I laugh despite the absurdity of the situation. “He would deserve it. Why are you telling me this?”
“You love him. He loves you. Love rarely grants second chances. When it does, you’d do best not to ignore it. Both your happinesses depend on it.” She stands, swallowing the last of her cup. “Also, I’d love to schedule an acupuncture appointment.”
I smile, enjoying the warmth now emanating from Gayle. “I have time now.”
“Perfect.”
Gayle leaves after her treatment, claiming to be infinitely more relaxed.
I, on the other hand, am a nervous wreck.
Dylan told her that he loved me. That he’s always loved me.
What if he’s lying?
Bigger question, what if he’s not?
I need something to occupy my mind. My time. A place to hide at this point.
Driving to the outskirts of town, I stroll into the animal shelter. My plan? Walk a few dogs and tease some kittens with a feather toy.
Instead, I bumble out ninety minutes later, balancing a cat carrier with an orange meatball and trying to rein in an overexcited golden retriever.
Yep, I adopted the bonded cat and dog duo that I’d seen the week before with Marissa and Estelle.
But it’s not my fault. The shelter manager played on my heartstrings, declaring how they were struggling here at the shelter and needed a loving home. No one was showing any interest. What if they had to be split up?
There’s a sucker born every minute. I learn this fact after I’ve signed the papers for these two fluff balls, and I catch the manager’s triumphant smile.
Now, I’m $150 poorer and two fur babies richer. I definitely got the better end of this deal.
I drive back to the store, hauling out the cardboard carrier while the dog eagerly decorates the light post with his own brand of paint. I swear, the cat must have eaten rocks for lunch. He weighs a metric ton.
I am just around the corner when I hear a child’s squeal of excitement. Looking up, I watch Marissa wrest from her father’s grip, making a beeline for me.
Well, for the animals I’m holding, anyway.
“What in the world?” Dylan asks, catching up to his mini me. “You got a dog?”
“And a cat,” I reply, handing him the keys to my shop. Hey, if he’s here, he’s helping.
“This is the dog I wanted, Daddy,” Marissa exclaims, wrapping her arms around the retriever’s neck. “Is that the orange kitty?”
“Of course, it is,” I reply, hefting the carrier up a few inches. The animal is getting heavier by the second and lifting him is like carrying a grand piano single-handedly.
“You got them both!”
When a child smiles, you smile back. It’s not even a rule. It’s the law. If their laugh of joy doesn’t touch your heart, you don’t have one. And Dylan’s daughter possesses a laugh as infectious as her father’s, melting my hardened exterior.
I don’t stand a chance against her level of cuteness. In that regard, she’s a carbon copy of her father.
“They’re best friends. I couldn’t split them up.”
The three of us walk into the shop, as Marissa plops onto the floor and pries open the cat carrier. “I’m so glad you saved them.”
I giggle as she interacts with the animals. Glancing over my shoulder, I spy Dylan leaning against the door jamb. Damn him for looking so good with so little effort.
“Trying to earn brownie points?” he inquires, a smile on his lips.
“Yes. With the dog and cat. Besides, I needed a guard dog.”
Dylan breaks into laughter at the retriever rolling around with Marissa, his tongue lolling to the side. “I can see why you chose him. He’s fierce.”
“Ferocious.” I sit down into the middle of the melee, delighting in Marissa’s squeal of excitement. “Since they were strays, the shelter said they didn’t have names. But they must have names. Don’t you agree?”
“Oh, yes,” Marissa responds, her expression serious.
“What shall we call them?”
Her eyes twinkle at the question. “I can name them?”
“If you like.”
Her hands stroke along the animals’ backs as she considers her task. “Paddington and Mr. Whiskers.”
Dylan and I chuckle in unison. “Oh, those are excellent names. How about we find some treats for Paddington and Mr. Whiskers?”
“Yes, please! Do you have a husband?” Marissa inquires, her gaze intent on me.
“No.”
“You need one.”
My mouth drops open at her bold statement. “I do?”
“Yes. What about my Dad?”
I double over, coughing. “What about him?” I eke out.
“You should marry my Dad.”
The child did not just say that. I glance at Dylan, who appears equally shocked by his daughter’s declaration. Okay, D, I’ll handle this one for you. “Well, your father is a very nice man, but I don’t like men with beards.”
Dylan scoffs and I swing my gaze in his direction. “That is not a legitimate reason, Poppy.”
I hold back the snicker as I push myself to a standing position. Nothing like bruising the handsome mayor’s ego. I shrug as I stand next to him, leaning on the opposite side of the doorjamb. “It’s a perfectly legitimate reason, for a six-year-old.”
“What’s your real reason?”
I bite my lip, containing the laugh. “I told you. I don’t like men with beards.”
He closes the space between us, our bodies mere inches apart. “You didn’t mind earlier.”
“I didn’t have a choice. You laid one on me.”
“The first time, yes. But I distinctly recall someone grabbing me back and returning the favor.”
I turn to face him, shooting him a surprised gape. “It’s clear now that you’ve done too many drugs. That’s the only explanation. I would never have kissed you back.”
Dylan laughs again, his fingers playing through the ends of my hair. “That must be it. Or, you’re lying, and you loved it as much as I did.”
I seize on his word. Love. Might as well spill the beans about my visitor earlier in the day. “Speaking of love, Gayle came by here this morning.”
Dylan groans, resting his forehead against the door frame. “What did she say?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me if what she said is true, no matter how it makes me feel?”
Another groan. I can’t imagine what this man thinks I might spout. “Of course. Lay it on me.”
“She claimed that I was your great love. That you had always been in love with me, and that you still were.”
He raises his head, those chocolate brown eyes warm with affection. “I told you that last night. And this morning.”
I want to remain an impenetrable fortress, locking my heart away from Dylan’s reach. I know now that’s impossible. “I didn’t know you told her. I didn’t think I should believe you.”
Dylan cups my hand, laying his forehead against mine. “I love you, Poppy Mills. I’ve always loved you.”
“Now, kiss.”
We jerk our gazes to Marissa, who’s watching us with a great deal of interest.