Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Margo opened the gate. “Come on in and say hi to the little rascals.”
“Oh. My. God! Are you the cutest cutie pies in the entire universe?” Aaron gasped in delight, sinking to his knees to greet the friendly pups. He zeroed in on the unspoken-for puppy, scratching the top of his head and snickering when the pup nipped his finger. “Someone’s feisty.”
“Careful,” Margo warned. “He’s got sharp teeth.”
“Me too, honey. Can I hold you? I’ll be gentle, I promise.” Aaron scooped up the little fox red Lab and cradled him in his arms. “How are you, little friend? Tell me all about you.”
The puppy stared at my husband, his expressive brows lifting from one eye to the other. His ears perked up as he cocked his head, and damn it…cute wasn’t a strong enough word.
I crouched next to Aaron and rubbed the puppy’s belly. He sniffed my hand and licked it. “Hey, there, little guy.”
“I think he likes us, Matty.” Aaron set the puppy down and pet one of his siblings. “Introduce us to your brothers and sisters, CP. Something tells me you can handle this crew. Are they cool? Do they play nice?”
“His name, should we decide to adopt him, will never be Chris Pine,” I grumbled good-naturedly.
Aaron tossed a teasing wink over his shoulder and followed the band of energetic pups.
“Chris Pine?” Margo asked.
“Inside joke. Don’t worry…it won’t stick.” I brushed my hands on my jeans and changed the subject. We’d done our homework and knew the kennel had a great reputation, but I was curious about their operation. And to be perfectly honest, I’d had no idea there was such a thing as a fox red Lab.
“They’re genetically yellow Labs with a reddish coat,” Margo explained. “Wonderful dogs—playful, friendly, sociable. And they’re loyal companions.”
“High-energy too.” I grinned at the puppies nipping at the buckles on Aaron’s designer boots.
“True. They’re active, and they like to be near their people as often as possible. You mentioned that you work from home?”
“Not me.” I inclined my head toward Aaron. “My husband does, though.”
Margo studied the grown-ass man frolicking with the puppies. “He’s good with dogs.”
“Yeah, he is.” I dug my hands into my pockets as I pivoted to face her. “We didn’t come prepared to take a puppy home. We need to talk and—well, that should be a quick conversation. So, my question is…how long can you hold the puppy for us?”
“How long do you need?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
Margo smiled. “You got it.”
Eighteen hours later, we returned with a puppy carrier and an SUV filled to the brim with necessary new pet purchases—and went home with a new family member.
We unzipped the travel carrier in the middle of the great room and sat on the floor, coaxing the puppy out with baby talk that should have been embarrassing but felt sort of natural.
“C’mere, sugar sweetie love bug,” Aaron crooned.
Okay, well…maybe it was a little over-the-top.
“Sugar sweetie love bug?”
Aaron nodded. “Also, fluffy bunny baby boy and cutie-kins cupcake and—”
“How about a real name?”
“Hmm. That’s tricky.” Aaron pulled the puppy onto his lap and cuddled him close. “Unless you’ve decided to entertain delicious superhero namesakes.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nope. And you have to admit, he doesn’t give Chris Pine vibes anyway.”
“True. He’s more of a Seamus or a Murphy or—”
“Murphy! I like that.” I draped an arm over Aaron’s shoulders and scratched the puppy’s chin. “Murphy Mendez-Sulli—”
“No, no. We should think about it some more. No reason to be hasty.”
I rested my forehead against his temple, closing my eyes for a beat. “He’s ours, Aar. No one’s going to take him away.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, and when he did his voice was thick with emotion. “I know. I know. I just don’t want to jinx anything.”
“There’s nothing to jinx, baby. This little guy is officially a member of the Mendez-Sullivan clan.” I flattened my thumb on one of his ears. “And I’m sorry, but I’m not calling him Sweetie love bug pumpkin face.”
“Sugar sweetie love bug,” he corrected, burying his nose in the puppy’s scruff. “You’re right. He’d probably protest the mushy endearments in his teens, which come relatively quickly in dog years. Let’s think. I mean, Murphy is a good name, but it needs pizzazz.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but…what kind of pizzazz?”
Aaron’s lips twisted in amusement, and the spark of mischief in his eyes was such a relief that I was ready to agree to even the wildest suggestion.
“Sir Murphy Pedro Pascaldoggalito Mendez-Sullivan, Esquire.”
I snort-laughed. “That’s a…mouthful.”
“Mmhmm. Murph for short.”
Murph scrambled out of Aaron’s hold and toddled around the great room. We’d done a massive remodel a couple of years ago to create an open space…and a lot of opportunities for a curious puppy to cause trouble. Murphy didn’t seem bent on mischief at the moment, though. He was in exploration mode—sniffing the rug, the sofa, and the coffee table before heading into the kitchen.