Page 39 of Until Then

“Wonton!” she screams as she throws the door open and undoes her seat belt.

I manage to slam on the brakes before she leaps from the car.

“Wonton!” she cries, running for the sopping wet dog who’s crouched by the front steps of a house a few streets over from mine.

He wags his tail, but he makes no move to get up.

Worried that he’s injured, I hop out of the truck and jog through the rain that’s lightened up dramatically. Near the house, Izzy drops to her knees and scoops the dog against her chest.

She buries her face in his neck, shoulders shaking with heavy sobs. “I’m so happy you’re okay.” Her voice cracks on the last word.

She stands carefully and turns back to the truck, only to halt when she sees me.

“Thank you.” She crosses the distance between us and tips her head back, not the least bit fazed by the rain running down her face. “Thank you for looking for him in the rain and for coming back out now. Just… thank you.”

She stands on her tiptoes and brushes a gentle kiss to my cheek. My skin burns from the touch.

“I guess we can get dinner from the diner after all,” she says with a pat to my chest before she heads back to the truck. “I certainly don’t feel like cooking now.”

Her flippant tone after the chaos of the past two hours or so has me throwing my head back and laughing.

Izzy is curledup on the couch with her food while Wonton runs around in circles, then scoots along the carpet, drying himself off from the bath she just gave him.

Biting into her BLT, she watches her dog, her eyes twinkling.

“God, I’m so glad he’s okay.”

Plate in hand, I sit beside her on the couch. “I am, too.”

She bumps my arm lightly with her elbow. “He’s grown on you, hasn’t he?”

“He’s impossible to resist,” I admit, watching him spread himself out on the floor and push off with his back feet.

Her smile is wide, pleased. When she turns back to her dog, she affects the dog baby voice that should annoy me but only endears me to her further. “That’s right, because who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy. No one can resist your charms. Not even Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

“Grumpy Pants,” I huff. “The nerve. Insulting me after I was out in the pouring rain crawling through mud afteryourdog.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She leans over, and at the same time, I shift in my seat, unaware that she was planning to plant a kiss on my cheek. The move causes her lips to land on the corner of my mouth instead. It’s not a real kiss, but fuck is it close.

We both freeze, breaths held and eyes wide.

She moves away first, face flaming red. “Sorry,” she mumbles, looking down at the to-go box in her lap. “That was… sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“S’okay,” I mutter. I reach for my Coke, though I watch her out of the corner of my eye.

She’s fucking cute. Her long, dark hair is pulled up into ahigh ponytail, and she’s dressed in a white tank top, gray shorts, and a pair of white fuzzy socks.

I quickly avert my attention to my drink before she can catch me checking her out.

Wonton, adorable menace that he is, hops up on the couch between us and shakes his damp body.

“Wonton,” Izzy laughs, breaking the tension between us. “That’s not nice.” With her next breath, she’s distraught, her eyes filling with tears. “Buddy, I don’t know what I would’ve done if we didn’t find you.” She peers up at me, sniffling. “That was the worst couple of hours of my life. I’m not exaggerating.”

“All that matters is he’s here and he’s safe.”

She slips a piece of bacon from her sandwich and holds it out to the dog. “Should I putGilmore Girlson again?”

I’d appreciate the distraction. It’ll help me to avoid thoughts of the not-really-a-kiss and the fact that my dick didn’t get the memo.

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