Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
It makes me think of her beaming at our children, sitting beside them as our son or daughter plays an instrument on stage or competes in a sporting event.
And I’ll look over to see her bright expression, the love emanating.
“Hi,” Danni says. “Are you….”
“Candace. And you are?”
“Danni, it’s nice to meet you.”
They shake hands, some of the dogs still following Danni, but most have returned to their play or rest.
“I hope I didn’t do anything wrong,” she gestures at the dogs. “I know you’re not supposed to have favorites or make the other dogs jealous.”
“There’s an easy way to get around that.” Candace winks. “Be crazy about every single one. Do you think you can manage that?”
Danni stands up a little straighter, causing more pride to whelm in me. I’m aware it’s not my place to feel this for her.
As far as everybody else is concerned, she is a family friend, nothing more.
But I’m standing here watching my future wife kick ass on her first day at her dream job. It’s difficult not to want to hold her, to tell her she’s doing a fantastic job, to tell her it’s moments like these that are making me fall in love with her.
I take a step back as if I’ve spoken the words aloud.
“Good luck today,” I say, struggling to force the words out, my throat feeling tight. “Candace is fantastic at what she does. You’re in great hands.”
“Careful,” Candace jokes. “That sounds like a compliment.”
“Where are you going?” Danni asks, then she looks at the ground like she regrets saying it.
Is this the usual nerves a person feels around their boss?
Or is she scared of seeming too eager, the way a woman would while dating?
“I have to check on the other shelters,” I tell her. “Plus, I need to arrange some home visits for the Corgis.”
“More interest?” Candace says.
I nod. “Their story has moved people.”
Walking away, I realize I probably seem rude. I don’t say goodbye.
I can’t bring myself to stand there a second longer, pretending I don’t want to grab Danni, pull her close, and kiss her with all the passion flaring in me.
Press my hips forward, let her feel how solid she makes my manhood, make her feel how insane with lust she turns me.
I go into my office, lock the door, drop into my chair and clench my fists on the desk. Elizabeth stares at me from a photo on the wall. It was taken at her high school graduation, so happy it looks like she could pop.
It’s a smile I could shatter any second.
I could go to her college class right now, interrupt the nursing talk, tell her I need to speak.
I’ve fallen for your best friend. I need her. I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t want to make it stop.
I imagine her face crumbling into tears, her lips trembling, the years shedding from her as she becomes a little girl again. I know it’s my duty to protect Danni, support her, always be there for her, and keep her mine.
But does that mean I can sacrifice my duty to my daughter? Does that mean I can push her feelings aside?
No.
That settles it, then.
I have to be strong.
No more looking, no more fantasizing, no more hoping she feels the same.
Leaning back, I unclench my fists, letting out a long sigh, knowing I’ve chosen an impossible task.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Danni
“You’re doing great,” Candace tells me as she combs a dog of her own.
Hers is a big Poodle who sits obediently next to her chair. The dog – Ruby – has her tongue hanging out, seemingly enjoying the groom.
I’ve got a Chihuahua cross Miniature Poodle in my lap, a little bundle of energy called Gizmo, who whines every time I snag a matted section.
“I’m scared I’m going to hurt him,” I mutter.
“That means you’re less likely to,” Candace tells me. “Just be aware of his mood. Stay calm. That’s the most important bit. With everything we do. Dogs can smell your mood. Guess how much of a human’s brain is dedicated to scent?”
I shake my head, gently tickling Gizmo under the chin as I continue to brush him. That seems to settle him down a little.
“Five percent,” she says. “A dog’s brain is thirty-five percent, all dedicated to their sense of smell. Plus, their noses have little slits in the side, letting them scent almost continuously. If you smell scared, they’ll wonder why and they’ll get scared too.”
“I got it,” I say, nodding, trying to make my mind as calm as possible.
I wonder if the mood thing extends to distraction. If it means thinking about Dominic and how odd he behaved when he left, then I’m going to make Gizmo anxious.
I watched him walk across the yard, his back seeming even broader, tougher than usual, as if the shelter polo was going to tear and reveal his heaving muscles.