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  Wednesday Walks & Wags

  Melissa Storm

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Recipes

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  WEDNESDAY WALKS & WAGS

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  Teaser chapter

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by Melissa Rayner

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-2666-7

  Kensington Electronic Edition: September 2020

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2666-7

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-2666-9

  To Falcon—

  My one, my only, my always love

  Chapter 1

  Bridget Moore hesitated over the last of her boxes, letting her fingertips hover less than an inch from the taped-up flaps. Might it be better to leave the offensive cardboard container sealed up tight and pushed into the back of her closet where she could forget about it all over again?

  That was the thing about moving.

  You packed up your life into a series of boxes and prayed they would fit in well where you were going next. Sometimes once-precious belongings needed to be tossed, donated, or passed on to a friend, and sometimes the things you most wished to part with clung to the edges of your life like pesky, persistent burrs.

  Bridget’s hands shook as she brought them closer to the box, then let them fall to her side. She moved to the window that overlooked the courtyard and stared down at the yellow-green grass. Spring breakup had ended, and now Alaska’s warm season was on its way in. The world around her became greener with each day. If the apartment brochure could be trusted, soon the space would fill out with a cascade of beautiful blooms in almost every color of the rainbow.

  She watched as a man jogged through the space with two energetic huskies in tow. They picked up speed and soon zoomed out of view, but not soon enough. Her own dogs had noticed their neighbors and were now barking in an off-key chorus. Rosco and Baby, the rottie and pit bull mix she’d rescued from the shelter a few months back, both had deep, menacing barks. Meanwhile, Teddy, her Pomeranian, had a high, grating bark that sounded at random intervals throughout the day.

  Luckily she had found a complex that not only allowed dogs but celebrated them. They even had an after-dinner walking club that allowed neighbors to spend time together and get to know one another, all while giving their apartment-bound canines the exercise they craved. Sure, the place came at a steep cost, but after being evicted from her last residence for illegally bringing pets into the building, she was not taking any chances.

  Living here would be a blessing for both her and her canine family, but it did mean that she had to restrict her volunteer work at the shelter to one day per week so that she could pick up more paid shifts at the veterinary office where she worked as a technician while finishing her own DVM degree on the side. She lived on the far Southside of Anchorage, so far that it was almost out of city bounds, so far that it now took fifteen minutes or more to drive to work and to each of her friends’ houses.

  She knew that the added bit of distance wouldn’t change anything with her friends, not when they’d already been through so much together. They’d met more than a year ago at the hospital, of all places. Each was taking care of a parent undergoing chemotherapy. Bridget’s mother had been the first diagnosed, but the last to die. Her breast cancer had been in remission for years, so long that her family didn’t even think to worry about it anymore.

  Until it came back, and that was that.

  Oh, her mom had fought hard, and it had been enough . . . the first time.

  The second time, the disease had advanced too quickly, and her mother was already weakened by the first battle.

  Bridget still missed her every day. Yes, she tried to stay busy so she wouldn’t have time to think about how much she missed her mom, but she had so many memories and so many stimuli to trigger them.

  That last box of hers was where she tried to keep them stashed away. Notable among the contents were her baby blanket, her mother’s engagement ring, and—of course—the scrapbook she and her friends had prepared on the day of her mom’s funeral. It gave Bridget comfort to know that they were all nearby but also safely contained.

  Her dogs went nuts again, drawing her away from her wandering thoughts. She peered through the window and spotted the man with the huskies returning. The dogs were gorgeous, one black and white and one all white—probably not a husky at all, now that she thought about it. The man had white-blond hair and very pale skin even though he obviously spent time outdoors. Probably took a standing bath in sunscreen before heading outside, she thought with a sad smile.

  Bridget herself had never had this problem. Because she was part Inuit on her father’s side, her skin turned an alluring shade of light brown after mere minutes in the sun. She often joked that she had two looks—goth girl in the winter, and proud native in the summer. Her dark hair and eyes never altered, but her skin could change so much from season to season that she had quickly given up on trying to wear makeup. Better to have tired eyes than a face covered in the wrong color and sporting a clear line of demarcation at her jaw.

  Man and dogs disappeared into one of the side stairwells, and Bridget scooped
Teddy into her arms to calm him down. Otherwise the Pomeranian could easily bark for ten more minutes from the pure excitement of spotting another dog.

