Make Me Yours

“Of course.” I reach out and clasp his hand. He threads our fingers immediately, and it feels so good. “Be quiet.”

His eyes travel quickly around my small house as I lead him to my bedroom. He pauses a beat to study the painting, but I give him a gentle tug. Finally, he joins me outside my door, and for a minute we both stand watching Lillie lying on her side with Buddy curled up right beside her.

“Oh, man.” Remi’s voice is so warm. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

“He’s a Miniature Schnoodle. Lillie named him Buddy.”

“A Schnoodle?”

Turning quickly, I launch into the speech. “Don’t worry, he can stay here at my house, and I told Lillie she could come and see him as much as she wants—”

“Hey,” Remi holds up a hand just in front of my lips. “It’s okay. Whatever you want is fine with me.”

Warm hands drop to my waist, and he pulls me closer. “Thank you for being so sweet to her.”

My lips press, and I want to kiss him so bad.

I’m staring at his mouth when he speaks again. “I’d like to kiss you, too, but I’m afraid it might violate your rule… the one where we’re supposed to be thinking about what we want.”

I’m thinking about it… I’m leaning closer when a little voice interrupts our moment.

“Daddy!” Lillie sits up in the bed and we step apart. “Look what Ruby got for me! It’s a puppy! His name is Buddy. He’s a Schnoodle.”

Remi gives me a smile and a light squeeze before going to his daughter. “I think Buddy is amazing. I’ve never heard of a Schnoodle.”

“Isn’t that a funny word for a dog?”

Buddy wakes up and starts hopping all around. “Lillie! He probably needs to pee. Let’s get him outside, quick!”

She jumps up and runs with him to the back door. Remi and I trail behind her, watching as she walks around the small backyard talking to her little companion in the growing twilight.

“It feels right, doesn’t it?”

Remi’s voice is so full of love, it’s like warm liquid in my veins.

I couldn’t agree more.

33

Remi

Lillie spends every afternoon at Ruby’s house now that Buddy is in the picture, and I get daily updates of his house-breaking habits, how my daughter is teaching him to sit, roll over, speak.

According to Lillie, he speaks a lot.

According to Ruby, he’s a smart little dog who’s very good with children.

According to me, this is all fucking amazing.

We’re like a new little family slowly forming.

Far too slowly forming if you ask me. Still, I hold back. I’m giving Ruby the time she needs to think.

Every day when I pick Lillie up before dinner, I can see the progress of Ruby’s painting. She’s added dark navy and maroon poppies around the border. The background is eggshell, with perfectly square brush strokes creating a pattern. The brushwork in the child’s hair is so meticulous and loving, and the strokes down the mother’s back… It’s brilliant.

I’m not an art critic, but Ruby is fucking fantastic.

She’s taking online courses to add art therapy to her skill set, and even though we’re apart, she tells me about it while I wait for Lillie to tell Buddy goodnight when I pick her up.