“What kind was it?”
“A tried-and-true mutt.” She chuckled. “The head of a beagle, the body of a dachshund, and the bark of a rottweiler. She was the best, though. Her name was Beezus.”
He arched a brow. “Interesting name for a dog.”
“We were watching a Ramona movie the day my dad brought her home. Beatrice was the older sister’s name, but Ramona called her Beezus. Mom said that’s what I started calling the dog, and the name stuck.”
“That’s cute.”
“I miss that dog. We had for her sixteen years.” A bittersweet expression crossed her face. “Mom and Dad miss her so much that they still won’t get another pet.”
“Understandable. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Truffles, but I think it would take a while to get another dog, if I did.”
She positioned herself to stand, and he extended a hand to help her. She accepted it, but let it go as soon as she was upright. “I should get home. We have a daycare inspection in the morning.”
“I’ll walk you out.” If he could have thought of a valid excuse for her to stay longer, he would have invited her to. As it was, he was thankful she’d decided to join him for dinner.
Outside, she wrapped her cardigan around her when the cool breeze hit. “Is it crazy to think about snow already?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice adamant, then he laughed at how seriously he’d answered. “But if it makes you happy, then go for it.”
“I think I’ll let fall run its course first.” She glanced at him with a smile. “I can’t miss bonfires and hayrides and pumpkins.”
“And Thanksgiving?”
“To be fair, it’s not unheard of to have snow before Thanksgiving. Remember two years ago? We had two inches on Halloween.”
“I forgot about that. We had to reschedule our church trunk or treat event because the roads were icy.”
They came to her car, and she leaned against the door. “I love snow, but I’m fine waiting until December for it.”
“I agree.” He stood in front of her, careful not to crowd her. “I enjoyed tonight. Thank you for having dinner with me.”
“Thank you for cooking.” A wry smile curled the corners of her lips. “Are we even now?”
He twisted his lips and frowned. “I don’t know. Does that mean we can’t do this again?”
So much for playing it cool.
Her face froze, then relaxed. “There’s no law saying we can’t. But if we do, you’ll have to let me help.”
“I can work with that.”
“As long as we’re clear.” Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight, like stars shining in the sky.
“When?”
“When what?” She tilted her head, watching him.
“Can we do this again. Dinner.”
“I... I don’t know.” A short sigh sounded from her.
He looked to clarify, without pressuring. “When we can or that you want to?”
She tucked a curl behind her ear. “We’ve gone down this road before, and it didn’t turn out well.”
“That was a different time.” Before he could offer any more excuses, he stopped himself. “You are right, though, and I can’t expect you to forget all that happened.”
