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“What?”

“Was she pretty?”

“No.”

“Was that answering the question or telling me to stop?”

“Yes.”

She laughs behind me.

This conversation is over.

Unfortunately, I have a feeling Callie Quinn will make sure it isn't.

I carry everything inside, then pause before putting her suitcases beside the stairs. I didn’t consider the sleeping arrangements.

If she’s in my bed, she’ll think we’re getting married. But putting her in the extra bedroom doesn’t feel right.

Callie drops her laptop bag near the couch and sets her purse on the counter like she's done it a thousand times. Then she disappears back into the garage.

I watch her go.

Alibi looks up at me.

“You have more luggage than I do.”

His tail wags.

“That wasn't a compliment.”

Callie comes back carrying his bed. I stare at it.

She stops. “What?”

“You brought his bed?”

“Of course I brought his bed.”

“He has a bed here.”

Her eyebrows rise. I realize what I said. Again.

“He does?”

“The spare room.”

A slow smile spreads across her face. “Roman.”

“Don't.”

“You just said Alibi has a bed here.”

“He slept in it once.”

She gives me a smug smile, then walks past me carrying the dog bed.

“Where are you going?”