Page 26 of Must Love Dogs… and Hockey

Not Easton, though. We had to end things with me turning him down. How awkward is that?

I shake my head. Never mind Easton. He’s a client. I need to be professional.

I bounce up off the couch and clap my hands. This is great!

—

I open the door on Saturday to see Easton and Otis. My heart gives a funny little bump in my chest and awareness sizzles over my skin as I lay eyes on Easton. Holeeeeey shit.

Oh my gawd, he’s so frickin’ attractive my bones are melting. For a moment I lose my words, taking in his big, lean body dressed in…a suit. A gorgeous, expensive-looking, navy blue suit with a blue-and-white-checked shirt beneath it and a patterned blue tie. I follow the line of the narrow pants down, over muscular thighs, then lower to polished brown shoes.

Seeing me taking in his attire, he says, “I’m headed straight to the airport from here.” He holds out his arms. “Game day.”

“Ah.” I clear my throat and drop my gaze to Otis. “Otis!”

Laughing, I sit on the floor, holding Otis back and trying to calm him as he wriggles and squirms.

Easton enters the apartment and sets down Otis’s belongings, then closes the door.

I look up at him. “He remembers me.”

“Of course he does.”

“He’s grown!” I run my hands over his fur.

“It’s only been a week,” Easton protests.

I shrug, rubbing Otis’s head. “I’m sure he’s grown a little.”

“I wonder how much bigger he’ll get.”

I lift my gaze from Otis to Easton again. “Why do you still have him?” I keep my hands on Otis, gently petting him. He’s calmer now.

Easton grimaces and rubs the back of his neck, looking away. “I’m not sure, actually.”

A slow smile tugs at my lips. “I think you want to keep him.”

Easton doesn’t reply right away. “I was going to talk to you about that.”

I tilt my head and regard him quizzically from where I sit on the floor. I decide “a talk” should be done at eye level, or as close to eye level as I can get with him without a stool, given he’s about eight inches taller than me. I go to my knees, then push up to stand so I can face him. “About what?”

“If I keep him…would you look after him? It’s more than just dog walking, I know; I need someone to look after him overnights, and sometimes it would be for a few nights.”

My heart picks up speed and my mouth goes dry. “Really?”

He gives me a sheepish look. “I don’t really know what I’m doing with a dog, but…” He lifts one shoulder. “He’s kind of fun to have around.”

My heart turns to warm pudding. “Yeah, he is.”

Otis is padding around the apartment, and he jumps onto the couch and curls into the shape of a giant shrimp, quite at home.

“And I kind of feel I should keep him in case his owner comes looking for him. If I take him to a shelter, they’ll never see him again.”

“True.”

“We can talk more when I pick him up. Would you think about it?”

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

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