“Today.”
I couldn’t even remember when the idea of adopting a puppy had first come up. It wasn’t one of those “Hey, let’s get a dog” conversations that happened one morning over coffee. It started with Nolan’s subtle yet wishful glances at golden retrievers as we strolled past them when they and their owners were out for a walk. Then a few weeks ago Nolan stopped to pat one dog we’d seen a number of times, and his longing for one almost knocked me over. We spoke to the owner for a few minutes, and the next thing I knew, we were contacting the breeder from whom the man had adopted his dog. The woman and her dogs came highly recommended, and one of her dogs had recently given birth to a new litter.
Somehow I survived the agonizingly long wait before the radio event finally finished. All I could think about the entire time was our adorable puppy and how he was soon coming home with us. To be a family.
After we said our goodbyes, we drove to the address we had been to one other time. Adopting a puppy from a breeder wasn’t like picking out a puppy at a pet store. We had already visited the breeder so she could determine whether we were the right couple for one of her babies.
“Are you sure about this?” Nolan asked. But any uncertainty he might have felt wasn’t about getting a dog. Rather, it was because he was leaving soon on a long tour to support the new album Pushing Limits had just released.
“Positive. It’ll be nice to have someone to keep me company while you’re off flirting with all those groupies.” My tone was light and breezy, and I smirked as he pulled up to the breeder’s home. I was kidding, of course. I knew he would be friendly with his fans, because that was part of his job. But there was a thin line between being friendly and flirting, and I trusted that Nolan wouldn’t cross it.
Without a word, he parked the car in front of the simple two-story house and we climbed out. Unlike back in Minnesota, spring had paid L.A. a visit more than a month ago. The trees and plants and sweet fragrant flowers in the well-tended garden were lush and green.
Nolan was still oddly silent as we walked toward the path leading to the front door. I was about to tell him I was kidding, in case he hadn’t figured it out for himself, when he grabbed my waist and pulled me close.
“The only flirting I’ll be doing is with you.” He leaned down, his mouth close to my ear, and murmured, “When you’re talking to me on the phone. Naked.”
“Oh, you think so?” I murmured back, my legs weak at the thought of hot phone sex with my equally hot boyfriend while he was on the road. At least I had something to look forward to, other than his safe return.
“I definitely think so.” He ran his tongue along my neck, and heat ignited between my legs. God, the man was such a tease.
But the part I’d said about having someone to keep me company was true. Other than Alyssa, I’d only made a few new friends since the move to L.A., and they were more like casual work acquaintances—not people I could see getting close to. A puppy was exactly what I needed to keep me from missing Nolan too much while he toured with the band.
Nolan stepped away, and my body instantly missed his closeness. “As much as I want to taste you,” he said with a groan, “that’s gonna have to wait a little longer.” He threaded his fingers with mine, and we walked along the path to the front door. The freshly awoken ache between my legs cursed him the entire way.
I rang the doorbell, and less than a minute later Gail opened the door and we were ushered into the house. It might have been a simple two-story house on the outside, but inside, the home was warm and welcoming. Gail was originally from Scotland, and while her accent might have softened over the years, her love for her Celtic roots hadn’t. She also loved plaid. I mean really loved plaid.
“They’re looking forward to seeing ye.” No sooner had she said the words than six chubby seven-week-old puppies bounded toward us from the kitchen. Their cuteness factor was way over the top, and I wished we could’ve adopted them all. Choosing just one had been next to impossible.
They tumbled into each other in their haste to get to us. The slightly curled up edge of the rug sidetracked one puppy, who chewed on it instead.
“How ’bout we go into the backyard with them?” Gail walked toward the kitchen, where the back door was located. They must have sensed where she was going, because they all charged after her, including our little boy, Rocky. The name was both a tribute to Nolan’s first dog, Lucky, and a symbol that Nolan would always be my rock star—both in the musical sense and otherwise.