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Moving a step back while she scribbles away, Paige takes her delicious aroma with her.
I can’t stop myself. Under the pretense of reading what she’s writing, I stand up and hover just beside her. The coffee scent is back, clinging to her in some mysterious way.
Does coffee perfume exist?
“Here.” She tilts the clipboard my way and beams up at me.
Again, I make an inaccurate prediction. I expect her handwriting to be big and bubbly, but instead she’s written one word in small, clear script.
Pumpkin
“Pumpkin. Paige and Pumpkin.” I try out their names together, enjoying the pop of the Ps on my lips.
Her smile widens. “I’m a fan of alliteration. Besides, with that coloring, she’s practically demanding a Halloween-themed name.”
Paige hands the clipboard back to me and gets into another bout of tug-o-war.
Watching them together, I realize one more thing I was wrong about.
Paige isn’t backing out of this. That dog, Pumpkin, is hers.
She was right, that first day.
We wrap up the rest of the paperwork, including Paige filling out a check for the adoption fee. Normally, once everything is approved and paid for, I let the adopter go on their way and head back to my office. But this time, I decide to walk Paige and Pumpkin out.
I try to reason that I just want to make sure Paige is comfortable handling the big dog. The lie doesn’t even work on me.
The minute we step away from the building, I realize breaking my normal routine was a mistake.
In the bright afternoon sunlight, all the cars in the parking lot give off a shine, but none more so than a gorgeous classic Chevy. The beautiful machine has a wicked candy apple green paint job, and the shape of the body immediately brings to mind muscle cars from the 60s.
When Paige saunters up to the vehicle and sticks a key in the door, I feel my dick twitch.
This woman is bad news.
I should turn around. Right now. Go back inside where it’s safe and my life is simple.
My feet disregard the rational directions, walking me closer to the gorgeous girl and her wet dream of a car.
Paige pulls open the back door, and I see multiple thick dog beds on the seat, along with a pile of plush toys. Pumpkin ignores them in favor of her namesake, which she’s still carrying around and squeaking. The dog hops up into the backseat, pretty as you please.
My eyes can’t seem to decide where to settle. The fantasy of a car, or the fantasy of a woman. When Paige turns to me with a bone-melting smile, the choice becomes easier, though not necessarily healthier.
“I think we’re all set. Thank you, Dash. For making sure Pumpkin and I ended up back together.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “We’re going to be good for each other. I’m sure of it.”
The sight of the over-the-top preparation connects with some of Paige’s earlier comments in my mind, clicking into place to form a sudden realization.
“Paige?”
She had moved to slide off Pumpkin’s leash but turns back to me.
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever owned a dog before?”
She grimaces, and my stomach clenches in worry.
“Is it that obvious?” Her hand presses on her collarbone as she gives me a pleading look. “I know it’s all new to me, but I can figure it out. I swear.”
