vagina?”
He, too, appeared rather surprised by the conversation shift. His feet crept closer to the door as his mouth turned down in a Robert De Niro grin. “Yes. Yes, I am. Is that a problem? We could talk about the general health of my penis if you want. It’s good, by the way. Strong.” He paused to flex. “Cat like reflexes—”
“Get out.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna go.” He edged into the hall. “We won’t mention the subject of your juice box again.”
Stone faced, she asked, “My what?”
His hand curled around the knob. “Penis...fly trap?” It was like he had some sort of Tourette’s.
“Stop talking now.”
“Bajingo?”
Even the dog was staring at him, judging him. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“The down stairs?”
She was done responding.
Easing out the door, he guessed, “The bunny tuft?” The door closed and he yelled, “The Pink Mink!”
She faced the dog and shook her head. “That’s your new owner. I won’t let him name you after an ugly cat, don’t worry.”
Her tongue lulled out and she panted, which Emma took as gratitude.
As it turned out, pet supplies were wildly expensive and addicting. Half the items in her bag were probably unnecessary, but didn’t Marla—that’s what she named her—need a matching pink, bedazzled collar to go with her bedazzled leash?
By the time they returned to the loft Emma was in love. Marla was an enormous cuddle bug, who thought she was the size of a kitten. It was like having an endless supply of affection available. With very little respect for personal boundaries, they immediately became close friends.
When Emma used the bathroom, Marla scratched at the door and barged in, squeezing into the small space so they could be together for all things. If Emma went to the kitchen to grab a drink, Marla followed.
It occurred to her that she should probably have some ground rules for the dog, like no climbing on furniture, but she was so at home Emma didn’t want to discourage her from settling in. Marla did prefer Rarity’s bed to all the others, though, and that was going to be a problem. She continuously shut the door to Rarity’s room, but Marla, being a solid eighty-pound chocolate lab, plowed right through that barrier.
They’d figure it out later. When Emma decided to call it a night, Marla was sprawled out on Rarity’s bed sound asleep. She smiled, thinking having a dog wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Once washed up and changed into her pajamas, she climbed into bed and settled. Two seconds later the soft ticking of Marla’s nails on the wood floor followed and the enormous dog bounded into bed with her, rocking the mattress like a life raft in a typhoon.
Warm and soft, she curled into Emma’s side and let out a contented snuffle. Emma smiled. She hadn’t expected to love again so quickly, nor had she expected a dog to be the focus of her affection. If anything, Marla was loyal and that was something Emma could appreciate—something that deserved love.
Chapter Six
––––––––
T he afternoon sun warmed his face as he relaxed on the picnic blanket. Voices carried over the soft breeze as people wandered across the grass. The dog appeared quite happy to learn there was a park so close to her new home.
Emma sighed. “I’ve been thinking we should put signs up with Marla’s picture in case her real owners are looking for her.”
Riley watched as Emma played a slow game of toss with the dog, which was now called Marla. They’d left their number with the local vets and pet store, but hadn’t heard anything. “That’s probably the right thing to do.” But imagining someone taking the cuddly brown animal away wasn’t easy. One sign should do the trick, one sign, hung upside down on a payphone, by the far East Side.
“Marla, fetch!” she tossed the pink tennis ball from where she sat on the grass. Everything the dog owned was pink, which made the morning walks a test of masculine
He, too, appeared rather surprised by the conversation shift. His feet crept closer to the door as his mouth turned down in a Robert De Niro grin. “Yes. Yes, I am. Is that a problem? We could talk about the general health of my penis if you want. It’s good, by the way. Strong.” He paused to flex. “Cat like reflexes—”
“Get out.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna go.” He edged into the hall. “We won’t mention the subject of your juice box again.”
Stone faced, she asked, “My what?”
His hand curled around the knob. “Penis...fly trap?” It was like he had some sort of Tourette’s.
“Stop talking now.”
“Bajingo?”
Even the dog was staring at him, judging him. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“The down stairs?”
She was done responding.
Easing out the door, he guessed, “The bunny tuft?” The door closed and he yelled, “The Pink Mink!”
She faced the dog and shook her head. “That’s your new owner. I won’t let him name you after an ugly cat, don’t worry.”
Her tongue lulled out and she panted, which Emma took as gratitude.
As it turned out, pet supplies were wildly expensive and addicting. Half the items in her bag were probably unnecessary, but didn’t Marla—that’s what she named her—need a matching pink, bedazzled collar to go with her bedazzled leash?
By the time they returned to the loft Emma was in love. Marla was an enormous cuddle bug, who thought she was the size of a kitten. It was like having an endless supply of affection available. With very little respect for personal boundaries, they immediately became close friends.
When Emma used the bathroom, Marla scratched at the door and barged in, squeezing into the small space so they could be together for all things. If Emma went to the kitchen to grab a drink, Marla followed.
It occurred to her that she should probably have some ground rules for the dog, like no climbing on furniture, but she was so at home Emma didn’t want to discourage her from settling in. Marla did prefer Rarity’s bed to all the others, though, and that was going to be a problem. She continuously shut the door to Rarity’s room, but Marla, being a solid eighty-pound chocolate lab, plowed right through that barrier.
They’d figure it out later. When Emma decided to call it a night, Marla was sprawled out on Rarity’s bed sound asleep. She smiled, thinking having a dog wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Once washed up and changed into her pajamas, she climbed into bed and settled. Two seconds later the soft ticking of Marla’s nails on the wood floor followed and the enormous dog bounded into bed with her, rocking the mattress like a life raft in a typhoon.
Warm and soft, she curled into Emma’s side and let out a contented snuffle. Emma smiled. She hadn’t expected to love again so quickly, nor had she expected a dog to be the focus of her affection. If anything, Marla was loyal and that was something Emma could appreciate—something that deserved love.
Chapter Six
––––––––
T he afternoon sun warmed his face as he relaxed on the picnic blanket. Voices carried over the soft breeze as people wandered across the grass. The dog appeared quite happy to learn there was a park so close to her new home.
Emma sighed. “I’ve been thinking we should put signs up with Marla’s picture in case her real owners are looking for her.”
Riley watched as Emma played a slow game of toss with the dog, which was now called Marla. They’d left their number with the local vets and pet store, but hadn’t heard anything. “That’s probably the right thing to do.” But imagining someone taking the cuddly brown animal away wasn’t easy. One sign should do the trick, one sign, hung upside down on a payphone, by the far East Side.
“Marla, fetch!” she tossed the pink tennis ball from where she sat on the grass. Everything the dog owned was pink, which made the morning walks a test of masculine
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