“What’s the usual?” I ask, crouching down beside the puppy who’s come closer and is staring up at me as if evaluating me for some test I’m not yet aware of.
Reuben shrugs. “I’ve taken in dogs before while they look for homes. It’s sadly not an unknown circumstance on the island.”
“You take indogs?” I breathe.
He rolls his eyes. “I also had a very successful career as a photojournalist, and yet I think the dog bit is what’s going to stick with you.”
“Don’t knock it. It’s helping me to overlook your appalling character defects.”
Sansa starts to laugh, and Reuben shakes his head.
At that moment, the dog moves, placing his paws on my knees and looking straight into my face. Then he leans forward and licks my nose, making my eyes cross.
“Oh mygoodness,” Sansa whispers.
I throw my arms around his neck, feeling him nestle close. “Oh, he’s the sweetest little baby.”
“Little?” Reuben says incredulously. “That’s an Irish Wolfhound, Xavi. Look at the size of those fucking paws. He’s going to be huge.”
“He will bebeautiful, won’t you?” I croon to the dog, who promptly knocks me onto my back and climbs into my lap. I start to laugh, and the dog does a little shimmy and tries to lick my face.
“Shit,” Reuben mutters. He puts a hand out and hauls me up, and the dog instantly nestles into my knees.
“They always know,” Sansa intones. “Looks like he’s picked his person, Reuben.”
“You’re not seriously thinking about it, are you?” he breathes, staring at me as if trying to hypnotise me into saying no.
I look down at the dog and can’t stop my smile as he looks seriously up at me as if judging all my choices. The way Reuben does sometimes. “Erm, Imightbe serious.”
“What happened to no fixed abode, the world is your oyster, no time for ties?”
I narrow my eyes. “Was that supposed to be me?”
Sansa laughs, and Reuben gestures wildly. “You can’t keep a dog in a hotel.”
“Then I shall buy a house,” I say grandly.
“Oh my,” Sansa says.
“Just like that?” Reuben snaps.
I nod. “I think the more important decision is whether to have a dog, not a house.”
“I like you,” Sansa says. “Keep this one, Reuben.”
“He’s not a packet of bacon.”
“If I were, you’d certainly cook me. What shall I call him?” I muse.
“You don’t understand.” Reuben sounds fairly desperate now. “They’re big, noisy, and their hair makes a mess.”
“Well, you’re all of those things and still around.”
Sansa starts to laugh, and Reuben sags. “Fuck.”
I pat his arm. “Room for another lodger, Roo?”
I immediately blanch at the pet name that just fell out. But then his whole face softens and warms, and I can’t regret it. “Only for a little bit,” I say quickly.
