Page 19 of Easton

Meadow comes running then, with Pretty Girl chasing her and Casanova bringing up the end.

“Aren’t they cute, Dad?” she asks as Cass kneels and loves on Pretty Girl. Casanova isn’t sure and lingers behind, before going over to stand beside East, who lowers himself to give the dog attention. It’s incredible that East just met this dog a couple of hours ago, but Casanova knows East is safe. Knows that he’s East’s, and that the man most people don’t understand would never hurt him.

“They’re adorable. Did you thank Mr. Easton for letting you play with them?”

“He asked me not to call him that.” She turns to him. “Thank you. I had fun today.”

“They had fun with you too,” he replies. “If…if it’s okay with your dad, you can play with them anytime. It’s okay if you don’t want to, if you get a dog of your own or whatever, but—”

“I want to! Dad, can I?”

Cass ruffles her hair. “Of course. We should get going, though, and let your uncle and Easton hang out.”

Cass stands, and Meadow comes over. “Thanks for today, Uncle Archer.” She hugs me.

“Love you, kid.”

“I love you too.” She heads over to Easton next. “Thanks again!” And then her arms wrap around him, the same way they have done to me too many times to count.

Easton tenses, and for a moment, my heart stops. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable, but at the same time, I worry about him saying something that would accidentally hurt Meadow.

But then he wraps an arm around her too, awkwardly pats her back. His voice is thick when he says, “I had fun too.”

She pulls back, huge smile on her face, not realizing how special that moment was.

“Bye, Pretty Girl. Bye, Casanova.”

Cass watches me, and I can see the questions in his gaze, before he wraps his arm around Meadow, and the two of them walk away.

“I should go.” Easton begins hooking the dogs to their leashes.

An unfamiliar panic wells up inside me. It makes no sense. There’s no reason to feel panicky, but I’m not ready for this day to end. I don’t want East to be alone, and somehow, I know that it’s not good for him to be alone tonight, especially—it’s in the way his eyes keep darting around, in the way his voice was slightly rushed when he said he had to leave. “Come home with me. We can have a late dinner.”

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy talking to you,” I reply as he begins walking toward the gate, his dogs on the leash.

He offers a huff in response.

“What? I do. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

“East,” I say, and he stops walking. I’m behind him, his back to me.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” he finally says.

“Being your friend.”

He sighs, then turns around. “I don’t want to leave Casanova. It’s his first night with me, and I have work tomorrow.”

“Bring the dogs with you. I don’t care if they come to my house.”

He looks down, seconds pass, a minute, his eyes close, and I can’t help wondering what’s going on inside his head.

Finally, he sighs and looks at me. “Can you even cook?”

I chuckle. “I’m not a chef or anything, but I do all right.”