McKinley hauled ass through the rest of her shift keeping a watchful eye on Dunes, as they’d dubbed the dog. He’d settled comfortably under the glass washer on a Memphis Bowling League windbreaker they’d liberated from Lost and Found and tapped the tip of his tail every time she passed.

She’d put her customers to work, having them contact the local animal rescues. Each confirmed what the others had: no one had any room for him tonight.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a dog for the night,” Chelsea said with a yawn. It was getting late and the crowd was starting to thin.

“Shit,” McKinley sighed, eyed Dunes as she swiped a towel over the bar where a family of four adults had enjoyed every frozen drink on the menu. “Looks like it,” she sighed. She wasn’t exactly equipped. How was she even going to get him into the car? Hold a cheeseburger in front of his face and coax him through the parking lot? “Where’d Colt go?” she asked. It was unlike him to leave without saying good-bye. But there was a stack of bills in the shot glass that held his check.

McKinley didn’t miss the lift of Chelsea’s eyebrows, the smirk that settled on her lips. “He said he had to run some errands tonight,” she said with a shrug. McKinley remembered her mystery caller earlier. Give him a shot.

As if the patrons picked up on McKinley’s impatience to get home, the crowd slowed and dissipated a little ahead of schedule. She dismissed the kitchen crew and all the servers but Leeta half an hour early. She and Leeta sped through closing, counting the drawers and flipping stools so the early morning cleaning crew could de-sticky the floor.

“Hey, Duney,” McKinley said, ducking down to peer at him in his doggy den. “It’s time to go home. Well, my home. You don’t have one yet, but I’ll make sure you get a good one.” He lifted his head and cocked it to the side as if he were listening.

She’d saved half of her turkey burger from her dinner break and used little nuggets of meat to guide Dunes out of the bar and into the parking lot.

Her skin tingled when she spotted the long, lean, shadow standing in front of her car. Colton Hayes with two large shopping bags at his feet. Dunes wriggled his backend, his tail wagging fiercely as if they were best friends.

“What’s all this?”

Colton smiled kneeling down to ruffle Dunes’ ears. “Figured you’d need a few supplies.”

Curiosity got the best of McKinley and she browsed through the bags while he ran his hands down Dunes’ skinny body. She found dog bowls, a small bag of fancy dog food, a leash and collar, a menagerie of toys—stuffed and rubber—and a very soft bed.

“Colton, you didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re taking him home. You didn’t have to do that,” he pointed out.

McKinley sighed, suddenly exhausted. The dog looked up at her with canine adoration. “Thank you,” she said grudgingly.

Colton gave her that crooked smile. “You’re welcome.

She looked at him hard for a long minute. This was the first time he hadn’t asked her out and this was the first time she wished he would.

“So, you’re gonna want to go easy on the food for him tonight since he ate a lot already. You don’t want him getting sick in your bed,” Colton said, standing up.

“He’s not sleeping in my bed. He smells like a sewer.”

Colton handed her a bar napkin.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“My number. Just in case you need anything tonight… with the dog.”

McKinley looked down at Dunes, who was leaning against her leg and watching Colton happily. She sighed a long drawn out sigh of resignation.

“When I was a kid, I wanted to design beach bikes and sell them from a stand on the boardwalk.”

His mouth lifted in the charming as sin, crooked grin.

He’d ridded her of a drunk and hand-delivered dog necessities. It was time to break the rules. “Do you want to have lunch tomorrow?”

It was too dark to read Colton’s expression exactly but the straightening of his shoulders, the cocking of his head told her he was surprised.

“I’d like that,” he said easily.

She was relieved that he didn’t press her on why exactly, after turning him down a thousand times, she’d changed her mind. He simply accepted it.

“Okay then.” McKinley nodded and opened the door to her backseat. Dunes jumped in as if he’d done it a thousand times before. “I’ll call you,” she said.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Was she blushing? Was that an actual blush turning her cheeks a heated scarlet? Crap she was out of practice.

---

---

McKinley felt like an idiot. She’d changed her outfit three times. Finally settling for a cute pair of patterned shorts and a simple peach tank. Perfect for the Florida summer.

“Don’t judge me,” she said, looking at Dunes in the reflection of her mirror. “I don’t date. Technically this is your fault.” The dog yawned and rolled over on her sunny yellow comforter exposing his belly. Dunes had ignored his nice new dog bed last night in favor of McKinley’s comfortable queen-size. After a bath that had turned her tub a gag-worthy shade of brown, of course.

She and Dunes had shared a breakfast—dry food for him and an omelet for her—and then taken a long, slow walk around her neighborhood and onto the beach. And now she was about to spend her Sunday afternoon with a man that she was not mentally prepared to date.

“This is the worst idea in the world, “she said to her reflection. But her reflection didn’t care. It was smiling.

She grabbed her phone and fired off the text she’d been waffling on sending.

---

McKinley: Hey. It’s McKinley from Sunset Point. I’ll be ready in about half an hour. I can meet you somewhere.

---

Good. No emojis. No exclamation points. Nothing to get his hopes up about anything beyond lunch. It was just lunch. It wasn’t like they were going to have sex. This was a casual, trial date.

Her phone rang fifteen seconds later. She rolled her eyes and answered.

“I’ll pick you up, “Colton’s voice said warmly in her ear.

“That’s okay. I can just meet you somewhere.”

“I have some things for Dunes that he’ll need.”

“What kind of things?” she hedged.

“The kind of things that will keep him occupied while he’s alone. I’ll meet you at your place. Text me your address.”

She muttered a good-bye and hung up on the smile she could hear in his voice.

“I hope you’re happy, Dunes.”