  Jeez. Just how long had she been standing there hesitating over that box?

  The sun still hung high in the sky, but that meant nothing this time of year. With the solstice approaching, it wouldn’t sink behind the horizon until around ten that night, which meant she’d be up until at least then herself.

  Despite having been born and raised in Anchorage, Bridget had never learned to sleep with the sun up. Even with the best sleep mask and blackout curtains her meager budget could buy, her body somehow still felt it wasn’t yet time. That’s why she had to keep busy.

  Her body was too smart, and so, too, was her heart.

  In calm moments like this, both cried out to her, demanding the things they most craved.

  Feed me mint chocolate chip ice cream, her body demanded.

  Open the box, cried her heart.

  And this was the exact reason she now carried a little extra weight around her hips and thighs. This change had come about only after her mother’s funeral, and at first Bridget didn’t even notice the added weight. When she finally realized she couldn’t quite zip her jeans any longer, she found she didn’t actually care all that much. Better to get a little chubby than to even think of giving up one of the things that made her happiest now.

  When given the choice, she always went with the thing that would make her sigh with pleasure rather than sob in agony. And that something was often ice cream.

  Okay, enough fretting over the box already.

  Bridget set Teddy on the carpet, then sent a group text to her friends: I’m all moved in. Come over and check the new place out.

  She paused, then added: Oh, and please bring ice cream.

  As their excited replies began to pour in, Bridget grabbed the box filled with memories and buried it in the back of her closet. She pushed the hangers with her maxi dresses over it to add some coverage and then covered it with a stack of folded blankets for good measure.

  She knew it wouldn’t be enough to forget the box’s presence, but it was enough to get her head back on straight so that she could focus on all the exciting things that came with her move—like new walking paths for her and the dogs, new neighbors, and maybe even new friends.

  Chapter 2

  Not even half an hour passed before Bridget’s three best friends showed up at the door to her new apartment.

  “We’re here!” Amy sang as her elderly beagle, Darwin, joined in with a spirited howl.

  “Little pig, little pig, let us in!” Hazel called in a deep, animated voice, then followed up with a honking laugh.

  Her third friend, Nichole, let out an exaggerated sigh but said nothing more. Of course, if she had, Bridget probably wouldn’t have heard it over Teddy’s excited barking, anyway.

  The little dog bounced after her as she raced toward the door and flung it open with a tremendous feeling of relief. “How’d you guys get here so fast?”

  “We may have been sitting around waiting for an invitation,” Hazel informed her with a playful wink. She was the first to push her way into the apartment, but the others were hot on her heels.

  “We’d have come even faster if we hadn’t needed to make a pit stop for ice cream.” Nichole set a reusable shopping bag down on the table and began lifting out pints of Ben & Jerry’s. Another enormous wave of relief swept over Bridget as she spied her favorite, Mint Chocolate Chunk, among the flavors.

  Leave it to pragmatic, introverted Nichole to remember the important details in life. She didn’t smile often, nor was she free with compliments, but she always showed up when it counted—and with the right flavor of ice cream.

  For all her heartache, Bridget also made sure to count her blessings. She had great friends, got along well with the family she had left, and was on her way to finishing college and securing her dream job as a certified veterinarian. Even though things were hard, they could always be so much worse. She needed to remember that.

  Why couldn’t she remember that?

  Why did what should have been a happy housewarming celebration still feel bleak and cold?

  It’s because you can’t live in the moment, her inner voice whispered, and it was right. She kept the past shut firmly in an old cardboard box while doing her best to avoid the present by staying as busy as possible.

  Only the future mattered.

  Because it would be better.

  It has to be.

  Bridget’s dogs had no trouble finding joy in the here and now. Even though Darwin wasn’t the biggest fan of other dogs, Bridget’s three practically fell over themselves trying to impress him. Teddy continued to bark and run circles around the chubby old beagle. Baby dropped his front paws to the floor and wagged his tag furiously, and Rosco gave the other dog a quick sniff, then glued himself to Nichole’s side with the clear hope that she’d packed some special treats for him, too.

  “I brought cookies!” Amy trilled as she revealed a generously sized Tupperware filled to the brim with one of her famous homemade confections. Well, famous among the four friends at least. “I came up with this recipe earlier in the week, and they’re already Darwin’s favorite thing ever.”

