Page 76 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

"Oh, no."

Too late.

Seventy pounds of enthusiastic happiness launches itself against my good side.

I stagger backward.

Coach catches me before I lose my balance. "Easy."

The dog begins enthusiastically washing my face.

"Lucky!" Toby calls. "Down!"

Lucky has apparently never heard the word. The second dog trots calmly onto the porch, looks at the chaos, then quietly steals one of my slippers from beside the door.

I watch him walk away with it.

"...is he carrying my slipper?"

Toby sighs.

"That's Moose. He collects things."

"My slipper?"

"Apparently."

Liam points dramatically. "The wolf has claimed his prize."

"They're black labs," Toby says.

"Wolves."

"Blacks labs."

"Wolves with excellent publicists."

Caleb finally steps out of his truck carrying a toolbox.

He looks once at the dogs.

"They're not wolves."

"They're emotionally wolf shaped."

Coach mutters, "Lord, give me strength."

I can't help it. I laugh. A real laugh. The kind that starts somewhere deep in my chest before my ribs immediately reminding me why that's a terrible idea.

I grab my side. Still smiling.

Coach notices. "Worth it?"

I nod. "Definitely."

Lucky finally decides I've received enough affection, and trots into the cabin as though he owns the place.

Moose follows.