With that, he briskly entered the vehicle.

A soft chuckle escaped Rosalynn.

She wanted to tease him more, but a mixture of warmth and gratitude filled her. His wariness of dogs, stemming from a past psychological ordeal when he saved her, added a layer of tenderness.

As they settled into the car, Rosalynn looked at Brian, whispering, "Honey, thanks for what you did back then."

Brian, starting the car, turned to her with an air of arrogance.

“There's no need to thank me verbally.”

Amused, Rosalynn playfully approached him, cradling the dog. "Then how should I express my thanks?"

Brian stiffened noticeably, gritting his teeth. “Honey, unless you want a traffic accident, put her in the back seat!"

Rosalynn stroked the dog's head and declared, "Sure, I'll move to the back with her."

With a straight face, Brian clarified, "I meant the dog, not you."

“But she's so pitiful. She was mistreated by her former owner,"

Rosalynn argued.

The dog, seemingly understanding her plea, whimpered and Licked Rosalynn's hand with gratitude.

Brian's brows knitted in disapproval.

Was this dog trying to win her over?

The dog irked him, no matter how he looked at it.

“Sit tight!"

Brian commanded, taking a deep breath and hitting the gas with a stern expression.

Rosalynn couldn't contain her laughter. Petting the dog, she suggested, "Honey, let's give our furry little thing a name. Any ideas on what we should call him?"

Brian glanced at the dog, nestled in his wife's arms, and grumbled irritably, "Poodle."