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And then Dean came in through the front door of the lobby. He was sweaty despite the chill outside, beaming, and carrying a small golden retriever puppy in one arm. “Look what I found!” he said, rushing toward our group. “The little guy was hiding in some bushes and tried to join me for my jog. I had to give him a ride for the last half. I think I’m going to name him Walter.
The four pretty girls standing at our table all shifted their eyes to Dean, and from the way their eyebrows crept up, I figured I could pretty much read their thoughts.
Hot, sweaty guy holding a puppy? Sploosh.
I wished I wasn’t splooshing right along with them.
“A puppy? Do you really think a puppy is a great idea right now?”
I’d had to watch the four girls gush over the puppy when Dean came in the lobby a few minutes ago. First, they gushed over the puppy. It wasn’t long before all the girls, except Harper, seemed to be trying to make it painfully clear that they thought Dean was gorgeous. There was the batting of eyelashes, flirtatious touches, and easy laughter.
To Dean’s credit, he cut them off after about two seconds by putting his arm around me and giving me a big kiss on the top of my head. I gave him a silent pass on the no-touching rule for that one. Good boy.
I knew the thing between us was supposed to be fake, but I felt a warm gush of appreciation toward him for how he’d handled it. He didn’t let their attention drag out to make me jealous. He simply made it as clear as he could, without being rude, that he was with me, and it had almost completely stopped the flirting.
But a dog? I was still watching the chubby little thing waddle and sniff around our room. A little while ago, it had lifted its leg and peed on my suitcase. Right now, it was rolling on its back making little grunting noises with its tongue flopping out the side of its mouth. The things eyes were adoringly pointed up at Dean as if, along with everyone else in the world, it had instantly fallen in love with him.
Dean scooped Walter up–he was set on the name, despite my protests. “Walter didn’t have anybody else. If he did, what was he doing in that bush? And there’s no collar. He needs me.”
I watched the two of them, unable to help smiling when Walter looked up with his stuffed animal eyes and gave Dean a flurry of licks with little snorts in between.
Dean smiled down and scruffed Walter behind the ears. “You needed to be rescued, didn’t you, little guy?”
“When we split after the wedding, I’m not sharing custody of him. My apartment is way too small for pets.” I’d meant it as a light joke, but didn’t expect the small jolt of anxiety the idea of splitting brought up.
Dean eyed me. “You really want to put Walter through a messy divorce?”
I sighed, but grinned. “He’s very cute. I’ll admit that.”
“And look. He likes you.” Dean put Walter down and he came up to try to play tug of war with the leg of my jeans, growling and wiggling his butt as he tried to backpedal.
I wrestled with him for a few minutes until he apparently decided he needed a spontaneous puppy nap. Walter rolled on his back with his big puppy belly up to the ceiling and his arms all tucked in. It was adorable, and I could feel myself already falling for the little guy. Damn you, Dean. The last thing I needed was to get attached to a real puppy in addition to the human shaped puppy that had been playing havoc with my feelings for over a week now.
“My mom loves you,” I said.
Dean produced an apple and took a big bite, speaking around a mouthful. “Yeah? I like her too. She’s really nice. I like all of your family, actually. Especially those guys from Alabama. Weird, but highly entertaining.”
“You really like them?”
“Hell yes. I have brothers and my little sister. My dad is… Well, he’s never really been the same since we lost Mom. He pretty much retreated into work and I think once you go too deep into something like that, you can’t ever completely come out of it. But, the point is, I never had shit like that. Family get togethers. Doting parents. A weird, perverted grandma. Scary cousins from Alabama with an unhealthy love of Crisco. It’s all great. Seriously.” He took a bite of his apple again.
“You’re talking like it’s going to keep going after this week. But we both agreed things will end after that. Didn’t we?”
“We did,” he said carefully. “And they should.” He added that last in a tone that made me unsure if it was a question or a statement.
