I open the door wider, loosening my grip on the dog’s leash without letting go completely. Though I was told he’s as friendly as can be, I still need to be careful. Have to monitor his first interaction with Elowyn. Just in case.
Not caring that he’s leashed, this dog doesn’t hesitate. He sprints toward her, and I’m right behind him.
“Come here.” Like him, she can barely contain herself.
She’s already squatting, arms outstretched, smile wide.
The expression on her face… Damn, I wish I could frame it. If I had my phone or the Polaroid with me, this is the moment I’d take a picture. A million of those.
“Oh my God,” she squeals a second before he leaps forward, taking her with him to the floor.
A sigh of relief escapes me when I see she’s safe with him. More than safe, actually. Elowyn and the pup look like old friends. Him yipping gleefully. Her laughing freely. Her gorgeous heart is on display as she rubs him all over.
That’s all I need to lean in and unhook the leash.
And no, no one can ever know that heat gathers behind my eyes. Ever.
“Would you look at that?” Her joy warms me from head to toe. “Aren’t you a friendly one? What’s your name? Where did you come from?”
The feral yet adorable dog doesn’t stick around to answer. As if he’s satisfied that she’s his now, he barks before bolting off to sniff anything and everything around my studio.
“A shelter.” I help her up, mesmerized by the happiness radiating from her face. “They found him in the street, said he’s mostly a golden retriever…probably. They couldn’t tell me the rest.”
“Oh, I don’t mind his breed. He could’ve been anything at all.” She levels me with a meaningful stare. “I would’ve loved him all the same.”
The double entendre doesn’t escape me.
Poor or rich. A saint or a murderer. Elowyn never cared; she just loved me.
“The real question is, can we keep him?” she asks when I’m silent, too lost for words. “Please.”
“We certainly can’t take him back.” I lean in to kiss her, loving how she smiles against . “He’s ours.”
“Ours? As in forever ours?” She throws her arms around my neck, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Seriously? We can have a dog?”
As if sensing Elowyn’s excitement, the dog doubles back. Tail wagging, he sits dutifully next to her.
“We can have as many as you like.” I gesture toward the little ball of energy and say, “But yeah, we can and are starting with him.”
Tears gather in her eyes. She blinks, flicking her gaze to our new dog, then to me. “What’s his name?”
Of course she knows the shelter already named him.
Fuck that.
He’sourbaby now.
I draw circles over her back. “Whatever you decide.”
“Wow. Okay then. Hmm.” That grin, wide and radiating, I’ll never forget it. “Varn. Yes, I like Varn a lot. Short for Varnish.”
I grit my teeth. Goddammit, I have to stop getting emotional over this. Over Elowyn choosing to name the dog Varn because I work with varnish all the time.
“Varn.” I catch the backs of her thighs and lift her, her legs instinctively locking around me. “A beautiful name.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, chin wobbling.
Varn barks, as if thanking me too.
