Page 35 of Wild Card

“Over the top is one way to put it.”

“Can you get more romantic?”

“Never thought of Ralph’s as romantic.”

“It was the gesture. He catered lunch for the entire clinic just to spend time with you!”

“Let’s not forget he had help.” I side-eye her. “Thanks for the warning, by the way. And what the hell were you thinking inviting Chase and Wyatt?”

“It was knee-jerk.”

“Knee-jerk my ass. You could have put him off instead of inviting him.”

“I was swept up in the moment. Love was in the air.”

At this, I come to a stop, poor Wolf jerking back. He whines in confusion. “Love is NOT?—”

“Incoming!” a yell comes from behind as Bex yanks me out of the way.

Three women run by, all of them in skimpy clothes with hair perfectly slicked back in long swaying ponytails.

A few feet behind is another group, this time with faces full of make-up.

It’s an unusually warm day this time of year, but still not exactly skimpy clothing weather.

“What’s with the Barbie squad?”

“Shhh,” I hush Bex.

“How far are they behind us?” one of the women asks.

Her friend glimpses over her shoulder. “We should slow, they’re out of sight.”

“I’m calling dibs on the one with the Dalmatian.”

“I’m fine with any of them.” The third woman says as they slow.

“Holy, sweet baby Jesus.” Bex’s hand lands on my forearm.

The first thing I spot is three dogs trotting in a pack.

Then…

Holy Jesus is right.

It’s like any cloud in the sky parts and the sun shines down on the three men jogging behind them.

Their strides are in perfect sync. Muscles bulge and ripple under their clothes, black hats flipped backward, aviator wrap glasses, trails of ink snaking down their arms—it’s too much at once.

They could be a real-life advertisement for an energy drink… a sporting event… a cologne for men.

Whatever it is, I’m ordering…

… in bulk…

…and buying stock.

I’m so lost in the view I don’t catch Wolf’s excitement as he takes off, his leash slipping out of my hand.

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