Tiny trotted over with the stick, and let me take it.
“You too,” I replied.
“Not towards the water,” Corey instructed.
I nodded, picked a spot down the beach, aimed, and threw the stick.
Tiny took off, spraying sand behind his feet.
Corey walked over and stood next to me, but didn’t sit.
“Are… are you sure it doesn’t affect you?” he asked.
I took a deep breath, inhaling his scent along with that of the ocean. His was warm and comforting, like coming home. But it didn’t fuel a desire to mate.
“I’m fine,” I replied. “Are you ok?”
He let out a strained laugh, and for a moment my invitation for him to stay felt like cruelty. My admitting that I wasn’t hard as a rock seemed an insult.
Corey sat a few feet away and accepted the stick from Tiny, throwing it again as the dog barked excitedly.
“It’s a good place for fetch,” I said, noting how wide the stretch of beach was. “Not too crowded either.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“How long have you had him?”
He laughed.
“What did I say?” I asked.
“Tiny’s not mine. He’s Wes’s dog.”
“Huh?”
“I’m a dog-walker.”
“Oh.” I felt like an idiot as I vaguely recalled somebody telling me that the night before. I scrambled for a better response. “Is that a good job?”
He chuckled. “I spend my days with dogs. That’s the plus. It evens out all the downsides of being self-employed.”
I smiled. “You like dogs that much?”
“Of course I do.”
Tiny dropped the stick in front of me, tail wagging expectantly. I picked it up and tossed it.
“Do you have a dog?” Corey asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t have the time.”
“Then you don’t want a dog,” he sighed.
I blinked. “What gave you that idea?”
“You’re Zaya’s brother, so, unless you’re estranged, money shouldn’t be an issue. If you wanted a dog you could hire somebody like me to handle things like walking, grooming, or vet visits.”
I rubbed a hand down my face. He had a point. “I guess… I’ve never thought about it.”