Shannon sat in Jeremiah’s backyard, her hands still scented like machinery. But it was worth it. Seeing his face. Kissing his lips. Hearing him say he loved her. All worth going over to his parents’ house and mowing their lawn.
And she’d been right. The line didn’t go in the way his father was trying to make it, and Jeremiah had fixed it and finished the trimming. He’d fixed her too, in an indirect way, sure. But it was still because of him that she’d gone back to therapy, that she’d found a way to heal the hurt in her life, that she’d decided to be herself, be brave, and branch out.
“Well, at least Shiloh gets along with Hercules,” he said, watching the two dogs as they laid next to each other.
“Everyone gets along with Hercules,” Shannon said.
“I can’t believe you got a dog,” he said
