Page 68 of Will Bark for Pizza (Bluebell Springs #1)

FIFTY-SEVEN

BECKETT

“You did good, Beckett,” Aspen said, scanning the bookstore apartment one last time for any final detail we may have missed.

“Really damn good,” Alyssa agreed, fluffing one of the throw pillows for the cozy corner sectional. Some color Aspen called dusty rose .

“Couldn’t have done it without some help.”

“If Kira doesn’t beg you to marry her and give her babies when she sees this, there’s no hope for you,” Alyssa added.

“That good, huh?” I said on a chuckle.

“This has been her dream since she was nine,” Aspen explained. “I don’t think she figured out she wanted to be a writer until college, but she always talked about it when she was a kid. I’m sorry to say you’ve probably set the bar pretty high for yourself. You’ll have a hard time topping this.”

The room sparkled with all the twinkle lights along the ceiling and tucked into the custom bookshelves, which were painted white, at Lila’s insistence, and filled mostly with decorative items. Filling them with books, I was informed, was something Kira would want to do.

“The flowers aren’t too much, are they?” I asked of the enormous bouquet of local wildflowers resting on the L-shaped writing desk near the window.

A desk I custom built. I considered red roses, but I felt those might send too strong a message.

Even if I was planning to ask her to make what had been growing between us official.

“The flowers are perfect,” Aspen reassured me.

“Nervous?” Alyssa teased.

“Hell yeah, I am.”

“Good,” they said in unison. Husker looked up at them, seeming to agree.

I hoped they were right. Because after Kira closed the bookstore today, I planned to bring her up and show her. I planned to tell her I was falling for her and didn’t want to sneak around anymore. I wanted her to be my girlfriend.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but I didn’t want to move too fast, too soon. I was sure about her, and that was all that mattered to me. I would wait as long as I needed for her to meet me in the middle.

“What do you think, Husker?”

Husker tilted his head at that sharp angle, and we all laughed.

“I think that means he approves,” Alyssa said.

“Or he just wants the treat in your pocket,” Aspen added.

Husker perked at the word treat . I didn’t know if I’d ever met a more food-motivated dog in my life. After I showed Kira her new writing loft—and broke it in if she so desired—I’d take us out for pizza. Her, me, and Husker.

“Here you go, buddy,” I said, extracting a treat from my pocket. One of many I had stashed for the day. I waited for him to finish chomping before I clicked the leash back on his collar. “Now, let’s go support your mom on her big day.”