton around her head. They came out at the eastern waterfront of the Port of San Francisco, constructed on top of an engineered seawall on reclaimed land that gave one of the most gorgeous views of the bay.

It was here that Thor refused to go another step. He sat and then plopped over and lay right in front of her feet.

A guy running the opposite way stopped short. "Did you just kill your dog?"

"No, he doesn't like to run," she said.

Clearly not believing her, he started to bend down to Thor, who suddenly found a reserve of energy-or at least enough to lift his head and bare his teeth at the strange man who'd dared to get too close.

The guy jumped back, tripped over his own feet, and fell on his a.s.s.

"Oh my G.o.d. Are you all right?" she asked.

He leapt back up, shot her a dirty look, and ran off.

"Sorry," she called after him and then glared down at Thor. "You do know that one of these days someone's going to call animal control on me and get you taken away, right?"

He closed his eyes.

"Come on, get up." She nudged him with her foot. "We've got a little bit more calorie annihilating to do."

Thor didn't budge an inch except to give her the low growl now.

"You know what? Fine. We'll risk not fitting into our bathing suits. I don't like swimming anyway," she said, happy enough for the excuse to stop. They walked the rest of the way to the Aquatic Park Pier, which curved out into the bay, giving the illusion of standing out on the water.

A wind kicked up and she was glad to not be out on the water. "Going to be choppy," she said. Which meant at least one person per tour would get seasick. Not that it was her problem. "No throw-up on my calendar today."

Thor, comfy in her lap, licked her chin. He didn't mind throw-up. Or poo. The grosser the better in his opinion. Setting the dog down, she craned her neck and took in the sight of Ghirardelli Square behind them. It wasn't out of her way to walk over there, but if she did she'd buy chocolate and then she'd have to run tomorrow too. She was debating that when Thor was approached by a pigeon who was nearly bigger than he was.

Thor went utterly still, not moving a single muscle, the whites of his eyes showing.

The pigeon stopped, c.o.c.ked its head, and then made a faux lunge at Thor.

Thor turned tail and ran behind Pru's legs.

"Hey," she said to the pigeon. "Don't be a bully."

The pigeon gave her a one-eyed stare and waddled off.

Pru scooped up Thor. "I need to get you gla.s.ses because you just frightened a full-grown man and then cowered from a bird."

Thor blinked his big eyes at her. "Wuff."

At the sound, the pigeon stopped and turned back. In her arms, all tough guy now, Thor growled.

Pru laughed. "I'm setting you down now, Mr. Bada.s.s. We're going to run into work real quick to pick up another box of my stuff-"

Thor cuddled into her, setting his head on her shoulder, giving her the big puppy eyes.

"Oh no you don't with that look," she said. "I'm not carrying you all the way there."

He licked her chin again.

She totally carried him all the way there.

"Jake!" she yelled as she and Thor entered the warehouse on Pier 39 from which SF Bay Tours was run. "Jake?"

Nothing. Besides being her boss, Jake was her closest friend, and for one week awhile back, he'd also been her lover. They hadn't revisited that for many reasons, not the least of which was because Pru had a little problem. She tended to fall for the guys she slept with.

All two of them.

The first one, Paul, had been her boyfriend for two whole weeks when her parents had died. And since she'd fallen apart and he'd been eighteen and not equipped to deal with that, he'd bailed. Understandable.

Jake had been next. He'd loved her, still did in fact, but he wasn't, and never would be, in love with her. And the truth was, she hadn't fallen in love with him either. She actually wasn't sure she was made for that kind of love, receiving or giving. She wanted to be. She really did. But wanting and doing had proven to be two entirely different beasts. "Jake!"

"Don't need to yell, woman, I'm not deaf."

With a gasp, she whirled around and found him right there. She hadn't heard him come up behind her, but then again, she never did.

Jake had been in Special Forces, which had involved something with deep-sea diving and a whole lot of danger, and in spite of it nearly killing him, he hadn't lost much of his edge. He hadn't smiled when she'd nearly jumped out of her skin but he'd thought about it because his eyes were amused.

Thor was not. When Pru had jerked, he'd gone off, barking at a pitch that rivaled banshees in heat. "Thor, hush!" she said and turned to Jake, hand to her heart. "Seriously, you take five years off my life every time you do that. And you gave Thor epilepsy."

Jake didn't apologize, he never did. The man was a complete tyrant. But a softie tyrant, who held out his arms for Thor.

The poor dog was still barking like he couldn't stop himself, eyes wide.

"You're such a p.u.s.s.y," Jake told him.

"Excuse me," Pru said. "You know he can't see very well and you scared him half to death. And h.e.l.lo, he's a dude. Which means you two share the same plumbing. So he's not a p.u.s.s.y, he's a big, male baby."

"He doesn't have my plumbing, chica," Jake said. "I might not have my legs but at least I still have my b.a.l.l.s." And with that, he pushed off on his wheelchair, coming closer as he pulled something from his pocket.

A dog cookie.

He held it up for the gone-gonzo dog to see and Thor stopped barking and leapt to him without looking back.

Jake whirled his chair around, and man plus dog took off.

Pru rolled her eyes and followed them past the NO ONE BUT CREW PAST THIS DOOR sign, down a hall, then down another to a living area. "We're not staying," Pru said. "I'm just picking up one of the last boxes of my stuff."

