Page 25 of If Love Had A Manual (Skeptically In Love #2)

Wes

I t’s been a long day. All I want is a hot shower, a beer, and maybe five minutes to sit in peace.

Instead, I pull up to Lena, Rosie, and the damn dog.

Lena is standing in the front yard, arms crossed, and waiting for me. Rosie is on the grass, giggling hysterically as the stray runs circles around her.

I don’t even make it out of the truck before Lena starts talking.

“So here’s the thing—”

I lean my head back against the seat for a second before stepping out. “Jesus. Not even a hello first?”

“Hello,” she says, then barrels on. “So, he’ s not microchipped. And if he doesn’t have a home, then the vet says he’ll have to go to a shelter.”

Shutting the truck door, I rub a hand over my face. “Good. So a loving family can take him.”

“Right,” she agrees a little too fast.

I fix her with a flat stare that says I’ve officially lost the will to live. “But?”

She winces, and I know exactly where this is going. “But…I’m attached,” she finally admits. “And Rosie loves him.”

“Don’t”—I point at her—“use Rosie to get your way.”

“I’m not!”

I glance over at Rosie, who is currently rolling around on the grass, shrieking in delight as the stray, who she clearly already considers her best friend, bounds around her. His tail is wagging so hard his entire back half moves with it. She hasn’t even noticed that I’ve arrived home.

Do I have to compete with a dog now?

I drag my eyes back to Lena. She’s still smiling. Too wide. Too innocent.

I swear to God, she’s fluttering her eyelashes, those brown eyes becoming twice as big.

Throwing out her arms, she gestures to the dog like she’s unveiling a prized piece of art. “Meet Milo.”

“You named the stray?”

“And got him vaccinated and microchipped.”

“Lena!”

“You have to admit, he looks like a Milo.”

I glance down at the dog currently terrorizing my front yard. “Milo?”

For fuck’s sake, even the dog looks up at me, already responding to the name .

“It suits him,” she says.

“Great.” I walk past her, attempting to get Rosie. “Then you can take Milo back to your apartment.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing.”

I stop walking, fighting the urge to massage my temples. “There’s always a thing.”

“The vet says he’s going to be kind of big, so my apartment isn’t exactly the best place for him, and I’m not allowed pets,” she rambles, knotting her fingers in the hem of her sweater.

“Are you kidding me?” My eyes drop to the lower lip she’s currently abusing between her teeth.

Eyes on the nanny’s face. Look her in the eyes when she’s ambushing you.

She takes a strategic step closer. “Wes, he won’t be a bother. He’ll be with me all day. It’s just evenings and maybe weekends. I can smuggle him into my apartment sometimes if he gets too much.”

“So, what you’re saying is…you want me to have a dog.”

“No,” she says sweetly. “I want us to have a dog.”

I wait a beat. “No.”

She groans, throwing her hands up. “It’s just a dog, Wes. Every family needs a dog.”

Family. My mind snags on that word. The idea of me, Rosie, and Lena having a dog together like some kind of… I shake my head, letting out a half-laugh.

But then Rosie comes toddling over and grabs onto my leg. She looks up at me, all bright-eyed and giddy, while Milo trots around her, tail wagging like it might detach. They’re the picture of happiness.

I look back at Lena because it wouldn’t surprise me if she coached them to do this.

Her eyes are filled with something too soft, too dangerous.

I don’t know how we got here.

But somehow, against all logic, I hear myself sigh and say, “Fine, but I’m not walking him.”

Lena squeals. Rosie claps. The stray barks.

And just like that…I’ve lost.