Page 25 of Always Almost You

Mike shrugged, focusing on the dog’s back leg. “I grew up with them. There’s never been a time in my life when I’ve been without one.” His voice softened. “Until now.”

“What will you do tomorrow?” Lauren asked.

“My flight was supposed to take me to Charleston,” he said. “The cold front is predicted to pass by noon tomorrow. Roads heading south ought to be clear. It’s a beautiful ride.” He glanced at the dog. “I decided earlier tonight to rent a car and drive the rest of the way. I’ll take him with me and stop at a vet to see if he has a microchip before I hit the road.”

Lauren watched his hands, steady, careful, and warm against the golden fur.

“A good boy like this has to have a family,” Mike murmured. “Right, buddy?”

The dog wagged his tail and gave Mike an enthusiastic lick across the chin. Mike chuckled, wiping his face with the towel. He didn’t see the tenderness in Lauren’s expression as she watched him.

“I’ll be right back with supplies.” She returned moments later, carrying a bowl, a generous portion of kibble, several treats, and the squeaky Grinch toy she’d planned to give Pumpkin on Christmas morning. She’d bundled everything into the complimentary laundry bag from her closet and set it inside the door.

Water ran softly again in the bathroom as Mike continued speaking in low, reassuring tones.

Lauren closed the door behind her and returned to her room, Pumpkin padding at her heels.

Her intuition assured her of one thing. Mike wasn’t just rescuing a stray. He was getting himself a dog for Christmas.

CHAPTER 20

Lauren wadded up her pair of Christmas pajamas and stuffed them, along with Pumpkin’s food bowl, into her carry-on. She glanced at the bed, where Pumpkin’s low-pitched snore rumbled against a pillow. Lauren grinned. It was obvious her girl was in no hurry to venture back out into the freezing weather.

She scanned the room one last time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Her gaze fell on the note she had written before falling asleep. It lay on the desk, written on hotel stationery and tucked inside an envelope addressed simply:

Mike

Lauren hadn’t sealed it. She’d left it open so she could reread it in the morning in case she wanted to change anything. She unfolded the letter.

Dear Mike,

I can’t thank you enough for everything you did for Pumpkin and me yesterday. Without your help, I might have lost her. I can’t bear to think about that.

The airline booked me on an early flight, so, if I don’t run into you again, I wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas. I hope your travels are without delay.

Her eyes hovered over the signature.

She had rewritten that part twice—changing Sincerely to Warmly, then finally settling on a simple smiley face beneath which she had written:

Lauren & Pumpkin, followed by her cell phone number and email address.

A small grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. She reached for the pen again and added a postscript.

P.S. I hope that sweet golden retriever stays with you and becomes your new buddy.

She folded the letter carefully and slid it back into the envelope. Then her head snapped up. What if there was a better way to thank him? She glanced at the clock. She needed to be on the airport shuttle departing in thirty minutes. There was enough time.

Lauren quietly removed her wallet from her carry-on, grabbed her room key, and slipped on her shoes. Before stepping into the hallway, she hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside of her door. With any luck, she’d be back before Pumpkin stirred.

Lauren jogged down the corridor to the lobby. One of the double doors that led into the gift shop gaped open. A lone clerk was surveying the disheveled displays and making notes on a clipboard. Lauren stepped inside.

“I’m sorry,” the clerk said. “We’re not open yet.”

Lauren didn’t slow. She headed straight for the Christmas pajama display. “The only thing I need is this,” she said, lifting the extra-large dog pajamas that matched the ones she and Mike had purchased the night before. They were the same ridiculous, joyfully over-the-top red flannel.

“My register isn’t open,” the clerk said.

“Can I pay for it at the front desk when I check out?” Lauren asked. “I’m leaving on the next shuttle, and I really need these.”