Page 86 of Lost Love on 6th Street

“He’s trying to find a way to escape,” Claire mutters.

“Aw, poor guy doesn’t know how good he’s got it.”

“Just like humans. We accept the love we think we deserve.”

We return our gaze to Shortbread.

“Give me your bag; I’ll let him sniff it,” Claire continues.

I hand over my satchel and watch her approach Shortbread cautiously, making sure he can see her.

“Hey, Shortie. Got a treat.” Claire crouches down and holds the treat out in front of the bag.

Shortbread perks up. Even a boy who’s been hurt can’t refuse a treat. He goes over and nibbles at her fingers, big pink tongue flicking out. Then, he sticks his head right into my bag. I wonder for a second if I left a half-eaten protein bar in there or something.

Shortbread comes up for air and rounds Claire, giving her a sniff. And then he looks at me.

And something just locks into place.

He bounds over and stops short, a few paces from me. I look at Claire.

“Get on his level if you can,” she says in half a whisper so as not to scare him.

I crouch down. “Okay, buddy. Hey there.”

Shortbread is still and his dark eyes are wary of me.

I kneel in front of him.

“Hold out a hand,” Claire encourages.

I do so, close to my body so he can see it and doesn’t feel threatened.

Shortbread noses his way closer. Sniff, sniff, sniff. When he’s inches from my hand, he stops and then decidedly licks a stripe up my palm.

In an instant, the shy dog bursts to life, nudging his snout up against my neck, sniffing and looking for any bare plot of skin to lick.

I laugh and run my hands over his head. His ears are as soft as velvet. “Hey Shortbread. Hey.”

He calms enough so we can look into each other’s eyes.

I scritch my fingers over his scalp, tilting my head to the side and smiling. “I’m not so bad, huh?”

“I’ll be damned,” Claire says, getting back to her feet. “I can’t even get him to come when I call.”

Shortbread plops his bottom down, his long pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. When his eyes catch me again, he leans his head toward my neck.

“More pets? Of course,” I say, giving him all the scratches he’s so desperately needed.

“Love at first sight,” Claire says.

My eyes cloud with tears. “Yeah, I think so.”

Paris might be the “City of Love,” but I have a strong argument that Austin might take the crown.

28

LUKE

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