Page 65 of Worst in Show

“Good one.”

“No, but seriously. It isn’t bad for one person. Kind of cozy in a wintery, cabin-nook type of way.”

“A nook with three dogs, lest you forget.”

“Right.” He points to the treat bag between us. “They’re all made from scratch, organic, healthy. The big one is apple—that’s for Boris since it’s his favorite.”

I squint at him. “How did you know that?”

“You told me, remember? The first time we went out to the farm. Apple pie…”

I pause my unraveling of the bag. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Where is he anyway?”

“He and Cap are sleeping over there.” I indicate the hallway, and, as I do, Boris appears with major bedhead even for someone whose normal state is “disheveled galore.”

“Hi, bud. How are you doing?” Leo asks.

Boris limps to his side and puts a heavy head on his thigh.

My heart instantly turns more puddle than solid. “Aww, he wuvs you now,” I coo. “He usually only does that with Pop. Here.” I hand him the cookie.

“Want a treat, bud?”

Boris devours it in two bites and then rests his head against Leo again. Leo strokes two fingers between the big dog’s bushy brows until Boris lets out a pleased huff. There’s something so tender and unguarded about the pair that makes me choke up a little, and I don’t know why.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Leo says, catching me watching him.

“Nothing.” I pull the cover off my sewing machine that’s sitting off to the side and start changing the spool of thread to have something else to look at.

“That’s the most complicated thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know you could sew.”

“You didn’t?” I choose a moss-green fabric from the pile on the chair next to me and find a matching thread from the tin. “I post my pet costumes on Insta all the time. You’ve seen them.”

Leo gapes. “You make those?”

“We sell a lot this time of year. Those capes next to you will be gone in a week.”

He picks one up. “Hey, maybe I should get one for Tilly. Someone told me we have to dress up.”

I stop short. “What happened to ‘Halloween is for kids’?”

“Another terrible impression of me, but yeah. You win. The decoration bet, the costume… You are the rightful queen of Halloween.”

“Wow.” I pretend to be confused. “But, if I’m the winner, then that must mean that you’re… What’s the word again? The… the… I think it starts with an L.”

“The loser,” Leo grunts, his lips twisted with wry humor.

“I’m sorry, what’s that?”

“I’m the loser,” he says, louder, putting his hands behind his head and stretching. “Enjoy it now, because we both know what’s coming.”

“You mean when you’ll be wearing a Happy Paws shirt to work and post about it online? Yes, I do know that.” I give him my best megawatt smile.

He shakes his head in mock disappointment. “I should have known better than to stop by. What was I thinking?” Despite his words, he stays seated, fingertips tapping the tabletop.

“You were thinking of Boris.”

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