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“You’re always welcome to join us,” Brandon said. “Plenty of tree to go around.”

Quentin’s eyes moved over to me, and my heart rate picked up a few notches.

“Anytime,” I told him.

He smiled and walked away, trying to encourage the puppy to come along with him. She wasn’t having it, though, and he ended up dragging her more than she was walking. Soon she even gave that up and relaxed completely, finally starting to roll along the grass as he walked. It didn’t seem to bother her at all, and I couldn’t help but laugh when Quentin stopped and turned around to give her a look. Rosie looked right back at him, her little tail wagging and beating against the ground. He shook his head and scooped her up, giving her another kiss and cuddling her close to his chest as he walked away.

When he was out of sight, I turned back to my brother. Brandon was watching me, giving me a knowing smile.

“What?” I asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Really?” he asked. “You’re going to give me the innocent act?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told him, taking another bite of my sandwich and reaching into the box for my cheese wafer.

“All right,” Brandon said. “If that’s how you want to be about it.” He finished his sandwich, and we sat in silence for a few moments as he tore a chunk out of his cupcake. “But I think you know what I’m talking about.”

I sighed.

“Brandon…”

“Look, I don’t know exactly what happened between the two of you but hear me out. I get being hurt. But maybe, just maybe, you two deserve a second chance. I know there are things you aren’t telling me about what went down and everything that’s going on, but he is still a good guy,” he said.

“I know he is,” I said.

“Then maybe you should stop being so difficult and believe there could be something for you. There are really good relationships in the world, Merry. And that’s coming from a guy who is right smack in the middle of an ugly divorce, so it means extra coming from me.”

I swatted him playfully and went back to eating, but his words stuck with me for the rest of the day. He was right. Quentin really was a good guy. But it wasn’t so easy as just knowing he was a good guy and being willing to get over the fear of being hurt and try again.

I still had my secret, and that was going to change everything.

35

Quentin

Adopting Rosie was somewhat of an impulsive decision. I was going to be the first to admit that. I saw Cole enjoying his puppy so much and brightening up just because of it, and I wanted that. I wanted to have a companion with me and to not feel so lonely and isolated all the time. But I didn’t spend a tremendous amount of time thinking about what it was actually going to be like to have that puppy and getting myself ready for it. But I was tossed right into the deep end and thought I was doing fairly well with it considering it was the first time I’d ever actually taken care of a puppy.

My brothers and I had pets when we were growing up, but not a lot of them, and they were never babies. My mother had a soft spot for animals and didn’t like the idea of going to a breeder and buying a puppy or kitten, or specifically seeking out a young animal just because it was cute. Instead, she wanted to give a loving home to an animal who needed it, and so we had cats and dogs who are already older when we got them. They were wonderful and I loved having them, but it was definitely a different experience than bringing home a young puppy and starting from scratch. We were both figuring things out together.

One of the first things we figured out was crate training was a big joke. I heard plenty of people rave about it and say it was the only way to go if you were going to have a well-behaved dog. That might be true for some animals and some pet owners, but not so much for Rosie and me. As soon as I picked her up, we went to the pet store together and loaded up on everything I could think of that she might need. Several massive bags of puppy food, dozens of toys, treats, a couple of different collars, a leash, puppy pads, and her crate later, my house felt properly taken over. It was now the home of a puppy and we are going to be very happy together.

That is, until I put her in the crate last night and headed up to bed. I slipped on some covers and turned the light off, and the house echoed with the heartbreaking sound of her wailing downstairs. I went down, added a blanket to her crate, and went back upstairs. The next time I couldn’t handle the sound of her crying anymore, I gave her a soft toy to cuddle with. The next time it was a chewy bone to keep her entertained in case she was just too full of energy or I had the one insomniac Lab puppy in existence.

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