Page 10 of Carver’s Craving

I blinked.

He shrugged. “You said I was the first guest. Or do you have a boyfriend and I’m the first non-romantic interest who’s visited?”

“Uh—” I swallowed. “No romantic interests. No guests. Just me and the dogs. We’re good.” Defiance and defensiveness rose within me.

He held out his hands as if to placate me. Much as he had with Poppin. “No judgement here. I’m single right now.”

“You and Baxter…?” Because sometimes they’d hooked up and other times, they dated other people.

“Ugh. Nope. Not since—” He winced. “He got married. You remember Arlene, right?”

“Yeah. Didn’t that end? Is he with someone new now? I frowned. “Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” Baxter swung both ways. Hell, he swung every way.

“No one since he and Arlene split. Things were rough for a while, even after the divorce. In the end, he decided he didn’t want the drama. We both needed a fresh start. Hence heading for Vancouver.”

“You almost made it.”

He grabbed his bag and then headed over to the couch. He petted Walter on the head. “You’re a cutie. Promise me we can cuddle?”

Walter licked Styx’s hand.

Yep. That dog’s a sucker for a cute guy.

So am I.

“Milk? Juice? Pop? I have a few cans.”

“Water’s fine.”

“Okay.” I watched him go, noticing he jiggled his butt a bit. Oh God, that’s one damn fine ass. An ass I wasn’t going to have.

A memory stirred.

Of my one-night stand from last night.

Steven.

I considered, for the thirtieth time, whether I was too hasty in shutting down my account on the hookup app. Maybe he might’ve wanted a repeat—even though we’d both been clear going into last night that this was going to be a onetime deal.

Shaking my head, I poured two glasses of water, added ice, and put them on the table.

Styx returned and cut the tomato as I put mayo, mustard, cheese and ham on the sandwiches. He added the tomato, and then we sat to eat.

Walter continued to watch us from his perch on the couch while Poppin had taken up residence at Styx’s feet.

I gestured to her. “Watch out. She’s terribly optimistic that you’ll drop something. Please don’t.”

He frowned. “You think I’d purposely drop something on your floor?”

This time, I considered. “Well, she’s got those puppy-dog eyes. But everyone here is on a strict diet—”

“Including yourself? Because you’re looking mighty fine.”

For a moment, I was too stunned to speak. After a deep breath, I continued. “Strict diet. There are, uh, special things they receive, but even those are dished out carefully.”

“Oh?” He bit into his sandwich.

“I already told you they’ve got health issues. I don’t want to add being overweight to that mix. Dr. Zephyra has created a menu plan that works for my two. After I’m finished with lunch, they’ll each get a little something.”