Shit.

My plan backfired even faster than I’d thought it would. I’d thought she would at least stay and yell at me. Tell me how horrible of a person I was. How badly I’d hurt her. Maybe flash an engagement ring in my face if she were engaged or a picture of her new hot boyfriend. I’d thought she would at least take a look at the puppy lying on the floor, chewing on my shoelaces again.

Instead, she just left. Taking her gorgeous body and smart mouth with her.

I scoop up the puppy and then run out the door after her, trying to salvage what is left of my plan. I admit now that it wasn’t a great plan. That, of course, she could run out and leave me all alone at any point. But, after seeing her again and feeling that ache return to my chest, I know I have to keep trying.

So, I run. Luckily, she doesn’t move very fast in her heels, and there are only so many places to hide in the clinic.

I grab her arm. “Wait!”

Her head whips around until her eyes are glaring at me. She still hasn’t looked at the bundle of fur in my arms.

“Why should I? You lied to me! You hurt me! You treated me like I was nothing. Like I was disposable. You’re lucky I haven’t called the police to have you arrested.”

I can hear every bit of pain that I caused her dripping off of every word. I hate that she is in pain. I hate that I am at least partially to blame for the pain. But I’m not sorry about what happened between us. Apologizing for the past would just be another lie that we would have to overcome.

Ivy’s nostrils flare, and her eyes shoot daggers as she stares at me. But then a soft black curl falls out of her ponytail, framing her face, and it’s like a shield has been lowered between us. Her eyes don’t seem as scary or angry with that curl gently hanging down in front of her face.

I hear a small whimper let out from the ball of fur that I have in my hands. She wiggles forcefully and then kicks me hard in the ribs. The puppy is doing everything it can to wiggle out of my arms. It firmly kicks me again in the ribs, and I can’t hold on to the puppy anymore. Hopefully, puppies are like cats in that they can just land on their feet without injury. But I have no idea.

The puppy leaves my hands but doesn’t fall to the ground. Instead, Ivy snatches the puppy out of the air, like she does this hundreds of times a day. I guess she does do this all day long. She easily holds the puppy and deals with the squirming like the professional that she is.

“How are you able to hold the puppy so easily without it kicking you in the ribs?” I ask, staring at her in amazement.

Ivy smiles at the puppy, who seems to have started to calm in her hands. She leans forward and lets the puppy kiss her on the cheek before she looks at me and glares again.

“Why did you get a puppy?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, challenging me to tell her the real reason I got a puppy.

There is no way I’m telling her the real reason—that I got a puppy, so I would have a reason to come see her.

“A friend of mine found her roaming his street. His girlfriend is allergic, and he couldn’t keep it, so I did.”

“It?” she says, her grimace deepening.

“Sorry. Her,” I say, wishing I could take back my mistake. I’m not doing great at getting back on her good side. I’m not even doing enough to get her to tolerate me long enough to examine my puppy.

The puppy paws at her face again, and Ivy’s grimace drops as the tiniest smile ever appears. Ivy’s eyes dart back to me and then back to the puppy.

“Come on. Let’s make sure you’re in good health. You are going to need it if you are planning on living with your new daddy,” she says, talking to the puppy, as she walks back to the exam room.

I follow behind Ivy with a large smile on my face. I just have to make it back into the exam room with them to know that she is going to give me a second chance. Maybe not a second chance at love, but a second chance to be in her life. I’ll take it.

I almost expect her to kick the door closed to the exam room before I can even enter. When she doesn’t and I’m safe in the room, I take a deep breath before shutting the door myself.

Ivy, on the other hand, isn’t paying me any attention. She has the puppy on the exam table and is checking over her entire body. Completely ignoring me.

I sigh and rub the back of my neck, trying to figure out what I should do next. Yes, I have her in the same room as me, but it’s not helpful if she won’t even look at me.

I watch as she opens the puppy’s mouth and listens to her heart as the puppy squirms on the table and tries to lick her. I take the moment to study Ivy while she is focused on the puppy, and I try to figure out my next move.

She’s wearing a dress beneath her lab coat. A dress. I’m not even sure I ever saw her wear one in the year we were dating. Yet here she is, in a dress. The dress perfectly hugs her body, showing off how curvy her body is, even while the bulky lab coat tries to hide her body. I let my eyes drop down to her legs and then the heels I noticed earlier. Heels. She’s in freakin’ heels. Either she had a date that she thought was a lot more important than any date she’d ever gone on with me or something else important happened tonight.

I try to keep the jealousy at bay as I think about her with another man. I hate that thought. But I can’t hate her for being with another man. We broke up about two years ago. I’ve been with other women since her.

But I haven’t stopped thinking about her, no matter what woman I was with.

“So, how is my puppy doing?”

She lowers the stethoscope she was using to listen to the puppy’s heart from her ears and leaves it hanging around her neck. She has a frown on her face, and I think it’s because something is wrong with the puppy. I look down at the little squirt on the table. No way something could be wrong with something so adorable.

Could it?

“She’s doing good. She seems healthy. I would guess she is around ten weeks old. Maybe a little older. She could use a good bath and a couple of good meals to fatten her up a little bit more. She’s a little small for her age.”

The lump in my throat eases. She’s not worried about the puppy. She’s just mad at me.

“If you leave her here with me, I’ll make sure she gets fed and bathed. We will be able to put her up for adoption this week. She’ll go fast. She’s adorable.”

I pick up the puppy from the table and hold her against my chest. “Why do you think I’d want to put her up for adoption?”

Ivy puts her hand on her hip and gives me a knowing look. “Because I know you. You don’t like dogs. And I can get her adopted much faster now when she is still a puppy than six months from now when you realize that she is too much work and gets too big and you can’t handle her.”

“What makes you think I don’t like dogs?” I ask.

“Because you told me that you liked them. And you lie. So, therefore, you don’t like dogs.”

I frown. I don’t know how she came to the conclusion that I don’t like dogs. I don’t love them, but I don’t hate them. I’m somewhere in the middle. More neutral. They are likable even if they are a lot of work.

“I like this dog.”

She shakes her head. “What is the dog’s name?” she asks.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ve only had her for a day. I need more time to decide on such an important decision.”

“Bullshit. The only reason you have a dog is so that you could bring her here and have an excuse to see me. You’re not going to be able to take care of her when she’s fully grown.”

“That might be why I brought her to this specific clinic. Yes, I wanted to see you! But that’s not why I have her. I have her because I like dogs!”

“And when the dog isn’t trained and pees on your expensive rugs and rips up your couch and takes over your bed, how are you going to feel then?”

“First of all, I’m going to train the dog. And she wouldn’t do that anyway,” I say, nuzzling the puppy against my face. “Would you?” I ask the puppy, who licks my face. I turn my attention back to Ivy.

“And, second, she’s a German shepherd. Those are like the easiest dogs on the planet to train. That’s why they are used as police dogs. I’ll have her trained to be the perfect dog in no time.”

Ivy tries to stifle a laugh but then quickly gives up. “I’ll make sure I have a bed for her in about six months. That’s how long I give you until you realize just how wrong you are.”

“Do you want to make any sort of bet on that?” I ask, hopeful.

She laughs. “No. I really hope I’m wrong. Because I don’t want to see your lying ass again.”

“That’s too bad. Because I plan on seeing a lot of you. I plan on making you fall in love with me again. I plan on making you mine.” Even if I have to adopt an animal a month to get her attention. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get her back.