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Maisie was about to tease him for his overt efforts, warning him about the dog attacking him, when, to her complete and total shock, Trifle stopped growling, lowered her head to the ground, and drew a step toward them.

“What the…” she began.

“That’s a good girl,” Finn cooed.

Maisie crouched down next, hoping Trifle would change her mind and go to Maisie instead, but as the dog moved one wary puffy white paw in front of the next, it was clear that Trifle still headed for Finn.

“Trifle,” Maisie called in a last-ditch effort, but it was too late.

The dog reached Finn, sniffing at his outstretched fingers. Maisie stared at his soft smile, his thighs bulging in his hunkered down position until he stood, cradling Trifle in his arms. To add insult to injury, the dog took up licking Finn’s fingers, but, then, Maisie hardly noticed.

The look of triumph in Finn’s smile, his muscles shifting in his arm as he held the little puff ball, and the soft expression in his eyes was enough to make her lose her senses. She’d never been more attracted to him.

“All right, what’d you do?” she asked, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“Nothin’,” he said with a laugh.

She shook her head, not buying it.

She leaned toward Trifle, patting her atop the head. “Never took you for a turncoat, miserable dog. And this is all after I stood out in the rain for you.”

Finn laughed, though he remained silent about his tactics.

“Seriously, what’d you do?” Maisie asked.

He stared at Maisie, his eyes shimmering with delight as he held up his fingers, the tips of them covered in a bit of brown food.

“Fifteens,” he said. “I had some leftover from yesterday. Figured the dog might enjoy it.”

Maisie’s mouth dropped open. “I knew it, you little cheater.”

He chuckled, flicking the crumbs on the ground. “Cheatin’? Or resourceful?”

“Cheating,” she stated. “When Renee finds out you’ve fed her dog that much sugar, she’s going to be livid.”

“Naw, she’ll only be grateful that I saved her precious pup.”

“You,” Maisie sniffed.

“Ach, no one likes a sore loser.”

“And what about cheaters?”

She reached up to pat Trifle’s back, still perturbed with the dog’s weak-willed character. At the same time, Finn reached to pet the dog, as well, and their fingers made contact. To her surprise, neither of them drew away.

Attraction sparked between them, their eyes locking into place, and Maisie watched as the humor in Finn’s brown eyes shifted to a palpable warmth.

What unraveled her, however, was when those eyes dropped to her lips. Her breathing stuttered to a halt, and her heart skipped beat after beat as she held her breath.

And the only thought that formed in her mind was how she couldn’t blame Trifle for being a turncoat—when Maisie, herself, had clearly forgiven Finn for his distant behavior that morning.

“I’ve got a prize idea,” she said softly, his small finger still resting against hers atop Trifle’s back. “The winner…the winner chooses where we go on a date this Saturday.”

Oh, heavens. What had she done? She’d obviously lost her mind.

But to her utter delight, Finn’s expression brightened. His lips parted, as if he’d been about to tell her what a great idea she’d had, then suddenly, his features shifted to utter regret.

“Oh,” he said, “I don’t know…”