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Dakota laughed at that. “What a smart boy.”

Pogo wagged his tail, seeming aware that we were all talking about him. I gave the pancake batter one final stir and set the spatula on the edge of the sink.

It tipped over the edge and fell to the floor.

Pogo instantly snapped it up in his jaws and held it for me. “Whoa. I thought you said he wasn’t a trained service dog.”

Dakota laughed. “He’s not. He’s just used to fetching things for me when I drop them. Good boy, Pogo!”

He turned, trying to drop the spatula, still dripping with pancake batter, in Dakota’s lap.

I lunged forward to grab it before it got smeared all over her clothes. She laughed. “Oh no, well you tried, Pogo, huh?”

Pogo whined while I rinsed the spatula.

I turned to look at him. He was watching me with expectant eyes. “Good boy?” I tried.

“He wants a treat,” Kit said. “There’s a box on the top shelf of the pantry. Go ahead and give him one.”

I went to the pantry, Pogo hot on my heels, and fed him a treat. After that, he stuck by me, practically tripping me at every turn, but luckily my part in the meal prep was pretty much over.

I gave the bowl of pancake batter to Kit.

He took it from me with a quick kiss. “Thanks. Go sit now. I can handle the rest.”

I smiled uncertainly, still thrown off by this warm and fuzzy version of Kit. Seeing him in his home, with his sister, was doing my head in. Because it was like catching a glimpse into a future we might have had.

If I hadn’t been me—if I’d just been a cute guy who got his number and called him for a date—maybe we’d have had a lot of mornings like this one.

“Okay, breakfast is served!” Kit pronounced with a flick of the burner. “Come and get it.”

I hopped up to go claim my share of bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes. Dakota handed me a plate, and Kit piled the food on it for me. “Is that enough? I can give you more bacon.”

“No, no. I’m good. I don’t eat that much in the morning, usually.”

“That must be how you keep that sexy bod of yours,” he teased.

“Not really. Fast metabolism.”

“You brat,” Dakota said.

“That’s usually what I call him,” Kit said with a smirk.

She wagged her eyebrows at us. “Oh, now it all makes sense. Kit wants a brat to spank.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“He doesn’t spank me!” I exclaimed as I retreated to the table, nearly tripping over Pogo again in my hurry to get away.

She laughed so hard she nearly dropped her plate. “Your face. Oh, my god. I think I got a little too close to the truth!”

“Stop tormenting him,” Kit said. “You can tease me, but Joey is an only child. He doesn’t know how to take it.”

She giggled. “Sorry, Joey. You’re just too cute when you blush. I can’t resist.”

I glowered. “I’m not blushing.”

Kit snorted. “Sorry, babe, but that’s definitely a blush.” He came over to the table and brushed a thumb over my cheek. “But Kota’s right. It’s very cute.”