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“We always had a dog. I’d love a dog but I don’t feel like it would be fair to an animal with my strange schedule. Sloane has two dogs, so that usually keeps Finn happy. But puppies are really tempting. How can I say no to my kid?”
Sullivan looked like he was being drawn in by a siren’s call. His expression was tormented. Edwina laughed. “I’m not sure Finn is the issue here. You look like everything you’ve ever wanted is being dangled in front of you right now and you have to resist the urge to snatch it.”
He glanced at her, blue eyes darker than normal. “Not everything.”
Her heart just about skipped a beat. What did that mean? His wife? She wasn’t sure. “Sometimes you have to trust your gut.”
“Is that what you do? Trust your gut?”
“No,” she said, honestly. “I usually overthink things in an endless circle before defaulting to what other people suggest for me. I think I left my gut instincts on the ice.”
“I think I avoid things.”
That would explain his endless bed hopping. He was avoiding dealing with the loss of his wife. She studied him. His gaze had gone back to the dogs again.
“Maybe just go look at the puppies,” she said. “If you click with one, why not, right?”
His head swiveled back so he was eyeing her with suspicion and just a hint of hope. “I’m living in temporary housing, with you, Ed. That’s why not.”
Her gut was telling her she wanted to see Sullivan and Finn happy.
For once, she wanted to listen to that first instinct. “I think I can handle a puppy for a couple of days,” she said.
“This is a bad idea,” he muttered, even as he picked up speed and crossed the last few remaining feet to the puppy pen.
Finn was leaning over petting a buttercup-colored ball of fluff.
Her experience with dogs was limited so she had no idea what the breed was, but it was adorable.
“Hey, guys!” Winnie said, cheerfully, glancing back and forth between them. “What’s up?”
It felt like a loaded question, or maybe Edwina was just paranoid. She felt guilty for having dirty thoughts about Sullivan. Again.
“Don’t let me leave here with a puppy,” Sullivan said, even as he stepped over the fencing and squatted down to scoop up a black ball of fur.
“I’m not responsible for anyone else’s choices,” Winnie said.
“Let me in there!” Finn demanded, whining a little as he lifted his arms to be picked up.
“Okay, buddy, no whining though.”
Finn made a sound of frustration.
Sullivan lifted him up, and they both were surrounded by puppies instantly. They retreated to the far side of the pen and sat down so they could pet the dogs. Sullivan had one puppy in his lap, another up in his arms against his chest so Finn could run his fingers over the dog’s soft coat.
“So… just a Saturday morning stroll through town with Sullivan O’Toole?” Winnie asked her, voice low.
“Yes.” She refused to say anything else because there wasn’t anything else to say. “I should be working but how could I resist fire trucks and puppies?”
“Don’t forget there’s kettle corn over by the bakery.”
“Exactly. How could I turn that down? That’s basically the holy trinity of a summer Saturday morning.”
“Women find it hard to say no to Sullivan.” Her words were teasing, light.
She frowned at Winnie. “I’m not some random woman in the bar. We’re just friends. I have a boyfriend. It’s my father who offered him a place to stay, not me.”
“Of course.”
