“Oh yes, Coco and I have a regular walking date three times a week,” Miss Betty informed him.
“And how do you know Coco?” he asked, as Hannah disappeared into one of the other kennels with a leash.
“I might volunteer down here on a regular basis,” she called back.
“Uh huh.” He watched as she led some little poodle mix out and handed it over to Miss Betty.
“Percy’s already out in the yard with Duke. They might appreciate some company.”
Miss Betty beamed and hurried on outside with her charge.
Ryan stared after her, then turned to Hannah. “You are a sneaky, sneaky woman.”
“Well, he did kiss her at the dance.”
“I can’t decide if you’re brilliant or terrifying.”
She grinned. “I can be both. Now pick your pooch. We’re here to work while we matchmake.”
In honor of Trixie, Ryan leashed up a young lab mix aptly dubbed Pogo. The dog did more bouncing than walking as they made their way out to the yard with Hannah and her chosen companion, a border collie mix named Dolly. They spent twenty minutes walking and chatting, working with the dogs on their leash manners. Brooke wandered out with a tennis ball and suggested some off-leash time. Pogo trembled with excitement at the sight of it and Dolly bowed, butt wagging.
“How can you say no to those faces?” Hannah asked.
Across the fenced yard, Percy sat on a bench beside Miss Betty. Coco curled up in her lap and Duke stretched out at their feet, not remotely enticed by the idea of a game.
Ryan unclipped the leash from Pogo’s collar, pausing to give the dog a full body rubdown. “Wanna play? Huh? You want the ball?”
Pogo barked, leaping up to slobber a cheerful kiss across Ryan’s face.
He wiped it with his sleeve. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Accepting the ball from Brooke, he winged it to the far end of the yard. Pogo and Dolly tore after it, feet scrambling, muscles bunching as they strea
ked across the brown grass. It was such a simple thing, playing fetch with a dog. Repetitive. It should’ve been boring. But watching the unfettered joy of the animals as they chased after the little yellow sphere was oddly soothing. Hannah had talked a lot this week about the idea of living in the present. It was hard to get any more present than this. It was pleasure he hadn’t known he’d missed, and he found himself grateful for Hannah’s machinations for his sake, as well as Percy’s. From time to time, he glanced over at his uncle, noticing that Duke had shifted close enough that Percy could periodically scratch his ears.
Nearly an hour later, Pogo and Dolly dropped down to their bellies, tongues lolling, sides heaving as they panted. Their eyes were bright and happy. Ryan himself was more relaxed than he could remember being in ages.
Percy and Betty were still hanging out on the bench, watching the show. Duke was resting his head on Percy’s feet.
“You’ve made a friend there, I think,” Ryan observed.
“I’m taking him home with me,” Percy announced.
Not in the least bit surprised, he simply nodded. “Of course you are. I’ll let Brooke know to start on the paperwork.”
Chapter 8
“I love how Percy gets a dog, and somehow we’re the ones home with Duke while he’s out on a date with Miss Betty.”
“Oh, don’t be a grump.” Hannah hip-checked Ryan as she moved Percy’s usual massive collection of empty glasses to the sink so Ryan could set down the groceries he’d taken from her at the door. “Would you rather I be dragging you caroling tonight? Because that’s still on the table.” She made to abandon the food and headed for the door. “If we leave right now—“
He darted in to cut her off, using his bigger body to box her in against the counter. “I do not want to go caroling,” he ground out. But it was a sexy growl, and when she tilted her head back to look up at him, his expression held both humor and heat.
Hannah felt an answering heat wash through her, felt the warmth radiating from the broad, hard body just inches away from hers. It soaked into her hands, which had settled at his waist of their own volition, igniting little fires along her skin and scrambling her brain. She widened her eyes in mock innocence and blinked up at him, fighting to keep her voice light and flirty. “Oh yeah? And what do you want to do?”
“What I want...” he rumbled low, and she could practically feel his voice. He edged in, keeping his hands on the counter behind them, until they were pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, and oh, dear Lord did that feel good. “What I want is to stay in and take advantage of this empty house.”
“What’s stopping you?” she asked, breathless, tipping her head and angling her mouth toward his.