Page 34 of Penn

I wait for Penn to clarify that we’re not a couple. That we’re just co-parenting a dog. But he doesn’t.

“What do you think, Dixie?” Penn asks.

“I don’t think I’m leaving without her,” I say. “How does this work?”

“We have all the paperwork ready to go,” Tim says. “Vet visits, vaccinations, tests, and purebred documentation.”

Penn pulls out his wallet and asks, “Is cash okay?”

“Perfect,” Clara says.

He counts out bill after bill, and I just stand there, a sleeping pup in my arms, as I count at least twenty-five hundred dollars. For a dog.

“Thank you, sir,” Tim says, shaking Penn’s hand. “I hope you and your girlfriend enjoy the puppy before your little one joins the world.”

I open my mouth to share that we’re not a couple, but Penn says, “Thank you. We will.”

The familiar unease hits me. Penn paid for the puppy. I knew he would, but I didn’t realize how much it would cost. I figured a few hundred at most. Not into the thousands.

When we get into the pickup, he grabs a blanket from the back he brought with us and puts it on my lap. The pup curls up on my lap and immediately goes to sleep. Like this is exactly where she planned to be today.

“That’s a lot for a puppy, Penn,” I say. “I didn’t think it would be that much.”

“Three grand for a purebred isn’t bad at all. And we have her family’s medical history as well as all the vet documentation. This is a well-cared-for puppy, and I’d have paid more than that for her.”

Three grand? Holy shit.

I can’t remember the last time I spent three grand on anything.

Actually, I don’t think I ever have.

He drives to the pet store as I sit in shock, and he helps us climb out. “Gotta keep hold of her since we don’t have a leash or collar for her yet. You got her?”

“I got her,” I say.

He pushes the cart and walks around like he’s been here a thousand times before. “Clara says she’s on a high-protein puppy kibble. Gotta find that.”

His intensity is humorous, and I laugh. “Okay, sir.”

“I kind of like that,” he says. “I’d like it in a different context, though.”

Heat floods between my legs, and I choose to ignore it. It’s been a big enough day that I don’t need to let a sexual comment derail me. “Is that the food you want?”

“Look at you! You’re a natural.”

We spend at least an hour walking around the pet store, putting things into the cart. Food bowl, filtered water fountain, memory foam bed he insists she needs, and a mountain of chew toys and treats for training.

I pick up a Lamb Chop chew toy and smile. “I used to watch reruns of this with my mom.”

“Get it. She’ll love it,” Penn says. “Probably too much, and it’ll be torn apart in three minutes. Better pick up a couple.”

Laughing, I think he’s kidding. Until I realize he’s adding three of every plush toy he’s picking out. “Why are we getting toys we know she’ll destroy?”

“Because she’ll have a hell of a lot of fun doing it.”

Next, we walk down the collar and leash aisle. I stand close to him, and I love how his body heat warms me. And his cologne sends shivers down my spine. God, this pregnancy is doing strange things to me.

I catch myself staring at his neck, the strong line of his jaw covered with a neat beard that was scruff only two days ago, and a sudden sharp wave of need hits me to the point my knees go weak.