“What do you want to talkabout?”
“Literallyanythingelse.”
Because talking about that moment in my bedroom is giving me hotflashes.
“You think up a name for this guy yet?” Luca strokes the dog. “Or whether you’re going tokeephim?”
I blow out a relieved breath at the topic change. “I have no idea. I guess I should probably stop calling himmongrelandmonsterandhellbeast,huh?”
“Probably.”
I pivot to face the puppy and stare at his slack-jawed muzzle. His doggie snores are leaving a dark puddle of drool on Luca’sjeans.
“Maybe I should call him Peanut. OrPipsqueak.”
“Ironically?”
My brows lift. “What’s ironic about that? He’s a dachshund, right? He’ll only be what, like, ten pounds, fullygrown?”
Luca stares at me with an indecipherableexpression.
“What?” I ask, palms starting to get clammy. “Why are you looking at melikethat?”
“Not to be the bearer of bad news, but this little guy isn’t a dachshund.” He smirks. “He’s asetter.”
“Awhat?”
“Asetter.”
“Like, atrendsetter? You are talking to a girl with zero canine knowledge. But sure, by all means, use pithy insider jargon I will not understand. That’s super helpful.” I rollmyeyes.
He laughs. “This is an Irish Setter — smart, high energy, bred as a hunting dog.” His voice gets lower. “They usually top out around seventypounds.”
“SEVENTY POUNDS?!” I scream so loud the kids look over at us from the jungle gym, where they’re taking turns on theslide.
“Sometimesmore.”
“MORE?!”
“Delilah.” Luca smiles, head shaking. “Did you not notice how big his paws are?” He holds up one padded foot for me to examine. “They’re like hockey pucks. He’s gonna be big, I canalreadytell.”
“Shit!” I curse. “It was bad enough when I thought I had a purse-sized pooch to haul around with me. Now, I’m totallyscrewed.”
“No you’re not. I’ll help you with him.” Luca’s eyes get warm again. “I’m goodwithdogs.”
“That’s…” I swallow. “As nice as it is of you to offer, I really can’t take you up on it. You’ve done so much for me already, and I know you’re in the middle of training for your big fight next week. I’ve been enough of adistractionand—”
Speaking of distractions, Luca is no longer paying attention to my attempts to brush him off. He’s completely preoccupied by something in the street. I follow his gaze and see he’s watching a nondescript tan sedan drive slowly past the park with hawklikefocus.
“Luca?”
“Shh.”
“No, I willnotshh—”
“Delilah.” His voice is sharper than his eyes. He’s not messingaround.
I fallsilent.