Page 70 of Better Luck Next Time

“The leash probably helps,” she said. Maisie had warned them both to keep a good hold on it in case he decided to bolt.

Finn started to shut the door but noticed all the hair on the seat and swept it out, grinning. “Maybe we should save it for Blue. She could knit a second Tyrion out of his own fur.”

Adalia’s heart burst open and, keeping a firm grip on the leash, she walked over and lifted onto her toes to kiss him.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he said, his eyes shining, “but what prompted that? So I can be sure to do it again.”

“Just you being you,” she said, patting his chest. “Thank you.”

Grinning, he started to say something, then stopped and shook his head. “I’m going to stop while I’m ahead. The only responses I can think of are Mr. Darcy responses. They’d make you think I’m as conceited and full of myself as you did when you first met me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t assume you’re too far ahead.” They both laughed, but Adalia didn’t want to just laugh him off. He’d said something real. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way.”

“It was partly deserved,” he said. “I fully admit that.”

She studied him in amazement. How many men had that level of self-awareness? How manypeople?

His expression shifted, and he cast a glance at the dog, who was still sniffing around with interest. “You ready to bring him inside?”

Biting her bottom lip, she was silent for a moment, then said, “Maybe we should stay out on the front porch for a bit. Let him get used to me.”

He laughed. “You spent an hour with him in the playroom at the shelter. You’re stalling.”

“I just don’t want to scare Tyrion. Jezebel is like a banshee with claws.”

“Jezebelisa banshee with claws. And besides”—his gaze dropped to her side—“I don’t think any adjustment period is required. He already seems taken with you.”

Tyrion sat at Adalia’s side, patiently waiting.

She leaned over and rubbed behind his ears, staring into his eyes—an arresting mix of yellow, green, and one patch of blue. “Don’t worry, big guy. Finn will protect us both.”

“I should have stopped by my house and picked up my leather jacket.”

She gave him a hopeful look. “It’s not too late.”

He laughed again, but it had a nervous edge. “Maybe we should call Dottie. Without Jack’s sorcery at hand, she’s our best bet for taming the beast.”

Pushing out a sigh, she considered it. She had hoped to be alone with Finn for a while before he left for Charlotte, but then again, she’d just brought home a nervous, unsettled dog. Did she really want to ignore him to make out with Finn?

Did it make her a bad person that she had to give it a half-second of thought?

“That’s probably a good idea, don’t you think?” she asked hesitantly.

His eyes softened. “Yeah. It actually is. Let the record show I came up with it.”

She shook her head, laughing. “Duly noted. Point to Gryffindor.”

“What makes you think my house is Gryffindor?” he asked, his brow raised.

“After the whole Big Catch sale, I can see how some people might peg you as a Slytherin, but you’re a Gryffindor, through and through.” She patted his chest again. “Courageous. Chivalrous.”

“Courageous?” he asked in surprise.

“Anyone else would have tucked tail and run, but you’re still here, Finn, trying to make things right. That’s courage.”

He was silent for a moment, and she started to worry she’d said the wrong thing, but then the now-familiar teasing look filled his eyes. “What are you, a Hufflepuff?”

“God, no,” she snorted, scrunching up her face. “I’m a Ravenclaw. Now let’s call Dottie.”

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