Page 103 of The Birthday List (Maysen Jar 1)

“Okay.” Cole fell in step behind me as we walked up the dirt path to the truck. He opened my door, then went around to his own. His movements were stiff today, the aches from our hike yesterday likely setting in, but he hadn’t complained.

As we pulled onto the highway, he took my hand. “When we get back, how long do you think it will take you to pack up stuff for a few days?”

“Pack? Where exactly am I going?”

“To my house.” He grinned. “You’re stuck with me now.”

I smiled at Cole’s profile. He hadn’t shaved today and his jaw looked sexier, more rugged with his thick stubble. When we got to his house, my tongue was going to get up close and personal with that jaw. Packing light—or fast—had never been a strong suit, but tonight, I’d be setting a personal best. “Ten minutes. Fifteen, tops.”

And if I forgot something, I’d just swing by my place tomorrow before work. I was more than willing to get up thirty minutes earlier if that meant I got to sleep in Cole’s sleigh bed.

The only down side was that I’d have to block out the image of another woman having slept there first. “How attached are you to your bed?”

“My bed? Well, considering I just bought it a few months ago, pretty attached.”

That wasn’t what I’d expected. “You just bought it?”

“It was time for an upgrade. That one is brand new. Why?”

“Oh, just curious.” I covered my mouth, pretending to yawn, when really, I was hiding a huge smile. Cole’s house, here I come. He didn’t know it yet, but I’d just claimed that bed as mine.

His kitchen too.

We drove awhile in silence, taking in the scenery as we navigated the windy roads out of the park until we hit the main highway that would lead us back to Bozeman. Cole pulled into a gas station to fuel up and I hopped out, wanting a drink for the ride home. “I’m going to get a water. Want one?”

He nodded, digging his wallet out of his back pocket and tossing it over. “Thanks, beautiful.”

Beautiful.

I smiled at his new endearment. Pretty Poppy was still my favorite, but beautiful was a close runner-up.

Hurrying inside, I used the restroom and then got Cole and I both waters and some licorice for the rest of the trip. Just as I was coming outside, I heard a yelp from the parking lot of the farm and ranch supply store next to the gas station.

I searched for the sound just as I heard it again. The yelp was coming from an old red truck where a woman was setting out a sign next to a tire.

Puppies for Sale. $1500. Purebred German Shepherd.

My feet immediately changed direction. Fifteen hundred dollars was way too much to spend on a dog, but since looking was free and I loved puppies, one glance wouldn’t hurt.

“Hi!” I waved to the woman as I approached her truck. “Would you mind if I looked at your puppies?”

She smiled. “By all means. Please.”

I leaned over the tailgate and five pairs of brown eyes all came to me, tails wagging frantically as they licked their metal crate. “Oh my god.” Now I knew why people spent fifteen hundred dollars on a dog. One look, and I was in love. This woman could have my car if that meant one of these fur babies could come live with me.

“Pop—oh, shit,” Cole muttered, walking up. The minute he spotted the puppies and the look on my face, he knew exactly what I was planning. “So much for going to the pound and getting a rescue pup.”

I’d told Cole that I was planning on getting a puppy from the pound to satisfy Jamie’s list, but that plan was history. My next dog would have to come from the pound, because I was buying one of these puppies today. Besides . . . “These dogs need good homes too, don’t they?” I asked the woman, hoping for some support.

She just backed away, not making eye contact with a scowling Cole.

Chicken.

I’d expected her to jump right in and help me make my case to Cole as to why I was going to spend a ridiculous amount of money on a puppy.

“Cole, look how cute they are.” I turned back to the puppies. One of them—the cutest one—had retreated to the back of the cage, lounging while its siblings were still licking the crate. “Besides, it doesn’t matter where the puppy comes from. The list just said to get a dog to keep for its entire life.”

Jamie’s family had always had ranch dogs, but he’d always wanted a pet. A dog that could come inside or that he could take on jogs around the neighborhood. He’d wanted a dog to become man’s best friend, not be another employee of the Maysen ranch. This puppy was just the kind he would have gone for—probably because this was exactly the type of puppy I would have gone for.