“My dog sitter isn’t available tomorrow—she doesn’t work weekends—and Max wouldn’t enjoy the four-hour drive back and forth. Could you keep him for the day?” And before I can answer, he adds, “He’s a good dog, I promise, and you’d only need to walk him twice and feed him.”

“Yeah, no problem. Is Max a big dog?”

“No, a Jack Russell, hardly a heavyweight.”

“And is he okay with cats?”

Lucas grimaces. “Eeeh, I’m not sure. But if you can’t keep him, I can always ask Garrett.”

“No,” I say. “It’s fine. I’ll be happy to take Max.”

“Great.”

We both stand up, and I walk him to the door.

Lucas leans against the frame in an unfairly sexy pose, saying, “See you tomorrow.”

I’m drawn in by some magnetic force and lean forward. But before I do something stupid, like press against him and kiss those sinfully full lips, I back off, coughing out, “Tomorrow.”

Then I shut the door in his face.

Out of sight, out of mind.

***

The next morning, the doorbell rings at eight on the dot. Tegan has been up since the crack of dawn and promptly rushes to the front door to answer. She’s greeted by a bout of barking, and I hear cooing sounds as she lavishes attention on Lucas’ dog. They seem to get along.

Priscilla is not on the same page; she scurries down the hall and regards me accusingly.

“Don’t worry, Prissy, it’s only for today.”

The cat glares at me, still indignant, and goes to hide in Tegan’s room.

As I shuffle down the hall, I’m not nearly as presentable as I would’ve liked to be, but I overslept. So, I have no other choice than to go meet Lucas wearing an oversized sweater, leggings, and my hair down in a rat’s nest mess. I check my reflection in the hall mirror and try to pull my hair up in a messy bun. But that looks even worse, so I let it back down, quickly combing my fingers through the tangled locks.

Oh, whatever. I turn the corner and briefly take in my daughter crouched on the floor patting a tiny dog, before I’m shocked by the sight of Lucas wearing dark-blue jeans and a gray V-neck. His eyes widen in return upon spotting me, and it kills me I’ve no idea what he’s thinking.

“Wow,” I say, “you do own casual clothes. I thought you were Neil Patrick Harris’ secret twin and went to bed in pajama suits.”

Lucas smiles, although I’m not sure he caught the How I Met Your Mother reference. “It’s good to see you out of your lawyer uniform, too.”

Excited by a new arrival, Max escapes Tegan’s arms and rushes at my feet, jumping and barking.