“Hey, Princess,” I whisper, coming to the first dog’s cage. The sign says Black Lab mix, and that’s probably accurate enough. Part black Lab, part something that makes her nose squished, and something else that makes her tale fluffy and curly like a Husky’s.

I open the cage and slip on the leash. Her tail swishes back and forth in the universal dog sign for love, happiness, and dinnertime.

A lot of the dogs I can walk two at a time, but Princess needs special treatment. It’s almost as if she gets sad to have to share my attention with anyone else, so I’ve taken to walking her on her own.

I wrap my scarf around my neck, and we go out the back door and through the play area to the gate. The snow crunches under our feet as we walk. The air is frigid, but the sun is shining today and the sky is blue. More snow is coming in this weekend, pretty much guaranteeing we’ll have a white Christmas.

“When are you going to adopt that dog already?”

I turn at the sound of the voice and find Sam walking behind me. He must be walking home from work. He has a long, heavy coat on, but it’s only partially buttoned, and underneath I can see he’s still dressed in a shirt and tie. “Oh, hey.”

His eyes warm with his smile and he lengthens his stride to catch up with me. “Mind if I join you?”

“I—of course not.” Dear Heart, Chill the fuck out. M’kay? Thanks. Because my heart can’t be doing somersaults at the sight of Sam anymore.

If Sam found out about River . . . about Connor . . .

My stomach mimics my heart and does a somersault of its own—but the sick kind, not the happy, fluttery kind. “How was your week?” I ask to end the silence.

“It was okay. I’ve been . . . distracted most of the week.”

We stop as Princess sniffs at a tree, then does her best to water it. “Distracted? Why?”

He cocks his head at me, and the corner of his mouth quirks in a self-conscious smile. “Weren’t you? Even a little?”

My cheeks heat. Right. Distracted. Because we spent Saturday night and the better part of Sunday morning having wild and crazy monkey sex. And it was so good, really, who could think of anything else? Only a woman who has some terrible secret to hide, that’s who.

“You’re fucking adorable when you’re embarrassed, Rowdy.”

“I’m sure,” I say. Then I give Princess’s leash a gentle tug to pull her back onto the sidewalk and we resume walking.

“Be my date to the gala on Saturday,” he says.

“What? Why?”

“I can think of a number of reasons, but I don’t want to say them out loud and embarrass the dog.” He tucks his hands in his pockets and smiles softly. “Besides, I’m told I look pretty irresistible in a tux.”

“Haven’t we already hit our one-date quota for the year?”

“My sister interrupted us, so that constitutes a do-over. I need a date, Liz. Be my date.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I’m sure that’s a terrible idea.

“It’s a great idea.”

I’ve spent most of the week rewriting Mr. Bradshaw’s speech forty different ways and trying to decide what to do about my job. I can either quit—cut line and run before Connor finds out I’m Tink24 or, worse, someone else finds out what’s been going on between us online. Or I can stick it out for a little longer and have a chance at the greatest opportunity of my life. I don’t want to lose a chance to work on Governor Guy’s campaign, so I don’t want to quit. If I’m going to keep my job and avoid Connor, wouldn’t it be better to do so with Sam by my side?

“Come on,” he whispers, sliding his hand around my waist and dipping his mouth to my ear. “I don’t think I can handle another one of these dinners without you next to me.”

“And how will I help?” I ask, but I already know I’m going to go with him. “What difference will it make having me by your side?”

“I’ll get to spend it thinking of all the filthy things I’m going to do to you after.”

Chapter Seventeen

Sam

I’m nervous. Fucking nervous about taking a woman to dinner. This isn’t like me. Being so damn distracted I can’t work isn’t like me. Wanting to bring her home and hold her all night isn’t like me.

If only it wasn’t so complicated.

I slap my steering wheel. “Fuck you, Connor.”

Because the things Liz makes me feel don’t come easily for me, but her history with my brother-in-law makes them that much more difficult. I couldn’t even take Ryann’s very simple advice to ask Liz on a date that wasn’t an already-scheduled obligation. Liz isn’t ready for that yet. She’s too busy putting up her walls, and I don’t know what it is about me that makes her do that. We touch, we fuck, it’s so damn good, and then she’s guarded all over again.

When she steps onto her front porch, all that noise melts away. God, she’s beautiful.

She’s wearing a little black dress, a short thing that shows her long, toned legs and hugs her hips. It highlights every curve and reminds me of all of my favorite places to touch and taste.

I climb out of the car and walk around to her side to open her door. “You look amazing,” I tell her as she steps in front of me.

A blush creeps up her cheeks. “Thank you.”

Then, because I can’t resist and because I want her to know she’s mine tonight, I slide my hand behind her neck and lower my mouth to hers. When I slip my tongue between her lips, the taste of her slingshots me back in time to the first time we kissed. She feels so soft and nervous that for a moment I contemplate what I’d do if I had a second chance at the night she came to Notre Dame. Maybe I’d crawl into bed after her and hold her while she slept. Maybe when she turned to me in the middle of the night and offered me something I knew I didn’t deserve, I’d take it anyway.