“I’m not . . .” Emma glanced at Dale, flushed, and lowered her voice. “Sleeping with your cousin.”

“That’s true,” Dale said. “Simon’s home by midnight just about every night. Well, there’s been a few times when he’s snuck in at dawn, but he’s always home by breakfast.”

Emma leaned forward and thunked her head on the counter a few times.

Alison couldn’t say a word without being a hypocrite. Yes, Emma was pretending that she wasn’t in a relationship with Simon for whatever reason, but Alison was doing the same to Emma, practicing to be a better woman in order to get Ryan back.

And as if she’d conjured him up, the bell above the door jingled and there he was.

“Finally,” Emma whispered in triumph. “Your turn in the hot seat. Let’s see how you like it.”

Alison very carefully didn’t look at her. She just kept her eyes on Ryan—which didn’t help her suddenly racing pulse.

He looked . . . hot, and a little dirty, like he’d been working outside all day. He wore work clothes and held Killer against his chest; he should’ve looked ridiculous carrying a little froufrou dog with her pink bedazzled collar, but somehow he looked even more masculine.

It drove her crazy.

He drove her crazy.

“What are you doing here?” she managed.

Ryan pushed his dark sunglasses to the top of his head and held up a flyer.

20% OFF YOUR FIRST WEEK AT PAW PALS!

Alison stared at it and then whipped around to Emma.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Coupons were your idea,” her so-called partner said.

Alison took Killer, sucking in a breath because her fingers brushed against Ryan, and why oh why did he always smell so good? She wanted to press her nose to his throat and breathe him in. Instead, she kissed Killer’s adorable little face all over. Her baby allowed it for a minute, then squirmed to get down.

“Think I can leave Killer with you for a few hours?” Ryan asked. “I’ve got an appointment at a client’s office, and the last time I brought her with me, she left a . . . deposit in the client’s wife’s Louboutins. A very stinky deposit that cost me a thousand bucks.”

Killer was running around looking for Hog. She found him sleeping in the sun and immediately went nose to nose with him.

Hog woke from a dead sleep with a surprised howl and ran to hide behind Emma.

Ryan crouched low and studied Hog peeking out from Emma’s legs. “Don’t let her bully you, man.” He held out a hand.

Hog studied it, and then he slowly came out from behind Emma.

Ryan waited patiently, and finally Hog bumped his head against Ryan’s hand. Permission to touch. Ryan gave him a full-body rub—Hog’s favorite. “You’re way too sweet to be stuck with my little woman.”

“Your four-legged woman too,” Emma said.

Ryan laughed. “So you know them both well then.”

“Oh yeah.”

Then the two clowns laughed softly as if in commiseration with each other. “Hey!” Alison said. “Standing right here.” She looked at Emma. “Did you give out flyers to the whole damn town?”

“Still working on it.”

Great. Alison looked at Ryan. “Can we talk a moment?”

“Talk or fight?”

She grabbed him by the hand. “Just come on.”

He let her drag him down the hallway. Let her, because he was a big guy with lots of yummy muscles that ensured he never went anywhere he didn’t want to go.

She tried to take comfort in that.

Alison took him past the large, open yard room where Khloe was presiding over their guests with an assist from Dale and shut them in her small office. “So.”

Ryan smiled. “So.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m going to start out with the fact that I’m not exactly ready for this moment. I mean, I’ve been practicing being a good enough friend and a good enough person to make you want to be a friend back. Practicing being the key word, so I’m not quite ready for prime time yet, but—”

“You’ve been practicing . . . what now?”

She refused to blush. Absolutely refused. “You heard me.”

“I’d like to hear it again.”

Because he said this without glee or amusement of any sort, but what sounded like genuine interest, she repeated it. “I’ve been practicing being a good friend—”

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not what you said. You said you’ve been practicing being a ‘good enough’ friend. No one better have told you that you weren’t good enough for any damn thing, ever. That’s not why we broke up. Tell me you know that.”

She drew another deep breath. How was it that with so few words he could turn her upside down and inside out, not to mention melt all the bones in her entire body? Before she could respond, a sudden rustling sound came from beneath her desk. Ryan bent down and came face-to-face with Sammy the turtle, making his slow way out.

“Emma!” Alison yelled.

Emma came running. “Yeah?”

“Why is Sammy out of his crate?”

“He likes his freedom. Want me to take him?”

Sammy stopped in the sole sunny spot in the room thanks to the window and appeared to smile as his eyes slowly closed.

Alison sighed. “No. He’s fine.” She drew a deep breath when she was once again alone with Ryan.

And Sammy.

Past time. “I’m just going to say this fast,” she said. “So I don’t lose my nerve, but also before we get interrupted again.” She sucked in some air. “When we broke up, you said some things to me. Things that were hard to hear, so it took a while for it all to sink in. But you’re right. I shut people out. I shut people down. I don’t give second chances. I wear a suit of armor so thick that nothing can penetrate. Although . . .” She looked up and found his gaze on her, serious, warm, curious, which gave her the courage to go on. “You were wrong about that last one, because when we broke up, it penetrated, believe me.” It’d hurt like hell. “So I took a good long hard look in the mirror and came to some realizations. I’m . . . not a good friend, but I’m working on that.”

His eyes softened, and though he’d started with his arms crossed, they were loose at his sides now. “Go on.”