Page 92 of Under Pressure

I meet her eyes and nod appreciatively at the save. “Go for it.”

“I’m heading out, but I wanted to give Bodi a treat first,” Ruthie says.

“What kind of treat?”

She huffs. “The good kind. I know what dogs can and can’t have.”

“I know. But if Beck comes home and his dog’s gained ten pounds, I’m going to send him to you.”

“Good. I’d love to get to know him a bit more.”

Without waiting for an answer, she slips past me to the outside tables. They’re cluttered today with the sun high and the wind low. Bodi’s moved on from the teen girl and is now lying on his back on the concrete, tanning his belly. His tongue is hanging out of his mouth, and his tail is swiping back and forth.

I lean against the doorframe and watch as he notices Ruthie and immediately rolls. On his feet, he pushes his nose into her open hand and snatches the small cookie she brought him. My brows shoot up when I realize that was an actual dog treat and not just scraps she brought from the kitchen.

Turning away, I ignore the way Callie’s watching me and make my way to the office. Once I get inside, I laugh at the giant glass jar on the coffee table that’s overflowing with dog treats. It wasn’t there yesterday, and I didn’t notice it this morning, but there it is. And that’s not all.

The deep blue dog bed I got him on my way in yesterday has been draped in thick, fuzzy blankets. A stuffed giraffe is tucked in the corner beside a rubber stick thing. There’s even a new set of shiny aluminum bowls in a wooden stand by the couch.

It looks like he’s here to stay, not just to visit for a few days while his real owner is gone.

And for some reason, that doesn’t bother me as much as it should. Instead, I’m more upset thinking about having to say goodbye to him eventually.

To both of them.

My phone rings the moment I step off the elevator.

Bodi walks like a perfect gentleman at my side, the tags on his collar chiming every few steps. I swap his leash to my other hand and answer the call without needing to look at the caller ID.

“Hey. How was the game?”

“You didn’t watch?”

“I was working,” I say with a slight smile.

Maybe I had the game up in the office and checked the score a few times on my phone. So what?

“At least tell me you saw the score.”

“I did. Congratulations, Closer.”

I input the code at the front door and then shove it open. Bodi tugs on his leash, and I tuck my phone into my shoulder before unclipping him.

Beck’s chuckle tickles my ear. “Thanks, gorgeous. How was work? Did Bodi behave, or am I going to need to grovel on his behalf?”

“He was a perfect boy. His behaviour is better than yours, actually.”

“I’m not above being jealous of my dog.”

I toe off my shoes and lock the door behind me. “I didn’t think that you would be.”

“If you’re going to be mean to me, at least do it while telling me about your day.”

“Are you that hard up already?”

“Already? I was the minute I left the house without you. You should see my balls. They look like giant blueberries,” he groans.

“Poor baby. I’m sure Kellan would step out to give you some time to fix that if you asked.”