The scarf covering Maggie’s eyes twitches as she wriggles her nose. I can’t help but smile to myself as she fidgets in the seat beside me while we zip along the motorway. We’ve had plenty of roadtrips in the past year, since that first fateful one. Most a damn sight less bloody. 

‘So…’ Maggie says, her fingers grazing the hem of her bird-patterned dress. ‘What’s the big surprise?’

It’s at least the tenth time she’s asked during the twenty minutes we’ve been in the car.

‘You’re so impatient.’ She really is. At Christmas, she’d smushed her presents half to death before we reached Christmas Day. The wrapping paper looked like it had been in a fight with the elves.

‘I’m excited,’ she says, smiling below the makeshift blindfold. ‘I don’t know if you’re going to take me to the Ritz for afternoon tea, or screw me in a carpark with strangers watching.’

I choke on a cough. ‘Not the latter. Is that something you want?’

Indulging each other’s fantasies is always high on our list of hobbies, but the idea of sharing her, even just by letting others watch, has me gripping the steering wheel and seeing red.

‘I can just imagine the way you’re frowning right now.’ Maggie lets out a laugh. ‘No. I had enough of that with the policeman.’

‘Me too.’

‘I’m all yours, babe. Don’t go getting all flustered. Unless we’re heading for a dirty weekend, in which case I might wind you up some more so you’ll pin me to th—’

‘We might be in for a dirty weekend, but not like that.’

Hitting the indicator, I head for the slip road and turn off.

‘Not like that…’ she murmured to herself. ‘Are we nearly there?’

‘Yup. A few minutes to go.’

We sit in silence for a few minutes as I follow the muted satnav, turning down twisty back roads until the building finally comes into view.

The car slows, wheels crunching on the gravelled car park.

I unbuckle and lean across to release her seatbelt. 

‘Is this where we snog?’ Maggie says with a grin, snatching my face and pulling me to her lips. I indulge her for a moment, always willing to lose myself in her. Kissing her in the blindfold has me raising a flag that I don’t have time to fly, so I break away and run a thumb over her lower lip. 

‘Careful, Princess. You’ll have me abandoning my plan and pulling you into the back seat.’

‘I won’t regret a thing.’

Getting out, I move to her side of the car and help her out, steadying her with a hand on her waist. Turning her to face me, I take her hands. ‘I thought it was about time you got what you’ve been wishing for, for a long time.’

Her mouth curves, always with her head in the gutter. ‘You’re going to finally do me in the butt?’

Christ on a cracker. This woman. I shake my head before tilting it, considering. 

‘Is that something you want?’

Her cheeks flush beneath the blindfold. ‘Well, yeah. Don’t you?’

Anal has never been high on my list of desires, but for Maggie? Fuck I’m feral for her. For doing anything that makes her moan and beg. God damn, I’ll let her do me in the ass if only it’ll make her smile.

‘I want all of you.’ I pull her in close, tipping her chin up. ‘And if you want me to fill your sweet ass, I’ll gladly slide deep.’

She quakes against me. Down, boy, I tell my unruly crotch. 

I slip Maggie’s blindfold off, smiling as she blinks in the daylight. 

She sees the sign.

‘Mrs Murphy’s Home for Dogs.’

Her mouth opens, eyes widening in surprise, before she turns back to me with an excited hop. 

‘A dog shelter?’

I adore the way her eyes gleam when she’s happy. The way excitement seems to infect her from the top down until she’s practically humming with pleasure.

‘Yes.’ I squeeze her fingers. ‘It’s time we finally get the dog you’ve always wanted.’

‘You’re not kidding?’

‘Never. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted, Princess. You deserve it. Happy anniversary.’

For a second, she doesn’t speak. Just presses her forehead to my chest and breathes me in. 

‘I don’t deserve you.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘I love you.’

‘I know.’

A bubbly older woman with kind eyes shows us around the facility, explains the adoption process, and takes our details to ensure we are suitable to adopt a furry friend. The apartment is an initial sticking point, but Maggie manages to charm the lady in the end. 

She’s hard not to love, to be fair. 

Eventually, we make it into the kennels, long rooms with glass doors, which open out to the outdoors. Everything is clean and tidy, and the dogs are looking well cared for. Not that I’d expected any less, I’d researched the adoption centre for weeks.

Maggie is on the floor cooing at a squat little terrier within seconds. The woman opens the door to let the little guy greet us. He launches himself at Maggie in a flurry of wet kisses before dashing over and taking a leak on my boot.

I freeze.

The woman gasps. ‘Oh! I’m so sorry—’

Maggie can’t help but laugh.

I look down at my shoe. ‘I’ve been marked.’

Maggie grins. ‘Just a little excitement wee, huh? Happens to the best of us.’

I raise my brow, and Maggie flushes deeply when she realises what she said.’

After a thorough cleanup with antibacterial wipes, we continue to greet a variety of other dogs in all shapes and sizes. 

I feel like I’ve walked into a Hairy Maclary book.

Bottomley pots all covered in spots, I say to myself while passing a dalmation cross.

We move deeper into the building, away from the puppies and retrievers, to the less desirable dogs. Not that I think any dog is less desirable, but they aren’t the ones you’d put on a billboard.

Maggie slows down, excitement giving way to softer touches and more questions for the employee.

‘Who’s been here the longest?’ Maggie asks.

There’s a pause.

‘Gaston.’

‘Named after the ladybird or the asshole?’ I ask.

The woman shrugs. ‘We didn’t name him. His owner died when he was still young, and he’s never been anyone’s number one.’

We’re led to the last kennel. 

And inside is… a sorrowful creature.

Scraggly, with tufted hair sticking out at all angles. Bug eyes. A tongue that lolls to one side. Something chihuahua-adjacent, I’d guess. He looks like he’s been made with spare parts. A franken-woof.

A tiny sound comes from Maggie’s throat.

‘Oh, what a sweetheart…’

The woman lowers her voice. ‘He’s very nervous. He doesn’t usually pay visitors much mind.’

Maggie nods. ‘Can I try?’

The woman shrugs and opens the door, letting Maggie into the kennel. She sits quietly on the floor, cross-legged, with her back to the wall. 

And she waits.

Five minutes pass. 

Ten. 

Twenty.

I watch the clock. And Maggie. And the dog.

She doesn’t click her tongue or reach out. She just waits. The worker comes and goes, every time giving Maggie a gentle smile.

At forty-five minutes, a miracle occurs: Gaston inches forward. He approaches her like she might turn into a monster at any moment. By the hour mark, the furry little scruff climbs into her lap and curls into the circle of her crossed legs. Still trembling.

Maggie doesn’t move. Just lets him relax into her warmth. Eventually, one hand comes up slowly, resting against Gaston’s back like a promise.

The woman wipes her eyes. So do I.

‘Oh,’ she whispers. ‘He loves you.’

I swallow the lump in my throat when Maggie looks up at me with pure delight in her eyes. 

‘He trusts me.’

I’m not one bit surprised. My rose grew up amongst thorns. Not that I don’t like Maggie’s family, I do, but it’s despite their actions, not because of them. Wheras Maggie, I love every ounce of her. 

I look at the way her face softens, at the reverence in her touch. And fall in love all over again. 

I clear my throat. 

‘Are you sure,’ I ask quietly, ‘this is the one?’

She looks up at me, Gaston tucked against her like he’s always belonged there.

Her smile is luminous.

‘Not the one… the first.’ 

The little brat.