Kurt’s lips turned up while his gaze remained locked on mine. “What were you and Waldo up to this afternoon?”
I flicked my wrist and sniffed the flowery perfume sample on one of the pages of my magazine. “He needed some new ties, so we shopped. I think he may need an intervention. Four bags. How in the world can you buy that many ties?”
“Well, he needs the matching handkerchief, too.”
We laughed. It felt good to be on even ground with Kurt again. “How’d wardrobe fitting go?”
“Perfect. I love the additions to my jacket.”
Oh, so this was how we were going to play it. Fine by me. At some point, I’d try to get some rhinestones added to his leather pants to match his jacket.
“Good. I knew you would.”
A whimper came from the back.
“What was that?” Kurt asked, turning toward the hallway.
I plugged my nose. “I’ve had some sinus issues going on.”
I gave a screechy yawn. “Man, these sinuses make me sound so nasally. I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom.”
Another long, whiny whimper.
Scrambling off the couch, I hurried to the door. I turned and Kurt was right there. “Is that a dog I hear?”
“No.” I sounded guilty as sin. Shit.
“Last time I checked, dogs barked,” Kurt said.
“My sinuses are so crazy. It sounds like a bark.” I held my nostrils together.
Kurt raised his eyebrows at me. Okay, even I knew that was a terrible lie.
I held up my hands. “Listen. It was an impulse buy, but George won’t be any trouble. And I know snap decisions normally bite people in the ass, but this one won’t. He’s perfect. The perfect addition to our adventure.”
“Yeah, a small, cute dog who won’t get any bigger than he is now. I bought him at the park. The lady was really nice. She’s from France and didn’t speak English fluently. Then, against Waldo’s will, I made him stop at the pet store for supplies. I stole his phone and threatened his life if he told you. Frank was clueless, too. He was in the restroom and found me innocently reading my magazine.”
“Shit, you have them on your side already?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Sawyer, we can’t have a dog.”
It was obvious Kurt was trying not to smile. I hurried into my room, and Kurt’s eyes bulged. “What is all this shit? It looks like you bought the entire pet department.”
This room was a mess. I was going to get hives thinking about it. “It’s George’s stuff. I’ll get it organized. I was in a bit of a rush to get it on the bus in Operation Don’t Let Kurt Know.”
I rushed over to the crate and opened it. “Hey, sweet George. Meet your roommate. He’s a bit messy and swears like a sailor, but he’s nice enough.”
George, his tail wagging, walked right up to Kurt and sat down. “See how sweet he is.”
“Sawyer, we can’t—” Kurt’s eyes softened when they landed on the fluffy white ball.
Bingo. There was my open door. “Please. Please. Please. I’ve always wanted a dog. Pleeeaaaaaase.” I pouted my lips a little and put my hands together. “He’s official and everything. I have papers.”
George reached up on Kurt’s leg and whimpered to be picked up. Without thinking, Kurt lifted him up and held him. “Where are the papers?”
I was so close to having him convinced. Kurt absentmindedly petted George’s head as I retrieved the papers. After finding the envelope in my purse, I handed them to him. “I just have to fill them in and mail them. Isn’t he so soft and cuddly?”
Scanning the documents, Kurt snorted. His eyes met mine—they were full of laughter. What was funny? “Have you read these yet?” he asked.
“No, there hasn’t been much time. It was a race against the clock so you wouldn’t give him the boot and orphan my first dog ever.”
Kurt mashed his lips together before he proceeded. “What kind of dog did you think you got?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Why are you being so cryptic? I’ve told you. George is a lap poodle. I’m going to get him a little bag and everything. He’ll be so handsome as we traipse around America together. I’m thinking he needs a rhinestone jacket to match yours.”
In that moment, Kurt burst out laughing. “You got a labradoodle.”
“A what? The woman said lap poodle.”
“Hell, Sawyer. This is the best thing that’s happened. Good ol’ George is going to be over seventy pounds and huge.”
I gasped. “What? That’s more than half my weight. He won’t be a lap poodle? What about my cute little bag? I won’t be able to carry a seventy-pound dog.”
At this point, Kurt was nearly bent over laughing. George wiggled and whined, and Kurt set him down. “No, he won’t.” Kurt staggered to my bed. “Oh shit. This is the funniest thing ever. You wanted a cute little ‘lap poodle’ and you have a giant-ass labradoodle.”
I tossed a squeaky toy at him. “This is not funny. Not funny at all.”