But he’d taken Barley to the lovely wooded confines of Ravenna Park too…
There was no escape. Mac guessed he’d have to rely on that old salve for all wounds—time—to help him get back to normal. Sometimes, late at night, when he was really missing Barley and his snores at the foot of his bed, he would consider getting another dog. But he couldn’t hold the idea in serious consideration for long. Right now it seemed like a betrayal, like cheating.
Mac sighed, rolled over, and forced himself to get up. It was summer. It wasn’t even four o’clock in the afternoon. He was single, thirty, and in good health, physically anyway. It was something of a crime that he should be lying around in bed, wasting his time off in this way.
Life is out there. Men are out there. Possibility is out there. Hope is out there.
Go.