"Actually, about that..." I bend down and untangle myself, scooping up the puppy. "Maverick here is yours. If you want him. Part of the Iron Creek program, but you'd be his primary trainer. Get to shape him from the start."
Her eyes go soft. "Dean."
"Plus, I figured you needed someone to boss around while we drive to Texas. Might as well start with a puppy."
She takes Maverick from me, and he immediately tries to lick her face. She laughs, turning her head. "What about Ranger?"
"Officially retired as of yesterday. They expedited the adoption paperwork since I didn’t reenlist. He's mine now. Full custody. Though he's been sulking since I told him we're leaving Colorado."
"Poor baby." She scratches behind Maverick's ears. "Guess you'll have to share your new house with an old grump."
"Story of my life," I say.
She elbows me. Gently. "You're lucky you're cute."
"That's what I keep telling people," I reply.
"And humble," she adds.
"It's a burden," I say with a grin.
Maverick squirms, and Callie sets him down. He immediately makes a beeline for the corner where Biscuit's bed sits, circles three times, and flops down like he owns the place.
"He fits right in," I observe.
"He's a menace." But she's smiling when she says it.
"So," I venture. "Where do we stand on the priority list? Me and dogs?"
"The dogs get priority," she says without hesitation.
"Obviously. But where do I rank?"
"Hmm." She taps her chin, pretending to think. "Well, there's Ranger. And now Maverick. And Biscuit, obviously."
"Obviously."
"And my work. And my coffee maker."
"Your coffee maker?"
"It's a really good coffee maker."
I pull her close, hands settling on her hips. "So I'm what, sixth?"
"Seventh. I forgot about my heated blanket."
"That's cold, Doc."
"That's the point of the heated blanket."
I pull her in and kiss her because I can, because she's here and she's mine and we're doing this. Together. She tastes like coffee and something sweet, and when she sighs against my mouth, her hand curls into my shirt like she's anchoring herself to me.
When I pull back, she's got that look—the one that means she's thinking too hard.
"What?" I ask.
"I just realized I'm leaving Pine Valley." The words are soft. "My whole life is here."
