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I turned. Him. Down.
I close my eyes and thinkyou did the right thingthree times before I’m ready to go inside.
Because I absolutely did do the right thing. I don’t know if I’ll have a job here after December. I don’t know if I’ll have a jobanywhereafter this wedding and Yulefest are over. Most of all, I don’t know if Seb’s ready for Charly. He barely interacted with her the other night.
We’re here for a month—possibly a few weeks longer, depending on if Carson needs me here for all of Yulefest. I don’t have time to waste on a relationship that has no potential.
After reminding myself of all those things, I walk to the side door. Before I even knock, I hear Gia, but I don’t understand what she’s saying. When she doesn’t answer the door, I let myself in.
I’m greeted by a string of what must be Italian coming from the kitchen, along with a high yipping sound, and Sebastian’s voice in English.
“Ma! I know! I’m sorry! I didn’t think she had to go.”
I rush to the door, hoping he’s not talking about Charly, but when I hurry from the mudroom into the kitchen, Seb is chasing a brown and white puppy around the table. Charly is in Gia’s arms, giggling like crazy, kicking her legs to get down.
“No, bambolina, stay with Miss Gia,” Gia holds her closer, but even though Charly is small for her age, so is Gia.
“What is happening?” I say over the commotion.
As soon as Charly sees me, there’s no holding her anymore. She escapes Gia, but instead of running to me, she joins Seb in trying to catch the puppy. Which delights the puppy, who yips louder.
“Doggy!” Charly crawls under the table, and the puppy runs out toward Gia.
She runs into the next room, cursing in Italian before hopping onto the couch. “Get it! Before it pees again!”
Seb rushes into the other room with Charly toddling behind.
“Charly! Come to mama!” I scoop her up around her waist while she cries, “Doggy, doggy, doggy!"
Seb dives for the dog, but it darts past him, straight for me. I run back to the tile-floor kitchen, hopping over a yellow puddle. After I clear it, I crouch, maneuvering Charly onto my lap.
With my palm out, I make kissy noises that draw the puppy to me. It puts its legs up on my knees and Charly’s legs, which thrills her.
I help her gently stroke its head. The puppy tries to crawl into my lap too, so I scoop it up, holding it in one hand and Charly on my other hip.
“How did you do that?” Seb asks as he walks over.
“You’ve never had a puppy before, have you? Chasing makes them run more.” I hand the dog to him.
As soon as it’s in his hands, it pees. A yellow stream flows down his wrist, into the sleeve of his gray Sparks Electric shirt.
“Come on, dog!” He sets her down, but not before she sprinkles the front of his shirt and pants.
“You deserve it, bringing an animal into my house,” Gia says, walking past him into the mudroom.
I can’t hold my laugh and Charly anymore. They’re both squirming to get away from me. I let her down, and the puppy jumps on her legs, and I pretend that’s what I’m smiling about.
The puppy is too small to knock her over, but I’m still surprised when instead of being scared, Charly sits on the floor and lets the puppy climb all over her.
Gia comes back from the mudroom holding a freshly-ironed, men’s shirt I’d seen hanging next to the dryer. She hands it to Seb, then waits, palm up, while he unbuttons his shirt.
And while I’m fascinated by the dynamic that’s happening between them, I’m more fascinated by the chest that emerges as Seb undoes each button, slowly, one –by one. Then equally fascinated by each ab that appears next.
I’m less enthralled by the smirk on his face when he catches me staring.
“I’m not a… What’s the word? Person who takes care of zoos. Children only!” Gia complains, oblivious to the fact Seb and I have locked eyes.
“Zookeeper,” he says without looking away from me.
