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Stepping onto the landing where moths are already divebombing the light, he turns. “Will he come home tonight?”
I wrap myself in my arms. The temperature has dropped lower than usual this early in the fall—but my shiver is more of a nervous thing. “Yes. I—”
An excited yap interrupts. The Parsons’ bubbly Maltipoo flies up the steps, paws John’s slacks, then wiggles at my feet, begging for love. I dip down and scoop the fluffball into my arms. “Hey, buddy. You’re not supposed to be out here.”
Squirming, he licks my cheek, and I giggle. I never can help myself with him. He puts a smile on my face every time. We have a connection, and he makes me want a dog of my own. Sadly, I can’t afford an extra mouth to feed. Well, that’s what I tell myself…
It’s hard to be composed with the squiggly ball of cuteness in my arms. I finally settle him enough for another glance at John, whose expression, fixed on the pair of us, is enigmatic. The ends of his lips turn upward. He reaches over, ruffling the fluff on the dog’s head. “Who’s this guy?”
“He lives next door.” I press my cheek into his furry neck. “This is Blakely.”
Smirking, John gets eye to eye with my biggest fan. “Sorry, dude. That’s rough.”
“I know, right?” I laugh, half at John’s sentiment and half at another swipe of Blakely’s tongue across my chin. “I’m sorry. I’ll take him home in a minute—”
Blakely’s eager, wet nose slicking my face is too much. “Hold on a second.” I step to the end of the sofa and retrieve a box I stash between it and the end table. I manage to dump out two bone-shaped treats without spilling the rest. Blakely snatches the first from my hand, crunching away while I hold the other.
“Ahem.”
“Sorry. He doesn’t takenovery well.” I press his face to mine. “Besides, Blakely loves me. He and I have a special connection.”
John shoots a pointed glance to the box. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, Hollie, but—”
I free a hand from the furball and make a stop sign in the air. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
He coughs out a real laugh. His eyes, fast on me, wrinkle around the edges.
Warmth creeps up my neck. I’m not normally so…open. I pull myself back together. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”
Hands at his waist, John eyes Blakely and me. For the life of me, I can’t read this man! “Uh, actually, I think you were saying something.”
Oh, right. “Yes, Jacob will come home. At least, I think he will. He’s never stormed off like that before.”
John finally releases me and Blakely from his stare. Gaze sweeping the distance, he slides his hands into his pockets. “I’m glad to hear it.” He starts down the staircase, pivoting at its midpoint. “By the way, I was wrong too.”
I have to squeeze tight to keep Blakely in place. “About what?”
“You were right, Hollie. Jacob is a good kid.”
Chapter 5
John
“How’s the woman?”
I pause my search for my dress socks. “What’s that?”
“The woman you’re helping. How’s it going with that?”
I turn from Walker’s smug smirk, dig the socks from my gym bag, and sit on the bench. “Who says anything’s going on?” That was days ago.
“Just a feeling I have.”
“Mind your own business, Walker.”
He laughs as I begin threading a sock over my toes.
Still chuckling, he plops onto the bench a few feet away and does the same. My hands feel mildly unsteady, the result of low blood sugar and stupid weighted dumbbells. Blasted workout—but the pup over there is somehow still feeling his oats. Not fair.
