I thought of Astrid. I didn’t love her. I barely knew her. But I was intrigued. And that kiss. I shifted in the straw. The soft feel of her body pressed into mine or the way she’d all but melted into the office door as I kissed the hell out of her was all I’d thought about since she’d stopped at the bar. I would see her all weekend and I planned on kissing her again. And more.

I might be a fake boyfriend, but she was into it. Into me. Us. Kissing.

“It doesn’t always work out that way,” I said.

“What’s her name? The lady who bought you.”

“Astrid.”

“Loving is easy,” she replied.

I frowned, but Claire was known for saying confusing things. “What do you mean, Sprout?”

She pursed her little lips as she considered. Then she kissed the top of Sandy’s head. “I just love Sandy. I want to keep her forever. She wasn’t even borned when there was snow on the ground and now she’s going to be mine to keep.”

“That’s true.”

“Seeing her every day, hugging her, it’s easy to love her.”

She let go of Sandy and the puppy ran off, tumbled with a sibling, then raced back to Claire and flopped down in front of her. “See? Sandy loves me too and she can’t even talk.”

“Dogs are great to love,” I admitted. I loved Maple. “They’re always happy to see you and love to give you kisses.”

“Daddy loves Sarah. He hugs her all the time. And kisses her.”

“True, but they had to work hard to be together.”

“Yeah, he said he was working on it, and he did and now she’s here. The love part was easy.”

In Huck’s case, that made sense. For me? Nah.

“And Seesaw?” I asked, calling Sawyer by what Claire had given him when she couldn’t pronounce his name properly.

She shrugged her little shoulders. “Miss Kelsey goes into town and Seesaw misses her.”

If he were a dog, he’d probably howl with loneliness that she got her own place.

“But he loves her,” she added.

“What are you saying?” I asked. “That people leave and it’s okay to love them? What does that have to do with me?”

Claire scratched her button nose. “If you hug them and it’s easy, then it’s love. Even if they go away.”

But what if they don’t come back?

That was what I wanted to ask Claire, but that was a little deep for a five-year-old. Her grandparents—my parents—had gone away and never came back. They’d climbed into their Piper Cub and crashed, dying instantly.