By the time they’d made it back to the shelter’s parking lot, it was just after six and the lot was empty aside from their cars. Olivia climbed into the passenger seat of Gabe’s truck, buckled her seat belt, and tucked her hands under her thighs.

A thousand thoughts swam in her head, some of them wanting to race out her throat more than others. Knowing most of them would lead to having to tell Gabe she’d lost her best hope of a teaching job for next year, she swallowed all of them back and let him scroll through on his phone as he searched for a nearby place to eat.

“What are you in the mood for?” He rubbed two knuckles along the ridge of his chin as he scanned through his choices.

“Some place outside. It’s a perfect night.”

He was quiet a minute or two, then said, “Got it! Big Sky Café. Locally sourced. Sustainable. Great patio. And not only is it less than a mile from here, it’s dog friendly.”

“Sounds perfect. You want to go back to your place and grab Samson?”

“Ah, no. He’ll be good till we get back. I was thinking maybe what you need right now more than anything is a breakout.” He arched an eyebrow, the playful, boyish look in his eyes immediately melting some of her sorrow away.

Olivia bit her lip to keep from laughing as the arched eyebrow morphed into a waggling one. “You’re going to have to explain yourself. Because right now I’m having dine-and-dash visions, only I know that’s so not you.”

He grinned. “Not us. Your dog.”

“Morgan?”

“Is there another?”

Olivia scoped the empty lot. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s after hours. I don’t think we could bring him even if they allowed that sort of thing, which I’m not entirely sure they do.”

“I’ll text Megan and let her know.”

“Don’t you think everything’s all locked up?”

He slipped his keys from his jeans pocket. “I don’t have eight keys on here for nothing. As their vet, I’ve been granted twenty-four-hour access to this place.”

Olivia stayed quiet a few seconds, processing this. “I so want to bring him, but you may have more faith in the training I’ve put in him than is deserved. He only sits for a couple seconds at a time, and when he’s excited, he pulls up a storm even in a no-pull harness. And I’m sure he won’t be one of those dogs with table manners.”

Gabe shrugged. “Gotta start somewhere. What do you say?”

“You don’t think Megan will care?” she asked before realizing he was already typing out a text.

“I doubt it. She knows you’re giving serious thought to adopting him.”