  The old dog untangled himself from Bridget’s hyper Pomeranian and overbearing pit bull mix, then sat himself at Amy’s feet, fixing her with a doleful expression.

  “Darwin, you’re supposed to be on a diet!” Amy scolded, but then opened the container and tossed him a cookie, anyway.

  “Are those safe for them?” Nichole asked, always the voice of reason even though she had no dogs of her own. That didn’t stop her from researching everything just for the sake of learning something new. It never failed to impress Bridget how her friend knew an extraordinary amount about almost any topic she could think of.

  Amy forced one of the treats into Nichole’s mouth before the other woman had a chance to argue. “Try it for yourself and see.”

  Anger crossed her face first, followed quickly by relief and then pleasure. “Are these for dogs or people?”

  “Both!” Amy answered proudly. “My own recipe. Safe for dogs but still yummy for people.” She cupped her mouth as if she were going to whisper a secret, but then she yelled loudly enough for the next apartment to hear. “The secret is molasses.”

  “I’ve going to have to pass,” Hazel added with a grimace. “I’m here to see Bridget’s new place, not to ruin my bridal diet.”

  “Oh, like you aren’t perfect exactly as you are,” Nichole said with a grimace of her own.

  Hazel smiled and touched her belly for a brief moment. When she noticed Bridget’s eyes on her, however, she quickly removed her hand and strode deeper into the apartment.

  “Beautiful layout,” she said, inspecting each room while the others trailed her. “Need any help with the setup?”

  Bridget chuckled at this. “Oh, Hazel, we both know I can’t afford your services. I can barely afford this apartment.”

  Hazel narrowed her eyes. “And we all know my services are always free of charge for my besties.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Bridget promised, even though she already knew what her answer would be. While Hazel was a remarkably talented and highly sought-after interior designer, she was also the worst neat freak Bridget had ever met. If she had a hand in putting together Bridget’s apartment, Hazel would no doubt expect it to be kept up to her standards.

  Bridget had always preferred clutter to cleanliness, even as a small child. It was part of the reason she knew her father and brother Caleb were happy she’d found a place of her own and moved out of the family home. The rest of that reason rested squarely with her rambunctious pack of spoiled dogs.

  “Wow, look at that view,” Amy cooed from her newly assumed spot at the large picture window. She’d always been the peacemaker of their group, and her timing now helped diffuse the growing tension. “It even comes with a cute neighbor guy,” she added, blus
hing furiously.

  Nichole and Hazel both raced to her side.

  Bridget went a bit more hesitantly.

  Sure enough, the blond man she’d seen earlier that day had reappeared. The group watched in silence as he and his two dogs cut across the courtyard and headed for the main street. Once there, they took off at a rapid clip and quickly disappeared from view.

  “Hot, healthy, and clearly loves dogs,” Amy mused, ticking off each trait on her fingers as if making some kind of valid argument here. “If I weren’t already head over heels for Trent, I’d race you to him.”

  Hazel elbowed Bridget in the ribs. “Who knew your new place also came with a new ‘boyfriend,’ eh?”

  “I guess he’s cute. Kind of hard to tell from this far away, though.” Bridget shrugged. Ever since Amy and Hazel had both found their other halves, they’d jumped headfirst into playing matchmaker for their two unattached friends.

  Nichole fought them hard whenever they so much as suggested a man she might be interested in, which left Bridget as the main target for their misguided attempts at making a love connection.

  Honestly, the last thing she needed was a romance.

  Not when she already had so much work to do on herself and not when she saw firsthand how devastated her father was after losing his lifelong partner. Bridget wasn’t sure how much more loss she could handle in her life, but she knew there’d at least be less of it if she avoided taking on anything—or anyone—new for as long as she possibly could.

  Chapter 3

  Bridget’s friends stayed for a few hours before obligations to work, family, and other commitments forced them to return home. Bridget herself had a start time of seven the next morning, when she was scheduled to assist her favorite vet with spays and neuters.

  This was a new responsibility, and one she was quite excited to add to her growing list of tech duties. While she wasn’t quite as gung ho as Nichole when it came to learning, Bridget did love to master new skills. It was one of the best ways to stay busy.