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I move closer, less because of him and more because of the wiry dachshund and portly pig hog-tying his legs.

I'm in range now, near enough that he's got to see me, but too far to pretend it doesn’t matter. I slow to a near crawl, digging my heels in to steady myself against Winnie's dragging and my own cowardice.

Then, before I know it, Ian looks up, right into my eyes. His hair flops over his eyes as the dachshund takes another circle, and I can't help laughing at his predicament. It's the pig that saves him. With a noise like a truck backing up, it plants its butt and stops the mess cold.

He finally untangles himself and starts over, towing the adorable animals. Winnie's dancing on her hind legs by the time he's in talking distance. "Fancy meeting you here," he calls. He's got that smile, the one that makes it impossible for me to respond without embarrassing myself.

"We were just out for a walk on our way back from the vet. I was late with her dinner last night, so I had a lot of making up to do," I blurt out, my words tumbling out faster than I can control as if pulled by an invisible force of attraction.

“Vet?” Concern flickers in his eyes, a magnetic pull as he looks down at Winnie, drawing me closer with its intensity.

“Winnie decided I needed a heart attack today,” I say, rolling my eyes but feeling the warmth of our connection ignite. “The little faker.”

His laughter is a soft rumble that sends a thrill through me, a spark dancing in the space between us. “I’m glad it was nothing serious.”

“It was nothing at all,” I grumble, though my gaze lingers on him, the air crackling with unspoken words. I nod toward the dog and pot-belly pig weaving around his legs. “Who are these guys?”

"This is Pork,” Ian points at the slightly overweight Dachshund, “and this is Beans," he then gestures to the black pot belly pig, our eyes meeting in a charged moment.

"They’re adorable." I chuckle, leaning down to give each of the animals a little scratch under the chin, my movements slow and deliberate, as Winnie sniffs them suspiciously. “And they have the perfect names.” Our laughter mingles, creating a shimmering current that binds us together.

“They came with those names.” He seems just as tongue-tied as I am. “A few years ago, my mom fostered them when their elderly owner died. My oldest brother, Beckett, fell in love with them, and the rest is history.”

When he steps close to me, Winnie chooses this moment to announce herself in her shrillest voice, which also happens to be her normal one. Ian jumps like he's the one who just got checked out.

"She’s definitely a little diva," he says, rubbing his ear.

She starts another round of howling, and I pick her up. Ian grins down at us, and I feel the crazy urge to drop everything and kiss him.

To control my urges, I bounce Winnie like the baby I always say she is, and the chaos around us reaches a nice level of cute. Beans grunts, Ian chuckles, Pork jumps, Winnie screeches, and I feel right at home. Just like the chaos of my third-grade classroom.

My stomach suddenly decides to cut in and growls loud enough to be heard above all the chaos.

"Would you like to grab lunch while these guys play?" Ian asks, pointing at the hot dog vendor in the parking lot.

“I’d love to,” I agree before I’m able to talk myself out of it.

He gives me the kind of look that turns my insides to goo. "Great."

There's nothing else to do but fall in step beside him and see where this goes.