For one brief, deeply humbling second, I consider walking into the mop closet and living there forever.
Alexei looks down at the dog treat in my outstretched hand, then back at me.
I yank my hand back so fast the treat nearly flies into Bella’s water bowl.
I drop to a crouch and offer it to her instead. “There you go, baby,” I murmur, as if keeping my voice calm might reset reality.
It doesn’t.
“Did you just try to give my dad a treat?” Ivy asks.
That does it. Jules turns away completely, trying to contain his laughter.
I press my lips together so hard it hurts. “No, honey.”
She studies Alexei, then me, working it out with the full seriousness only a six-year-old can manage. “Because he’s not a dog,” she says. “He doesn’t chew shoes.”
Alexei lets out a low, brief sound, not quite a laugh, but close enough to count.
I make the mistake of looking up. His expression hasn’t changed much. He’s still composed and unreadable at first glance. But the corner of his mouth lifts just enough to tell me he’s not unaffected, which is, somehow, worse.
“Noted,” he says.
Behind me, Jules chokes into his fist. “Of course it is.”
I straighten, brushing my hands on my jeans like I can recover from this with dignity. “Well. Good. That’s… good.”
I gesture vaguely toward the next kennel like I didn’t just try to hand an insanely handsome man a dog biscuit. “This way.”
Jules mutters under his breath, “I am never lettin’ you forget this.”
“I hate you,” I whisper.
“Mm-hm.” And I know, without a doubt, this is going to follow me for the rest of my natural life.
It takes another ten minutes for me to recover enough to function like a sane adult again. By then, we’ve reached the side yard, where Daisy comes out on a leash and walks right to Ivy.
Spring in Savannah has a way of making even old brick and chain-link look charming. Azaleas bloom pink beyond the fence. The air smells like warm dirt, fresh grass, and a hint of river from downtown. Somewhere across the street, a mockingbird is putting on an entire Broadway show by itself.
Ivy holds Daisy’s leash with both hands while I keep my own around the older dog’s harness. Daisy leans into the little girl’s leg and stands there, content as could be.
“Oh,” Ivy whispers.
“She likes her,” I say quietly.
“Yes,” Alexei responds.
I look over at him. “You sound surprised.”
“I’m careful,” he says.
There’s more behind those two words than he says, and that’s enough for me to let it go.
Ivy strokes Daisy’s ears. “Can we take her home?”
Alexei crouches in front of her, suit pants and all, with no concern for the grass. “A dog is work,solnyshko.”Sunshine.
Ivy’s mouth turns down. “I know.”
