Page 84 of Chris
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I pulled back just enough to stare at him. “Bronze?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Third place?”
“That’s still podium.”
I scoffed. “Pampi could take second. Easily.”
Chris’s grin spread, triumphant. “So… next year then?”
I leaned back into him before I could think too hard about it. His chest was warm and solid at my back. The noise of the arena faded into a dull hum.
“Maybe,” I said.
“And my spot in the K9 unit?” he asked quietly.
I exhaled slowly, watching another dog line up at the start gate. A clean course. A steady handler. A partnership built on trust.
“We’ll see.”
His arms tightened subtly around me. Chris pressed one more kiss against the back of my neck, right over the place his hand always found.
THE END
