Lucky Baby (Crescent Cove 11)
Page 17
“Well, he’s—”
“Might be a she.”
Lucky hunched his shoulders protectively. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. The little guy is Butch. Look how brave you are.” Lucky lowered his nose to the dog’s. “You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?”
The dog was a maximum of six pounds—mostly fur.
“Couldn’t find a better name for him or her? Like Athena the warrior dog? Or how about Xena?”
He picked up the dog, towel and all, to look at it in the eye. “Nah. Butch.”
I rolled my eyes and downshifted as we came to a light. Kensington Square wasn’t far from suburbia nation. The clinic was barely out of the Cove and with the boom of families, it did very well, good enough to be open around the clock. It was almost noon and I had a bad feeling we’d be doing a whole lot of waiting to be seen.
Based on the dog’s situation, I imagined we’d be doing a whole lot of paying too. Not that it mattered. Animals would always win out when it came to my wallet.
“Just a few more minutes.”
Lucky snuggled the dog up against his chest. “Getting cold, little buddy? Should I boost the heat?”
“It might be a bit gross, but if you put him against your skin, he’ll—” Now he had me calling it a him. “It will warm up.”
Lucky grinned at me. “Even you think he’s a little dude.” Without hesitation, he tucked the dog into his tank top.
“I hope it doesn’t have fleas.”
Lucky stilled, then shrugged. “Guess we’ll both get a flea dip, hey?”
My lips twitched, but I managed not to smile.
Lucky gave me some side-eye. “I almost saw a smile.”
“You did not.”
“I did.” He snuggled down in the seat and inched him over to the middle of his chest. “She likes you, buddy.” He lowered his voice. “Think she likes me too.”
“No.”
Lucky snorted.
I shrugged. “The dog, maybe.”
He crossed his legs at the ankle. “Then why were you at my worksite?”
“You know why.”
“You could have texted.”
“I didn’t have your number. And I wanted to explain the expedited situation.”
“Expedited situation?” One bleached brow rose, and there was an intriguing scar through the arch.
Focus, Burns. There was nothing intriguing about this guy.
“Sounds interesting,” he added when I remained silent.
He laced his long fingers together over his little bundle. The smudge of mud striping his cheek was not cute, dammit.
I gritted my teeth together. I would not be swayed by a hot guy with