By tomorrow, I expect we’ll have a house full of people ready to give a dog a good home.
“And Clyde is now officiallypart of your family.” Carla stands to shake the tall hockey player’s hand.
He thanks her and leads the small Beagle back to his waiting family. I grin, clasping my hands under my chin as I watch the children excitedly hugging their cute new dog.
“You are so good at matching dogs with their owners.” I turn to her, pulling her into a hug. “How do you do it?”
“I’m a pet psychic!” She holds her hands up, waggling her fingers in a jazzy way.
My eyes widen. “You are not…”
“No.” Carla deadpans, and we both snort a laugh. “Not that I’m saying it can’t be done. I’m not convinced it can’t!”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “The jury is still out as far as I’m concerned.”
“Want to come and look at the house with me?” Owen’s large hand covers mine, and my breath catches.
“Yes…” But I hold up a finger, turning to my friend. “Would you be okay if I disappeared for a few minutes?”
“Of course!” She waves her hands at me, chuckling. “Please go with the handsome, rising hockey star and look at a future home.”
“It’s not like that,” I start to argue, but when I look up at Owen… the way he’s looking down at me… I’m not so sure.
We head down the steps to the sidewalk, then past a few houses to the now-empty one on the same side of the street as mine.
“Since the Schillingers have already moved out, we’re closing this week.” Owen holds the door, and we step into a big, open floorplan with two bedrooms and three full bathrooms on the first floor. “We can start moving in on the fifteenth.”
The floors are split brick, and the living room has a gorgeous, vaulted ceiling made of yellow-pine planks. Yellow pine stairs at the back wall lead to the upstairs floor, which has two more bedroom suites.
“Come look at this.” Owen clasps my hand, leading me to the master suite on the first floor.
The bedroom is beautiful with pine floors, beige walls, ceiling fans, bronze fixtures. It has a wall of windows looking out over a garden of flowering bushes, but Owen doesn’t stop for any of it.
Holding my hand, he leads me to a small door off the side, which opens to a path leading down to a cute little cottage in the backyard.
The door opens, and my breath catches. “It’s a she-shed!”
The walls are painted pink, and a flower box is in the window.
“It has electricity and wireless.” He steps inside the gingerbread workspace. “It doesn’t have plumbing, but wecan run a line out here. I don’t know how much it costs to have a bathroom installed…”
I stop in the middle of the room, turning to face him. “What are you saying?”
He looks down, rubbing a hand over his chin. “I’m just saying it has a lot of potential.”
My lips press into a smile. “I think it does.”
18
OWEN
“And here are the keys to your new home.” My realtor hands me the fob with the miniature hockey puck on the keychain. “The previous owners thought that would be a fun touch. They are so happy to have sold their home to a single dad who’s a Champion and a friend of the Bradfords.”
“They’re nice folks.” I take the keys, slipping them into the pocket of my jeans. “I’m glad they were so easy to work with.”
“They got what they wanted here, and now they’re moving on to their next chapter, just like you’re moving into your next chapter.”
It’s been a busy three weeks. We had our pod sent from Eureka, and with everyone’s help, we spent most of November unloading furniture and moving our things between games and practice.
