Page 122 of Sugar & Shadows

Startled, I jumped back.

Logan grinned from the doorway. “I feel like I need to weigh in on this debate. Professionally.”

“He’s a dog,” Sabrina said. “So the question is, what breed?”

Logan scratched his beard. “Ooh. This is good.” He looked me up and down. “Not a golden. Wrong energy. And definitely not a Chihuahua.”

“High functioning and smart,” Sabrina said. “With a hero complex.”

Eyes lighting up, my friend clapped. “Lassie. You’re Lassie, dude. Total collie vibe.”

Sabrina smiled widely, hands on her hips.

“Works constantly, because if he doesn’t feel useful, he spirals.” Logan laughed.

“Also very responsive to praise,” Sabrina added. “Tell him he did a great job cleaning the oven.”

Logan smirked. “Best I’ve ever seen.”

I narrowed my eyes, attempting to glare, but only ended up breaking into laughter.

“See? Peak collie energy.”

“This conversation,” I said, between heaving breaths, “is both ridiculous and unproductive.”

“Sure,” Logan said. “She clocked you.”

He gave Sabrina a mock salute, then sauntered back to the living room.

“Now get back to work on the fridge,” she said. “We’ll give you a cookie later.”

I grumbled, feigning annoyance, but in truth, I was grateful they were here.

Eventually, my parents and Laurie headed out, and quickly after, Logan yawned widely and checked his phone.

“Need to go to the office. Have a vaccine clinic tonight.”

“You’re still on the clock?” Sabrina asked.

He laughed. “I’m always on the clock. But I might even have time to shower first.” Wandering toward the door in that lazy fashion of his, he pointed at her. “Be nice to my boy.”

She nodded.

Once the door shut behind him, I collapsed on the couch, marveling at how pretty the wood on the coffee table was. I hadn’t seen its surface in years.

“This feels amazing,” I said. “Thank you.”

She sat at the far end and turned so she faced me. “You’re welcome.”

“I see you, Sabrina Monroe. You care.”

“Me?” She gasped, her hand flying to her chest.

I bit my lip. She was cute like this—silly and tired and unguarded.

“How about we make a deal?” she suggested. “You take care of yourself, and I’ll take care of myself. This kid needs us at our best. We’re not exactly top-shelf parenting material right now.”

“Speak for yourself,” I joked, even as her words seeped into my soul. “Sure, there are some things I need to work on. But I’m ready. Everything’s changed.”