“You know…I don’t think they ever said.”
“Tully…do you think—is that—is this one of her puppies?”
We stare at the little fluffy thing.
“Nah, this dog is all fluffy, and that one’s got dreadlocks. That couldn’t be you, right?” he says in a high voice that’s hilarious coming from a six-foot-three hockey player.
We get in the car.
“What should we name her?” he asks. “She looks like a Fluffernutter.”
“No, she doesnot.”
“Cupcake? Fifi?”
“I was thinking of something more like…Penelope or Josephine.”
“So fancy,” he says, wrinkling his nose up slightly.
“Well, Fluffernutter is the other extreme.”
“Are we having our first fight?” he asks, glancing over and grinning. “Can we have makeup sex when we get home?”
“I wonder what she’ll do while we’re having sex!”
“Don’t they just lie down and watch?”
I make a face. “I’d hate to defile her.”
“Well, she’s gonna be defiled because we are not protecting her sweet puppy eyes at the expense of orgasms.”
I giggle. “Cover your ears, buttercup,” I say, kissing her nose.
“Buttercup!” he says. “That’s perfect. I love it.”
“I was just…giving her a little sweet nickname, not naming her that!”
“I can’t unhear it,” he says with a smirk and a shrug.
“Fine.” I grin down at her. “She does look like a Buttercup,” I admit.
When we get home, we laugh at everything she does. She goes potty in our little yard, she stumbles over her paws as she runs, she runs around in circles and then wants to be held, she falls asleep while she’s sitting up—everything she does is adorable.
“Maybe now would be a good time to make up for our name argument,” he whispers.
Buttercup’s eyes pop open, and I wince.
“Better give her some time to settle in first,” I say.
He takes her from me and places her on a big pillow we’ve set out for her on our floor.
“I think it’s best that we show her how it’s gonna be right away,” he says, kissing my hand.
I laugh and give him a playful shove. He comes rightback, kissing his way down my body. I’m moaning his name within minutes, and when he gives me a gentle shove, I fall back on the bed. Something catches my eye, and I turn to see Buttercup staring at us with rapt attention.
“Tully,” I whisper.
He pauses in taking his pants off. “What?” he whispers back.