That’s right. This is a family trip to the dog park.
But on the corner ahead, I spot a familiar building demanding a brief detour.
“Hey. Pull in here. Wanna take a quick trip through the drive-through.”
“More caffeine?” She raises a slim brow and shoots me a smirk before pulling into the parking lot of the coffee shop. “Didn’t I see you drink half of a pot this morning?”
“You can never have too much coffee.” My thumb sneaks along the rough calluses adorning her knuckles.
“As a dietitian, I can tell you with great confidence that, yes, in fact, you can. And this officially makes me an enabler.”
The car rolls to a gentle stop behind a minivan taking its turn at the speaker. While we wait, I tug Luna’s hand up toward my mouth, pressing my lips against the thin skin of her wrist. One of the few delicate places on her.
“Charlie.” She says my name with censure, but doesn’t try pulling away.
I trail kisses to her palm, then gently bite the meaty part at the base of her thumb.
“You’re impossible.” Luna lets me keep her hand as she drifts the car forward as the minivan moves. “Do you think you can hold off long enough to order what you want?”
No matter how much she tries to scold me, I can pick up the breathless note in her voice. Reluctantly, I pause tasting her in order to lean toward the driver’s-side window.
“What can I get for you today?” The voice crackles out of a speaker.
“One small black coffee with cream and one puppuccino, please.”
“Puppuccino?” Luna mutters, her hot breath brushing against my ear because of my position.
I tilt my chin to press a quick kiss to her mouth. She gasps in a breath, tempting me to sneak my tongue past her lips. But the worker asks for confirmation of my order. Finished, I settle back in my seat.
Luna glares at me, but there’s no heat in her eyes. At least none from anger.
As Luna pulls the car toward the window, our pittie starts wiggling and whining in excitement.
“Check this out. Can’t drive down this stretch of road without getting Pig a puppuccino.”
When the window opens, I spy a vaguely familiar face.
“It’s Pig!” the coffee shop employee crows. The girl peers through Luna’s window and spots me. “Charlie! Hey!”
“Hi!” I wave, remembering I saw her last time Pig and I came through here, which was only a couple of days ago.
We’re becoming regulars.
“Here are your drinks!” The girl passes Luna a cardboard cup carrier, holding a normal-sized coffee and a smaller cup, filled to the brim with whipped cream.
“This is a puppuccino.”
To demonstrate, I pick up the smaller cup and hold it tight as Pig attempts to stuff her entire brick-shaped muzzle into the minuscule cup. Her wildly wagging tail practically shakes the car.
“Oh my God.” At Luna’s exclamation, I shoot her a grin, enjoying the baffled delight in her slack-jawed face. “How often do you get her one?”
I shrug. “Whenever we happen to be driving by.”
Which may or may not be multiple times a week.
Luna shakes her head as she pulls us back out onto the road, but I can see the wry curve of her lips. “You’re spoiling our dog. I think you treat her better than most people treat their children.”
My chest nearly explodes with happiness every time she says “our dog.” Does Luna see Pig that way? As belonging to both of us?
