It had been a magical night. To be honest, returning to New York had been hard, but with Ben by my side, I was fine. We’d enjoyed the last year—being married, working hard, and exploring dive restaurants around Brooklyn. It was a New York I didn’t know growing up, and it was all ours.
I was still waiting for Ben to appear, so I opened my eyes and focused again on the hummus-filled photos in front of me, trying to funnel my creative thoughts. They would be a fun client to work with when I got my mojo centered.
Yes, the big dogs had come calling a few times too. Just the week before, I’d met with the Tao group, but I didn’t have the time to dedicate to a client of their status. If I did, I’d have to drop all my small-business clients and be prepared to travel all the time. Neither would work with our upcoming move back to Vermont, spending time with Branson on his college breaks, or anything else we planned.
A high-profile marketing career wasn’t what I wanted from life anymore. Brooklyn had been fun, but two years was long enough. I was looking forward to celebrating the holidays back in Vermont and not having to rush back to the city.
“Are they closed?” Ben called again.
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut and wondering what he was up to, thinking he’d brought champagne or something.
“Don’t say a thing. Shhh,” I heard him say from across the room.
Our brownstone wasn’t that big—it was mostly an open floor plan on the first floor and two small bedrooms and a bathroom on the second. One good thing about moving back to the Mad River house was it had space . . . and lots of it.
“I thought we were celebrating later?” I asked with my eyes sealed shut. I knew better than to ruin one of Ben’s surprises.
“We are. I’m officially done at the office here,” he whispered.
My nerves tingled as I sensed him moving closer.
“Put your hands in your lap,” he said. “Palms up.”
“Ben, seriously, don’t play a prank with my laptop out.”
When we first moved to Brooklyn, he’d constantly joke that my parents were at the front door. I fell for it every time, running to look out the window and simultaneously finger-combing my hair. Then there was the time he fed me calf’s liver and onions after telling me to close my eyes, assuring me it was Chinese takeout. Yuck, I almost threw up in my mouth at the memory of it.
I sensed Ben very close to me. He still smelled like Vermont, what I thought of as a mixture of pinecones and rushing water. Lost in Ben’s scent, I nearly jolted when I felt something soft like mink in my hand.
“Open up.”
Sitting in the palm of my hand was the tiniest puppy I’d ever seen. Midnight black and white and tan, and probably only a couple of pounds. Maybe four. Or three.
“Ben, what did you do?” I whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping puppy. Truthfully, I was in a bit of shock myself.
“We talked about getting a puppy in Vermont, and well, I decided to go ahead and get us one.”
“He’s so sweet, but . . .” I lifted the pup and checked to be sure I’d gotten the gender right, and when he barely opened his eyes, I giggled. “He looks drunk.”
“A while back, I put us on a waiting list. Someone else backed out of taking home this little guy,” Ben said, smiling down at the puppy, “so now he’s ours. He traveled a long way to get here today. I couldn’t wait to surprise you, but you don’t seem so happy. I thought we talked about it,” he said, his voice wavering slightly.
“No, we did talk about it. And he’s absolutely precious. It’s just, I took on this new client . . .”
“Well, let me take him and you can finish up. You also have to think of a name. The breeder called him Red Beagle, but I’m sure you can come up with something more creative.”
“I don’t have to finish anything now. I was going to wait until tonight to tell you—”
The tiny beagle rolled over in my hands, revealing his pink belly and those big brown eyes staring at me, waiting for me to love. Of course I melted.
“He looks like a toy,” I said, smiling. “He’s pretty cute. Such a little peanut.”
Ben knelt on the floor at my feet and rubbed the puppy’s belly while staring at me.
My cheeks heated. “That’s a cute name, right? Peanut? Isn’t Snoopy a beagle?”
Ben nodded. “That’s it then. Mr. Peanut.”
Despite being a bit overwhelmed, I blurted, “I’m in love already.” It couldn’t be helped.
“You said you were going to tell me something tonight. Is everything okay?” Ben asked, interrupting my moment of happiness.
Pulling Peanut up to my face, I inhaled his sweet puppy breath before cuddling him back on my lap. I’d had a show-quality miniature poodle growing up. Penelope was her name. Peanut was better already because he was shedding all over my lap. He wasn’t meant to be looked at and admired but not played with. “This is a Vermont type of dog, right? I don’t want to have some froufrou pup.”
“Ha, yes, he’s not a froufrou pup. Short hair, musky, a little sneaky and adventurous is what the breeder told me.”
“How did he get here?” I asked.
“Actually, he’s from North Carolina. He flew here today and landed at JFK a few hours ago. I met him at baggage claim and took him to the vet, and here we are.”
“You gave this a lot of thought.”
Leaning in to kiss me, Ben murmured, “First, I asked you to move back to New York with me, and you did, and now I’m dragging you back to Vermont. I wanted to make it special, and like you were taking a new friend with you.” He knelt in front of me, eye level with the puppy but gazing up
