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)
“Hello, Shelby,” I say, watching as he does a strange dance.
He sniffs close, then backs up – his little legs moving quickly – and then gets closer again, nose pressed to the floor. His tail is alert and rigid, and his ears are the same. He’s wondering if I’m going to hurt him.
“What happened to his ear?” I ask.
“It’s genetic,” Dominic replies, his deep voice making me want to look up longingly into his eyes. “The breeding operation was trying to make a tiny Corgi. Hence his short legs. The ear – the vet told me – is just a nasty accident…a byproduct of the breeding. There was a lot of inbreeding, so I’m sure that had a lot to do with it.”
“It’s okay, Shelby,” I whisper, slowly moving my hand toward him.
I expect Dominic to say something to move the conversation along, but he just keeps watching.
I can feel his gaze, and part of me wonders if this is a test.
If I can win over this dog, I win Dominic’s heart.
That’s crazy, of course. I know it’s not true, but it feels right.
Shelby finally moves over to my hand, sniffing it cautiously, but his body’s still tense as though he’s ready to flee any second.
I don’t try to pet him. I simply stay like this, letting him sniff and then finally lick the back of my hand.
“Good boy,” I whisper as he creeps even closer. “Oh, that’s a good boy, Shelby.”
His tail wags a tiny bit, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
For a wonderful second, I’m able to forget about the closeness of Dominic, his scent, or the fact he had no clue who I was. The fact he’d never want me the same way I want him.
Then Shelby turns and trots away toward the door.
“I think that’s a sign,” Dominic says, chuckling softly.
“Yeah,” I murmur, staring as Dominic grabs his bag, takes a lead from it, and then hooks it to Shelby’s collar.
I came down for a drink, but now I can’t stop myself from walking over to the front window and watching Dominic and the dog walk around the yard, the world a steel color with the sun just about to rise.
He’s a huge man, his shoulders wide, his muscles thick. He’s still wearing his polo shirt from the shelter, an off-green color, calling to mind his military service.
He’s so patient with Shelby, showing no signs of irritation as the Corgi sniffs all over the garden, looking for the best spot.
It makes me think of what an amazing father he’d make.
Then I chuckle under my breath.
He is already an amazing father… to my best friend. Just one of the reasons he’d never want me.
When he returns, I realize I’ve got no excuse, no reason to explain why I was watching him. But luckily, he doesn’t ask. He simply takes off Shelby’s leash and looks over at me.
His eyes are hard to read. They’re intense, just like I remember. They’re the dreamy eyes I obsessed about countless times while crushing on him. But I’m almost certain there’s something else there too.
Is he annoyed? Angry? Forcing himself to be nice?
Or is it passion?
“Is Elizabeth still asleep?” he asks.
“I think so,” I murmur, glancing at the clock. “It’s early.”
Dominic smirks a quick flash. “Six thirty am isn’t early, Danni.”
When he says my name, it’s like a gift. It’s like I’ve been waiting for him to see me, really see me, ever since I turned eighteen. And here’s my chance.
Except he’s not seeing me in the way I want, and I need to be okay with that.
“It is for normal people,” I say, trying for a joking tone.
He grins briefly. “I’d never claim to be one of those. Coffee?”
“Sure,” I reply, even if I planned on getting juice and then going back to bed for an hour.
We walk into the kitchen, open plan, all sleek surfaces. Dominic pours some water for Shelby, places the bowl on the floor, and then starts on the coffee.
“I can do that if you want,” I say.
He looks at me. “Sure, Danni. Thank you.”
He sits at the bar, looking massive on the stool with Shelby in his lap. Shelby curls up, his eyes opening and closing.
“He looks so peaceful there,” I say as I go about the familiar routine of making coffee in this kitchen.
I remember feeling so mischievous the first time Lizzy and I made coffee in here since we weren’t supposed to be drinking caffeine. But as we got older, the rules became lax on both sides.
“I never normally bring them home,” Dominic says, looking down at Shelby with something like warmth in his eyes. “But Shelby, here, is a special case.”
“Is he getting separation anxiety?”
Dominic looks up, and the warmth – or near warmth – is still there. I know it’s leftover from when he looked at Shelby, but it still means something to me. Perhaps that makes me pathetic.