Page 54 of The Lucky One

I’m not the only one who’s smitten. I caught Bailey sleeping at the foot of her bed when I panicked looking for him last night. Poor guy is in love, too.

In a couple of hours there’s a dog parade, so we’re hunting for something to dress Bailey in since I was a bad dog dad and didn’t know. Maybe there’s something to be said for paying attention to a schedule.

At least a little.

“Hey, look at that,” Bridget says, pointing toward an area set up by the fountain. “It looks like there might be dog stuff over there.”

Too late, the sign that was partially obstructed comes into view: ‘Lucky in Love: Adopt a Pet and Find Your Four-Leaf (Legged) Forever Friend’.

“Hey Bridget!” I call after her, tugging on Bailey’s leash to distract him from a pile of grass he’s fascinated by.

There’s wire fences filled with animals. Cute, fuzzy puppies that yip happily at the attention. Bailey flip flops his head at each new sound almost comically.

I scan the area, then notice her over by a literal furball. It reminds me of Bailey when he was younger.

“Can I hold her? Am I allowed to do that?” she asks, crouched down by the fence.

I lower myself to the ground so I can sit beside her, since squatting still isn’t very comfortable. “What are you doing, Spitfire?”

The attendant hands her the puppy, who enthusiastically licks Bridget everywhere. She’s wriggly and lets out excited whines that could cause even the biggest guy to cave. It’s me. I’m that guy.

Bridget is no better as she croons to the puppy. Someone should bottle up this happiness and market it because I think it’s capable of powering a whole town.

“She’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,” she squeals.

“But they grow up to be big. Like this guy.” I pat Bailey, who’s using every ounce of his restraint to not join in the antics.

“He’s a good boy though.”

Bailey woofs in agreement and looks to me for permission to move.

“No. Stay,” I say, shaking my head.

If he were a cat, I’d have a present in my shoe later. But I’ll definitely be getting side eye for a while. I’m keeping him from his new favorite person, and a potential playmate.

“You know how you said that maybe I should live a little?”

The puppy is calmer now and has settled herself against Bridget, laying her head on her shoulder like a baby. She’s not walking out of here without that dog.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “I remember.”

“We weren’t allowed to have pets, growing up. I always wanted one. We all did.”

The information we’ve revealed to each other so far is like the kiddie pool. A week isn’t much time to get to know someone, though my heart feels like it’s known her much longer. But every time she tells me something like that, I add another reason to be grateful for my family. And my heart breaks a little for hers.

I’m honored I get to be part of her healing.

“Cats are pretty low maintenance,” I suggest. “No walks, no throwing the ball, no four a.m. bathroom breaks.”

“It’s funny you mention that. She said they have a black kitten over in the cat area?—”

I groan. “You know how I feel about black cats, Bridget.”

Her mouth turns up in a smile. “That’s why I suggested it.”

“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

“I think that’s sort of our thing.” She pauses and rests her cheek against the puppy’s head.

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