Page 153 of Come Back to Me

“Why are they taking the dogs to the paddock?”

“It’ll be easier to let them loose in there without fear of them running off.”

God, he’s standing so close.

“Heisbuilding a haven,” I mumble, well aware that I’m really bad at keeping this conversation linear. “But that doesn’t helpnowso we’re fostering them.”

He scoffs. “You’re not the type to foster.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t foster; you adopt,” he drawls, taking the wind from my sails. “It’s not in your nature to discard something.”

I huff at his accurate take. “I’ve always wanted one, but my mom says they’re dirty so we weren’t allowed any when I was growing up. Then, in New York, our landlord didn’t permit them in the apartment.”

“I remember. So, here’s your chance.” He hums his understanding. E2. So deep. Yum. I bet if he did that when he was sucking on my clit— “Does anyone else know they’re about to be adopting a dog, or did you think that surprising them would be the best idea?”

“Callan and I agreed that an ambush was the best option?—”

“Of course you did. I swear the pair of you are too clever for your own good but dumb in the ways of life. You know the others might not want a dog?”

“If they don’t, Callan and I agreed?—”

“I’m beginning to fear those words.”

“Which words?”

“‘Callan and I.’ But keep going. What did you agree on?”

“That if anyone didn’t actually want a beautiful fur baby who desperately needs a home and has nobody to love them—” I don’t even falter when he rolls his eyes. “—then we’d look after them and adopt them once the haven was fully established.”

He purses his lips. “This is what all those questions were about in the letters, wasn’t it? ‘How important is loyalty to you?’ ‘Are you disciplined?’”

I chirp, “Of course.”

“Who answers with a ‘1’?” He barks out a laugh. “You weren’t as stealthy as you thought anyway. Colt thinks Callan is a germaphobe.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Mum doesn’t like dogs, so you might have to take care of hers and Mrs. Abelman’s…”

“Callan told me. But there was a fifteen-year-old pomsky that he picked for her. So, we’ll see if they vibe or not.”

“This has disaster waiting to happen written all over it,” he warns.

“That’s how I live my life,” I return, beaming a smile his way.

When his eyes widen, I take it as a win because at least he shuts up. Until… “It feels like a lifetime since I saw that smile.” His fingers hover by my jaw. “Like the sun hitting your face after polar night.”

Though I gasp, Callan shatters the moment by hollering, “TEE! Where are you?!”

Seeing as this is our mutual plan, one we’ve been crafting for ages, I can’t dump him now.

Though I want to kiss every inch of Cody’s face (and sit on it), I grab a hold of his arm and haul him with me to the paddock, where Callan’s bouncing on his heels.

There, the driver and his assistant are carefully removing each dog from their cage.

Callan’s joy is so effervescent as he’s gifted leashes that he puts on the medium-sized dogs then hooks onto one of the newel posts.

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