"Oh, the poor little dear. You don't worry about a thing, Sugie Sug. You're going to fit in just fine around here." In her obvious excitement, the puppy let out a small squeak and then lowered her head as if expecting dire consequences as a result of the small, escaped noise. She looked at us, her eyes raised dismally, her head still lowered.

"Whoa, whoa, around here?" I asked. "No. The last thing I need is an animal running around getting in my way. I don't have the time for a pet."

Kira frowned, and then thrust the dog at me, forcing me to take it from her. "I rescued Sugie Sug for you. She's yours. Consider her, um, my wedding gift. And a thank you for your kindness this weekend." She grinned. I was momentarily stunned, staring down at the warm weight in my arms, those large, dark eyes trained on me with a mix between fear and hope. I felt a strange stirring in the region of my heart. Oh, Jesus. Kira had gone and gotten me a puppy after the story I'd told her about my father. Irritating little witch. Sweet, compassionate, irritating little witch. I sighed.

It had been a kind thought, and I was glad she wasn't upset about how we'd left off on the patio after our date. Still . . . "Kira, I can't have a dog named Sugie Sug. I don't even know what that means. But it sounds incredibly girly."

"Oh," she put one finger up on her lips, "well, that's what I named her and she seems to be attached to it. Her full name is Sugar Pie Honey Bunches, Sugie for short." She was holding back a barely suppressed smile. This amused the little witch.

I considered the animal again. She was wretchedly ugly. Pitifully unattractive. Damaged. Despite her deformity and her unacceptable name, I couldn’t bring myself to send her away now that she was in my arms, looking at me with such raw hope. I did have a large property. She could run around—I'd probably never even see her. Although at the very least, she'd need to be trained not to eat the grapes, as they could be dangerous to dogs. I set her on the ground. She stood stock still, staring at me. "She's still a puppy, and you just got her today. She can learn a new name." I backed up. "Come here, Scout." She tilted that ugly head, sitting down squarely on her butt.

Kira moved back, too. "Come here, Sugie Sug," she called. The dog scampered over to her immediately, its overly large paws clicking on the floor. Kira scooped her up and started babbling to her in that same highly irritating baby voice.

"Come here, Sugie Sug," I called experimentally. Kira put her down on the ground and the puppy scampered over to me, squeaking again and then lowering her head in that scared, bashful way. I scooped her up and looked her in her eyes. "First off, you're allowed to talk around here." She regarded me with those expressive eyes as if she understood what I was saying. She licked my cheek tentatively. I looked up at Kira and Charlotte who were both grinning broadly. "Fine, she can stay," I said, clenching my jaw and turning around with my new puppy and heading for the door. My new puppy named Sugie Sug. What the hell was happening to my life? "I'm going to show her the house and get her used to a new name," I called as I left the kitchen.

Happy feminine laughter followed me up the stairs, a sound I suddenly realized I'd never heard so often in this house . . . before Kira had come along.

**********

The next morning, bright and early, Kira and I headed downtown to pick up the check that had been the catalyst and reason for this whole marriage. Mr. Hartmann handed it over and wished us happiness and good luck and, not ten minutes after we'd entered the building, we were back out on the street, staring at each other as if in shock. I grinned at Kira and said, "Let's go open a bank account." She smiled back and nodded. Heading to a different bank down the street, we walked past the bank where Kira had first seen me. Kira might have good memories of that particular bank, but I couldn't stomach opening an account at the place that had rejected my loan request—whether their rejection had been justified or not. Still, I thought about the last time I'd been there, how hopeless and low I'd felt. I grabbed Kira's hand and gave it a squeeze. She grinned over at me, her dimple popping out. A lock of her fiery hair fell in front of one eye, and I couldn't help myself. I stopped and walked her backward toward a building and pressed her against the wall, giving her a quick, hard kiss, and then grinning at her surprised expression.

"Get a room," someone walking by mumbled. Kira looked briefly shocked, and I gave her my best devilish grin, raising my eyebrows.

"No," she said resolutely, slipping out from under me, but she glanced back, a teasing smile on her face. My heart flipped in some unfamiliar way. I laughed, walking quickly to catch up.

An hour later, we had separate accounts, each containing three hundred fifty thousand dollars. As we drove back to the vineyard, something inside me suddenly felt ashamed, as if I was stealing money from her. As if I had little right to what I'd just taken. "I'm going to pay you back. You know that, right?" I asked, looking over at Kira.

She nodded, studying my face. "If you want," she said.

"I do."

Kira was quiet for a minute and then her voice came out softly. "I need to go see my father today."

I looked at her, her expression a mixture between sadness and something that looked like dejection. It took me aback—Kira's eyes were normally so filled with vibrancy. It was as if the idea of seeing her father sucked the radiance right from her body. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. I closed it again and, after a minute, mumbled simply, "Okay."