Chapter 12
JULIET
TWO WEEKS LATER
I stood barefoot in the kitchen, sautéing a pan of vegetables on the stove. Cupid sat at my feet, her big brown eyes fixed eagerly on what I was doing.
As it turned out, she didn’t have a family that was looking for her. The vet offered to put us in touch with a local rescue, but I couldn’t bear to part with her. If we’d been reuniting her with a family that loved her, that would have been one thing, but there was no way was I sending her off to find a home when she had a perfectly good one right here.
Cupid’s ears perked up, hearing the key in the lock before I did. She trotted over to the door right as Mason opened it, her tail wagging eagerly.
“Honey, I’m home,” Mason joked, flashing me a dazzling smile. I liked those smiles so much more now that I knew they were just for me. Mason hadn’t officially moved in, but he had been at my apartment more often than not since Christmas.
“How are my girls?” he asked, scruffing Cupid behind the ears and roughhousing with her the way she liked. I’d insisted she needed a Christmas-themed name, and he suggested naming her after one of Santa’s reindeer. My vote had been for Blitzen, but he’d wanted to call her Cupid since she was the one who’d brought us together.
“We’re good,” I said. I was between gigs at the moment, but I’d had a meeting earlier with a new agent that would help me fill in the gaps with other entertainment jobs. While gymnastics and aerial work were where my heart lay, having other gigs in the meantime would help with paying the bills, especially now that I had multiple mouths to feed.
“We learned a new trick,” I said, wiping my hands off on a towel and crossing over to Mason for a kiss. “Oh, we did? What kind of trick?” Mason asked, cocking one eyebrow at me.
“Cupid, spin!” I commanded.
In an instant, the dog stood on her hind legs, dancing in a circle. Once she completed a full rotation, she dropped back onto all fours, her tail wagging enthusiastically.
Mason laughed, a deep, warm sound that I loved.
“You going to take up dog training now?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tight against his chest. I moved carefully, mindful of his bruises. They were finally starting to heal, but I knew they still hurt more than he was willing to let on.
“Nope. I’m a one-dog kind of woman,” I said, kissing his nose.
“As long as you’re also a one-man kind of woman, I’m good with that.”
Mason pressed his lips against my crown in the most tender of kisses, and I sighed happily.
I definitely was.
THE END