Page 116 of Wag More Bark Less

“They’re excited it looks like a float,” Luke corrected. “You should see how it turned out last year. I was never happier that I was on duty. You couldn’t have paid me to drive the tractor then.”

“Are you still sore at me for conning you into driving it this year?”

“Nah,” he said, his palm stroking my back as we swayed. “If that’s what it takes to shut those two old men up, I’ll agree to drive it every year.”

“I can’t decide if I want to ride on the float or stay on the sidelines to take pictures.”

“If I had it my way, you’d be riding on my lap,” Luke said, his low tone hinting at possessiveness. A quiver rumbled low in my belly, and I was suddenly eager to get him home.

Home.

For the first time in my life, that word didn’t make me squirmy or come off flat.

Maybe I was the problem. Maybe the reason I’d never found anywhere I belonged was because I hadn’t tried to belong. I hadn’t tried to stay.

“I think you should ride on the float,” Luke added. “You’re as much a part of this as any of us. There’ll be plenty of pictures. If you don’t believe me, you can look up the catastrophe of parade floats from the past five years on the town’s website.”

“That bad, huh?”

“This is the first year Dad hasn’t refused to be a part of the parade.”

“You have a pretty great family. You know that, right?”

“You say that now, but wait until dinner tomorrow. You’ll get to see us all in one place, and it’ll be absolute chaos. It’s fifty-fifty whether they accept you as one of their own or give you shit for showing up with me.”

The music slowed, and the band transitioned to their final ballad.

“Have a good night, Chief,” Lotti Daniels, the same older woman who offered to jump into the lake so Luke could rescue her during Yoga on the Water, cooed. She was dressed in a neon-orange tracksuit with a candy-corn design.

“You too, Maggie,” she added.

I lifted my cheek from Luke’s chest, surprised the woman knew my name.

“I heard you’re a Diana Davenport fan,” Lotti said.

“I am.”

“You should come to our next book club meeting. We get drunk and talk about sexy vampires. It’s a riot!”

“That does sound fun.”

“Next Tuesday. I’ll save you a seat and a margarita.” She waved as she headed toward the rope, meeting up with another taller woman smoking a cigarette. Thelma, if my memory served me correctly.

“The only thing scarier than Sunday dinner with my family is that book club,” Luke said, laughing.

“So, you’ll pick me up when I’m good and sloshed?”

“I’ll always pick you, Maggie.”

Always.

The word only existed in the frame of the final two weeks of my vacation, and yet, I yearned for it to stretch beyond that limit.

“Luke, do you think⁠—”

His phone made an earsplitting sound that caused me to recoil and cover my ear.

“Shit, sorry.” He pulled it from the pocket of the flannel I was wearing. “It’s my emergency tone.” He showed me the screen, and Officer Hudson’s name appeared. He accepted the call, putting the phone to his ear. “Hudson, what’s happening?”