The slight trace of pity in his voice makes me go hot all over with embarrassment. “Of course, I didn’t mind,” I say immediately, stepping back. “It was just a little rude. I don’t keep men, but I do like to say goodbye before they fuck off.”

It’s not the truth. It’s not even close. But when relief flashes over his face, I feel sick and dizzy, as if I’m in a lift that dropped too quickly. I’ve never been on this side of the conversation before. This must be how my hookups feel when I give them the brushoff in the morning. I’m just grateful I didn’t decorate my genitals.

“Shit,” he says. “I’m sorry. It was a bit rude of me.”

I shrug.

He laughs, his relief now obvious. “God, I thought for a second that you’d developed feelings.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say through stiff lips. My whole body flushes hot and cold. Am I developing feelings? I shelve that horrific thought for later.

He shakes his head, and leaning in, he kisses me softly. He smells of paint and tastes of coffee. I want to grab him close and squeeze him, but I repress that terrible urge and step back. “Come and have breakfast,” I say, making my voice light and even.

“Is that a euphemism?” His smile is wicked.

I laugh, feeling easy once more. “Don’t be an idiot. Come and have breakfast, and then I need you today.”

“Is it as a receptacle for your penis?”

I roll my eyes. “That is the least attractive thing you’ve ever said to me, Laurie, which is really saying something.” He laughs. “No, I need you to come with me. I have to pick up Don today.”

A furrow forms between his eyebrows, but it vanishes as he smiles again. “Don? Is that one of your men?”

I raise my eyebrows. “No. Don as in Armageddon. The dog you made me buy. The shelter approved me yesterday, and today I am to collect him. This was your bright idea, so you can come with me and see it through.”

“Have you given any thought to naming him something else?”

“I will think about it,” I say in a lordly fashion. “Now, come and eat. You are skin and bone.”

* * *

Two hours later, I turn to him. “I think my name was entirely appropriate, yes?”

Laurie and the lady who works at the shelter observe the red setter merrily chewing up his blanket in his cage. Water is sprayed everywhere from his bowl, and the remains of some chew toy that wasn’t up to standard are strewn in the corner. Even as we watch, he sits up and starts to howl.

“Oh, look at him. Isn’t he sweet?” the lady gushes. “He’s saying hello to his new daddy.”