Page 122 of Jay Bird

“There is no so.”

“Are you still sleeping in his room?”

Willow’s mouth fell open. “Mia!”

Anna Grace burst out laughing. “What? We’re friends.”

“We’re at work!”

“It’s after hours.”

“That doesn’t magically make this appropriate.”

Mia’s grin widened.

Willow felt her cheeks heating up. “For your information, yes.”

Mia’s eyebrows shot up.

“Just sleeping,” Willow clarified quickly.

“Again, I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but your eyebrows did.”

“My eyebrows are innocent.”

Anna Grace laughed hard enough that she had to grip the counter.

Willow shook her head. “We’re taking things slow.”

“That’s good,” Mia said, her teasing giving way to sincerity. “For both of you.”

Willow nodded. She knew enough about Jay Bird’s past now to understand that slow wasn't only for her benefit. He had spent twelve years refusing to let himself imagine another future with someone. Willow had spent three years learning that intimacy came with fear.

Neither of them needed to rush; they were happy taking things one day at a time and letting their relationship grow naturally.

A chorus of high-pitched yips suddenly echoed from somewhere farther down the hallway.

Anna Grace’s eyes lit up, and Willow immediately pointed at her. “No.”

“But they are so cute.”

A litter of six black Lab puppies had been brought into the rescue center several days earlier after their owner became too ill to care for them. They were only a month old, adorable, and destructive.

Lily had met them two days ago, and it had been a terrible mistake—an adorable one, but a mistake all the same.

One particular puppy had followed Lily everywhere, chewing on her shoelaces and falling over his own feet every time she moved.

Lily had fallen hopelessly in love.

“So,” Mia began.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You’re going to tell me that one of the puppies needs a home.”