Page 123 of Lost Love on 6th Street

Luke grimaces.

“Say no more.”

“It doesn’t really roll off the tongue. Shortie’s cute, but that feels like a hit to his ego.”

I scritch behind Not-Shortbread’s ears. “I guess it is a little demoralizing for a mid-sized dog.”

Not-Shortbread’s eyes roll toward us. He licks his lips, pink tongue darting out before he settles again and sighs. It truly is a dog’s life.

“How about Frank?” I tease.

Luke guffaws. “Are you being serious?”

I shrug. “Yes, I mean no, but . . . it’s not a bad name.”

Luke leans over me. “Let’s see . . . Yo, Frank.”

Not-Shortbread’s ears perk.

We exchange a look, eyebrows launching up.

“Maybe it was meant to be,” I say. “But he’s your dog, you should name him.”

I lean into Luke as we both gaze down at Not-Shortbread. Or Frank, I should say.

“No, he’s ours.”

Luke presses a kiss to the side of my head.

“I think Frank suits him perfectly.”

Luke considers for a moment. He squeezes my shoulder. “Frank it is.”

Frank’s ears twiddle, and he side-eyes us both before licking his lips and yawning.

We both laugh at the abject cuteness. Our eyes return to each other’s.

“I love you,” he says. “Everything I’ve done, as stupid as it has sometimes been, has come from loving you.”

I cup his chin, unable to hide my smile.

“What’s that look?” he asks.

I take a deep inhale. His musk intermingles with the freshness of the air, a sweetness on the breeze. “I’m taking a picture, so I never forget this moment.”

Luke moves in to kiss me, but he stops an inch away. “You’re going to have thousands of moments like this with me, Eleanor.”

I close the space between us, indulging in his lips.

Yep. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Epilogue

LUKE

A year and a half later . . .

“Frank!”

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