Knitted Hearts by Amber Kelly

Sonia

Ifeel lousy, rushing Edith home from church and taking off so fast. I usually come in and have lunch and chat for a bit before I leave, but today, all I can think about is getting home, picking up George, and heading for the park.

I race into my apartment, and I do a quick change from my dress to a pair of jeans and a chocolate-brown off-the-shoulder sweater. I pull on my dark brown cowgirl boots.

I fish a thermal-insulated cooler backpack from the back of my pantry and load it with paper products, a couple of ham and Swiss cheese sandwiches, chips, a bag of grapes, a couple of bottles of water, some puppy kibble, and a few chicken treats. Then, George and I head out to meet the boys.

When I turn into the parking lot, I see Foster’s truck is already here, so I pull up next to him. I put on George’s new pink harness vest and hook the retractable leash to it.

“Ready to go see our guys?” I ask her as I pick her up from her booster seat and hop out of the car.

I fetch the backpack from the backseat and go in search of them.

We find Foster and Sue on the soccer field. Foster is in jeans and a black thermal and boots. His thick, wavy hair looks like he hopped out of the shower, ran his hands through it a few times, and walked out the door.

He’s throwing a tennis ball, and Sue is chasing it down, but he hasn’t quite gotten the retrieving part down, so Foster follows, picks the ball back up, and tosses it again as Sue barks and takes off after it.

George spots the fun and starts impatiently pulling me in their direction.

“There they are,” Foster calls to Sue as we approach.

Sue runs up and starts jumping at my feet. I reach down and pet him, and he trots off to say hello to George.

I release her from the leash, and the two of them run off together and roll around on the grass.

Foster walks over to me and places a quick kiss on my lips before relieving me of the backpack. Then, he takes my hand and leads me to a shady spot under a tree off to the side of the field, where he has a blanket spread out with a cooler.

We sit together, facing the place where the puppies are playing.

“It’s crazy how much I love her already,” I tell him.

“I’m pretty attached to Sue too. The rascal has managed to end up out of his crate and in bed beside me every night this week,” he confesses.

“Oh no, you’ll never get him sleeping in his crate again.”

“I know. I’m not supposed to feed him from the table either, but he and I share a plate of scrambled eggs every morning and last night I even fried us up a steak for dinner.”

I look at him with my mouth open in shock.

“And you thought I was the one who was going to spoil George,” I accuse.

He shrugs. “I know. I’m a sucker.”

I smile. “I guess there are worse things a man can be than a pushover puppy dad.”

His hand finds mine on the blanket, and he threads our fingers together. We sit and watch the pups chase each other.

“Should we join them? I read the sign when we walked up, and it said all dogs are to remain on a leash while inside the park,” I inform him.

“I think we’re safe. I haven’t seen any police patrolling. Besides, it’s not like those two monsters are going to chase down a jogger and knock them on their ass or start humping their leg or anything. They might lick their ankles to death, but that’s about it.”

Smart-ass.

We spend the afternoon soaking up the sunshine, eating our sandwiches, playing with George and Sue, and talking about all the things. He’s genuinely interested in everything about me. He asks about work, my family, and even my future goals.

“I got my divorce papers in the mail this week, and I signed and returned them. So, as of the end of this month, I’ll legally be a single woman,” I tell him.

“I filed as well. Wendy says she signed and dropped them in the mail. If she’s telling the truth, which is a big if, we should be officially divorced by the end of the year.”

“Look at us, doing grown-up stuff,” I say.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s like I’ve been in a holding pattern for almost a year. Not single, but not married anymore. I hate the limbo.”

“Does that mean you’re available for a second date?” he asks.

“I thought we were currently on our second date.”

He smiles. “Third, then?”

“Hmm.” I tap my chin. “We’ll have to see how the rest of this one goes before I commit to anything,” I tease.

“Challenge accepted,” he declares, and then he cups my face and brings my lips to his.

I open to him, and he deepens the kiss as he goes to his back on the blanket. I follow him down, and he feeds a knee between my legs, so I’m flush on top of him, chest to chest.

His arms come around me and hold me tight to him.

He breaks the kiss, and we are nose to nose.

“How’s it going so far?” he asks against my mouth.

“So-so,” I answer.

He grins.

One minute, I’m on top, and the next, he has me flipped to my back. He comes over me, and he grazes my earlobe with his teeth.

Oh, I like that.

I moan my approval.

“And now?” he whispers in my ear.

“Getting better,” I answer.

He brings his mouth back to mine and kisses me again. This kiss is different from before. It’s not soft or sweet. It’s demanding and needy, and I feel it all the way to my toes.

I lace my hands in his hair and hold on.

I don’t think anyone has ever kissed me so thoroughly, and here we are, in a public park, in the middle of the day, and Foster has my body on fire.

“And now?” he asks as he lifts his head to look into my eyes.

“I think a third date is in order,” I admit.

“Damn right it is,” he says.

Then, he rolls over and sits up. He helps me up, and then he pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me. I feel his chin fall to my shoulder, and his cheek nestles into mine.

“The kids are going to eat that frog,” he says as we watch them pouncing around, chasing the frog that is leaping across the field.

“We should probably intervene,” I say.

He sighs. “Yep.”

I stand and reach down to help him up, and we take off running after them, shouting the whole way.