Buthe knows the things. Despite growing up basically a total disaster—or maybe because of it—he has a pretty solid, deep understanding of boundaries and healthy relationships.
I sigh and dig into a lemon scone while Bash spots the bacon. Zen pulls him onto their lap and fixes him a plate while Laney and Sabrina grab food too.
It’s the middle of the afternoon. Laney left work early. Zen left work early. Sabrina’s technically still on the clock, but none of her staff will question the boss taking a break.
I left work early too.
Slow day.
February through April will be crazy, but I get breathing room in the summer.
I don’t pay much attention to the doorbells jingling until I realize Sabrina and Laney are both staring at something.
Creepy-crawlies take up residence in my spine, and I carefully shift my head until I can see what they see.
“Doggie!” Bash cries. “I pet doggie!”
He pulls a Houdini and slips from Zen’s grasp, and I’m a hair too slow to grab him before he’s bolting across the café to throw himself at a black-and-brown dog.
“Bash,” I start, unsure how to finish that.
Don’t run up to dogs you don’t knowis what Ishouldsay.
It’s what I’ve said to him a thousand times already, and what I expect to say a thousand times more before it sinks in for him.
But Begonia Rutherford has him well in hand.
Even approaching seven months pregnant with twins, she’s squatting and redirecting his hands while smiling and talking softly to him about being careful with doggies.
“I don’t trust how much I like her,” Zen murmurs.
“It’s uncanny, isn’t it?” Sabrina murmurs back.
“You two,” Laney says with an affectionate sigh.
It takes me longer than it should to get out of my seat.
Mostly because Begonia and her dog aren’t alone.
Her husband—Jonas’s brother—is with them.
And I suddenly have butterflies in my throat. Not in my stomach. In my throat.
Jonas adores his brother the same way I adore Theo. You can hear it in his voice.
What happens if Hayes doesn’t like me?
What does that mean?
Andwhy do I care?
Don’t answer that.
I suck in a breath and make myself leave the table to join my son, who’s squealing with glee while the dog licks his fingers.
“Mama, I wan maw-mawa,” he says.
Begonia winces. “I thought Marshmallow was such a good name for him, but every time I introduce him to kids… Sorry about that.”