"If you'd just use my truck, you could move all your stuff in one fell swoop instead of in a million stages," Jake said. "And I told you I'd help."

"I don't want your help."

He let out a rare sigh and rolled around to face her. "You're still mad that I kicked you out of the nest."

"No." Yes.

He caught her hand when she went to walk by him, looking up at her. "You remember why, right?"

"Because your sister's getting divorced and she needs the room you'd lent me here at the warehouse," she intoned.

"And . . .?"

"And . . ." She blew out a breath. "You're tired of me."

"No," he said gently. "We agreed that I was a crutch for you. That you needed to get out and live your life."

"We?" she asked, her voice a little brittle. Because okay, she wasn't mad at him. She was . . . hurt.

Even as she knew he was right.

They'd been friends since her nineteenth birthday, when she'd applied for a job at SF Tours. He'd just recently left the military and had been through some painful recovery time, and was angry. She'd lost her parents and was equally angry. They'd bonded over that. He sent her for Maritime training and guided her way up the ranks. She couldn't have done it without him and was grateful, but she'd outgrown needing his help on every little thing. "Look," she said. "I'm doing what we both agreed needed to be done. I moved on, I'm getting back on the horse, blah blah."

Jake's mouth smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's more than getting on the d.a.m.n horse. I want you to want to get back into the game of life."

She sighed. "There's a reason no one plays Life anymore, Jake, the game's stupid. Important life decisions can't be made by a spin of a d.a.m.n wheel. If it was that easy, I'd spin it right now and get my parents back. I'd make it so that they didn't kill someone else's dad and put all those others in the hospital, changing and ruining people's lives forever. I'd make it so that I could go back a few s.p.a.ces on the d.a.m.n board and stay home that night so that no one had to go out and pick me up at a party I should never have sneaked out to in the first place." She let out a rough breath, a little surprised to find out just how much she'd been holding in. Sneaky little things, emotions.

"Pru," Jake said softly, pained.

She pulled her hand free. "No. I don't want to talk about it." She really didn't. It took a lot of time and effort to bury the feelings. Dredging them up again only drove her mad. She moved to leave but Jake wheeled around to stop her exit.

"Then how about we talk about the fact that you've now helped everyone involved that night?" he said. "You sold the Santa Cruz house you grew up in-the only home you ever knew-to be able to put college scholarships in the hands of the two boys of that woman who was. .h.i.t crossing the street-even though she survived. You even became friends with them. h.e.l.l, I now employ Nick in maintenance and Tim said you were helping him find a place to live now that he's out of the dorm-"

"Okay now wait a minute," she said. "I'm not some d.a.m.n martyr. I sold the house, yes, but I did it because I couldn't handle the memories. I was eighteen, Jake, it was just too much for me." She shook her head. "I didn't give all of that money away. I went to school, I had expenses, I kept what I needed-"

"-Barely. And then there was Shelby, in one of the other cars, remember her? You gave her seed money she needed after her surgery to move to New York like she always wanted."

"I gave her some help, yes," she admitted. "Did you know she still limps?"

"You're still in touch with her?" he asked in disbelief.

She huffed out a breath. "Subject change, please."

"Sure. Let's move on to the O'Riley brothers. You made sure they got your parents' life insurance money, which they presumably used for education and to start their pub. So what now, Pru? It should finally be time to leave the past in the past, but it's not, so you tell me. What's really going on here?"

Yeah, Pru. What was going on? She drew in a breath of air, willing herself not to remember-and grieve-the home she'd sold, everything she'd given up. "He's not happy," she said.

"Who's not?"

"Finn. I want him to be happy."

Jake was shaking his head. "Not your deal."

"But it feels like my deal," she said. "Everyone else is happy, even his brother, Sean. I have to try and help him." Then she told him about the wish and he stared at her like she'd lost her marbles.

"He's going to fall for you," he said. "You know that, right? You have to tell him the truth before that happens, you have to tell him who you are first."

She snorted. "He's not going to fall for me."

Jake smiled, and this time it did reach his eyes. "Believe me, chica, you flash those eyes on him, that smile, some sa.s.s . . . he's as good as flat on the ground for you. And you know how I know?"

She shook her head.

"Because I've been there, done that."

"But you didn't stay flat on the ground."

Something flashed through his eyes at that. Regret. Remorse. "That's on me, Pru, not you. And you know it."

Jake didn't do love. He'd told her that going in and he'd never faltered, which wouldn't change the fact that he intended to keep her in his life. He'd proven that by being there for her through thick and thin, and there'd been a whole lot more thin than thick. She'd been there for him as well and always would be. But there were limits now, for both of them.

"Tell me about Finn," he said.

"You already know. He runs O'Riley's. He's loyal to his brother, he's protective and good to his friends, and . . ."

"And?" Jake asked.

And he kisses like s.e.x on a stick . . . "And he works too hard."

"And you think what?" he asked dubiously. "That you're going to change that?"

"He needs a life," she said far more defensively than she'd meant to. "He was robbed of his."

"Not your fault, Pru," Jake said with firm gentleness.

"Well I know that."

"Do you?"

"Yes!" she said, not gently.

"Then why are you working your way into his life?"