Page 53 of Lorcan
I leaned forward and, on the main street of Mission City, pressed a kiss to his lips.
Someone honked as they drove by. No slurs, though, so I’d take it. A good part of our small town was accepting, but I knew of more than a few bigots out and about.
I refused to live in fear of those assholes. I grinned. “Okay, so I have a thought.”
“I like thoughts.” He continued to grin. “Thoughts are good.”
Whether he was entirely sincere, or humoring me, I couldn’t tell. “Well, do you want a gruff name or something super sweet? I haven’t seen much of your puppy personality. You’ve seen the other treats I bought for you.”
He’d removed his collar in the night—too uncomfortable. Or that was my assumption. Perhaps he’d felt claustrophobic wearing it. A discussion for another time. I’d also bought him a matching leash, a tail, paws, ears, and quite a few toys. Having everything delivered overnight. I’d been happy to pay the premium because, hopefully we’d have time later to play. Rough and tumble on the ground, would be my choice. If we got frisky? Well, that would be okay as well.
“I like the treats you bought for me.” He ducked his head—a little shyly.
“Then we’ll play when we get home.”
“Oh yes.” His eyes danced with glee, and his smile was as wide as I’d ever seen.
He’s so easy to please. I want that smile every single day.
By mutual consent, we resumed our walk. I retook his hand and squeezed again. “Well, we could go with the classic. Buster or Tucker or Buddy.”
“We could.” He didn’t sound certain.
“There’s no rush, okay. We’ll keep at this until we find the right name. Doesn’t matter if that’s today or not. Don’t feel obliged to pick something because you think it’ll make me happy. The right name is super important—especially since it’s your first.”
“I understand.”
We stopped at the red light and waited to cross.
He pushed the button, so we’d get a walk signal. This was the biggest intersection in town—where the east/west highway intersected with the bridge and then the main artery up into the residential area. The system of lights to keep all four directionsmoving was quite elaborate—I could never remember which direction followed which and so watched the lights like a hawk.
“I, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I like the idea…of a soft name. Does that make sense?”
“Something that will roll off my tongue in a soft whisper? Yeah, I get it.”
The light changed, the white man-symbol appeared, the chirping started, and—after checking in all four directions—we started to walk across the street. Even though I did this frequently, I still held my breath until we were safe on the other side.
Once more and then we’d be safe.
“So, what are you thinking?” I wracked my brain. “Like, Cookie? Or Bucky? How about Chester? Opie? Oh, I know—” I grinned. “Kitten.”
As I hoped, he rolled his eyes. “Uh, no.”
“Walter?”
“Nope.”
“Chester?”
He laughed. “Hard no.”
I pointed to a car. “How about Jaquar? Oh, I know. Bentley.”
He arched an eyebrow.
The walk signal chirp alerted us to our turn to cross the street. Again, we checked every direction before proceeding.
“How about Obi?”
