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The man with the puppy turned to look at her and she knew right away it was Rick Masters. Holy cow, he was even sexier wrangling the puppy trying to come toward her nephew.
6
Fallen In Love
Rick was trying to figure out how he ended up with a fifteen-pound boxer puppy. Not even one that was mixed. Or so the vet didn’t think.
Somehow a few days ago he’d found himself at the shelter and his sister laughed when he walked in. It’s like she knew he’d do it.
He’d taken one look at the three boxer pups and had fallen in love. Choosing one was much harder, but George was the first one at him and not moving away. He’d picked the pup up, his body wiggling and the rest was history.
He couldn’t bring the dog home though until he’d had his shots and was checked over by the vet. Yesterday he did and Rick was positive neither of them got any sleep last night. At least until George ended up in his bed.
Robin told him to exercise the puppy a lot and he’d sleep more, so that was what he decided to do when he walked to the park. He was about to turn around and go back, but he’d noticed the woman and little boy. The toddler started to yell and point and took off running until his mother got him.
When he’d gotten a closer look he realized it was Gillian, the dietician, and tried to hide his embarrassment over flirting with her a few days ago.
“Rick,” she said first. “Cute dog.”
“Gillian,” he said. “Cute kid.”
She laughed. Louder and more carefree than she had in her office. “My nephew, Ben. I find him very cute.”
He couldn’t explain the relief he felt when he’d heard it wasn’t her son, then laughed when the kid was wiggling to get down. “He’s an armful.”
“Very much so,” she said. “Can he see your puppy? Maybe he’ll calm down if he can pet him.”
“Sure,” he said. “Hopefully George doesn’t knock him down. I’ll try to hold onto the harness though.”
She smiled as she brought her nephew closer. “George?”
“Yeah. You know. George Foreman. The boxer?”
“I get it,” she said.
“If I get another one I can call him George the second, then the third.”
“What?” she asked, frowning.
“George Foreman had a ton of kids. A few of them are called George.”
“Really?” she asked. She looked down and Ben was petting George, the two of them getting along fine. Ben sat on the grass and George all but crawled in his lap. “Guess I don’t know much about boxing.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “Nothing more than that. And the Foreman Grill. Maybe I should get one of them, but I’m not sure it’s manly enough for me.”
She started to laugh harder and he figured that was overkill. “You mean manly like this adorable puppy.”
“Chicks dig dogs,” he said.
The words were just coming out of his mouth without thought and he figured he might as well go with it.
“They do,” she said.
“Do you fall into that category?” he asked.
“Since I’m petting George, I’d think that was a good guess. Do you live in Paradise Place?”
“I do. Do you?”
