Page 71 of Down, Boy

"Graceful," I say.

"He's learning." She picks him up again. "Just like his handler."

"Ouch."

"You walked into that one."

"I did." I wrap my arms around both of them—Callie and the puppy. "But I'd do it again."

She leans into me, Maverick squirming between us. "You're ridiculous."

"You like it."

"I'm starting to."

We stand there in her clinic, surrounded by the smell of antiseptic and dog treats, a puppy trying to eat my watch, and I realize I've never been happier. Never wanted anything more than this—this woman, this life, this messy, unplanned, terrifying future.

"So," I say against her hair. "Two weeks?"

"At least. Maybe three."

"I can wait."

"You? Wait? The guy who just showed up at my clinic with a puppy and a rehearsed speech?"

"I'm a changed man."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm patient now. Mature. I'll give you all the time you need."

She tilts her head back to look at me. "And what are you going to do for two weeks while I wrap things up here?"

"Well." I pretend to think. "I could go back to Texas. Get the house ready. Set up the business stuff."

"Or?"

"Or I could stay in Pine Valley. Help you pack. Annoy you daily. Take you to Maggie's for pie."

"The pie is tempting."

"I know."

"And the daily annoyance?"

"Also tempting, if we're being honest."

She laughs, and it's the best sound I've ever heard. Better than engines roaring to life, better than the clear tone of a successful landing, better than anything.

"Okay," she says.

"Okay?"

"Okay, you can stay. Help me pack. Take me for pie." She pauses. "But you're getting your own hotel room."

My face must do something, because she laughs.

"I'm kidding," she says. "You can stay with me. Ranger and Maverick too." She glances at the puppy, then back at me. "Only if Biscuit approves, of course."