The early morning sunlight was already warm and wherever it settled and rested, filtering down through the trees, the grass glowed electric. Jase looked around, the feeling of awe he was growing so familiar with, welling up in him. Like they sensed and shared his sentiments, the puppies bumbled about in clumsy, ecstatic leaps, tripping over their own paws and each other in joy.
With more than an hour to spare before he needed to start work, Jase sat down cross-legged to watch their antics—and, too late, realized the lawn was damp with dew. Oh well, a soggy butt was a small price to pay.
“Oh! They are more perfect every day!” The breathless exclamation came from behind him and expressed Jase’s own feelings. He turned his head, and saw Mo bounding toward him with the same energy and loose-jointed lack of coordination as the pups, her slightly lopsided pigtails bouncing. She flopped down beside Jase in the grass, and the puppies, as delighted with her as she was by them, frolicked over and proceeded to climb on her lap, frantically licking her face and arms. Mo squealed with glee—and Jase wanted to do the same when Aisha came into view from behind a tree.
“Hey,” he said.
Aisha’s eyes crinkled and she plunked down beside him. Close. His heart leapt. “Hey yourself.”
“Mooooom,” Mo crooned dramatically. “They’re sooo cute. I could die.”
Aisha laughed. “I don’t think anyone’s died from cuteness, Mo-bean.”
“Good thing,” Jase agreed, “or with you guys and these two mutts around, I’d be a goner.”
Aisha groaned but her face was all smiles.
The male pup got carried away with the excitement of fresh air and so much affection and nipped at the dangling sleeve of Mo’s dress. “Oh, bad plan, Mo. Don’t let them bite, even just playing. It’s not good training. They’ll be big dogs.”
“Right,” Mo agreed immediately. “No biting, Cutie,” she said in a firm no-nonsense tone. The dog backed away, probably more out of coincidence then comprehension, then plunked to his belly, definitely more out of gawky awkwardness than submissiveness—but Mo knew to reward the desired behavior. ‘Cutie’ did a full-body wiggle of pride and ecstasy when she rubbed his head and affirmed, “Good dog! Smart dog!”
“So can we?” Mo asked a second later.
Jase had obviously missed something. “Can we what?”
“Name this one Cutie?”
We. Mo’s casual inclusion was like cocoa on a cold day—and when he locked gazes with Aisha, her expression was a warm blanket with a book on the couch to go with that cocoa. His breath caught as Aisha gave a small, almost apologetic nod. “Mo likes you okay, but when she found out you’re keeping the puppies? Let’s just say you might be stuck with us.”
‘Cutie’ had started roughhousing again, making Mo giggle and Aisha smile.
“I could live with that.”
“Being stuck with us or sticking that poor dog with a horrible name like Cutie?”
“Mom!” Mo protested. “Cutie is not a horrible name. It suits him!”
Jase laughed. “Well, they do need names all right. I can’t keep calling each of them ‘dog’ forever. I’m not Sam.”
Then, looking between Aisha and Mo and the somersaulting dogs, Jase realized something he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully put together before. The elusive home he’d been searching and saving for his whole life . . . He’d been mistaken. He’d thought it was something he needed to buy or build, a specific place or structure. It wasn’t. It was people. Two people, it turned out. These two people. Although the very thought of it, that it was even a possibility, took his breath away.
Mo hopped to her feet and the pups tumbled after her as she called to them. He put his arm around Aisha for a second and squeezed—then whispered, “Is it okay to touch you in front of her?”
Aisha’s smile was brighter than the sun and was the real force that made River’s Sigh B & B glow for him. She stretched her face toward him and lightly brushed his lips with hers. “Yes,” she whispered, then settled back on the ground, her leg and hip nestled against his.
The happiness that buzzed through him was muted slightly by another realization. If they were really going to be close, if she was his home, there couldn’t be any closed doors or hidden spaces from each other. And that meant, as hard as it would be, as much as it shamed him, he needed to tell her . . . everything. And he would soon. The very next time they were alone, in fact.
“Cutieeeeee,” Mo trilled, trying to call the dog who’d become distracted by a clump of dandelions. “Cutieeeee!” The pup looked up suddenly and took a step toward Mo. “Good boy, Cutie! Good boy!” The dog liked the sound of that and took another three steps, his ears bouncing enthusiastically. “Cuuutie!” He took one more step.
“I guess ‘Cutie’ it is,” Jase said.
Mo cheered. Aisha groaned. Jase laughed.