Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
He nodded, and I noted how warm his eyes were on me, how soft. “I do know.”
“And up the coast, it’s a nice drive, everything is right off the highway, but I think I took a wrong turn because it went from four lanes to two and then there was the dog.”
“So you’re the kind of guy who stops for dogs.”
“Of course,” I said, grinning at him. “Isn’t everybody?”
“No,” he said, and his voice sounded rough. “Not at all.”
We were definitely having a moment.
“Sir,” a vet tech I’d never seen before addressed me, and Gale and I both turned to look at her as she held a wiggling, whining Misha. “Your dog wants you.”
He was awfully cute to be a cock block.
SIX
My plan had been to leave the vet clinic without Misha. I was fairly certain it was the best thing for him. I knew nothing about having a pet. I’d never been allowed one—my father felt that caring for an animal promoted weakness. Later, when I’d seen him kick stray dogs to death, shoot at cats from his car for fun, I knew better than to put anything he could possibly harm in his orbit. He was a vicious man in all ways, and any pet of mine would have been in danger.
Now, faced with taking Misha with me, I realized I probably couldn’t keep a plant alive, let alone a dog. It was a terrible idea. Conchita—call me Connie—disagreed. She’d brought me the small white fluff ball because, she said, he wouldn’t stop howling since I left the back area where the cages were. I was going to argue, explain what was wrong with this idea, but the moment I tucked the dog against my chest, he instantly settled, nuzzling against me before letting out a long, contented sigh.
A chorus of awws swept through the room.
“Oh, Maks,” Gale murmured, reaching out to pet my dog. “He’s crazy about you.”
“Yeah, but I’m just renting a place, and I haven’t even been there yet. I have no idea if I’ll even be allowed to keep a pet.”
“You don’t know where you live?”
I shook my head.
“How?”
“I rented it over the phone, sight unseen,” I explained, which was true to a degree. Technically, Alvarez had rented it, but she hadn’t seen any pictures either. She’d found me a one-bedroom place in a remote location where no one would have eyes on me. That was what she’d looked for.
“I’m not positive of the address,” I told him. “But it’s something like Summerton or Summer Ridge or—”
“Summerland Drive?”
“Yeah, I think that’s it.”
“Interesting. If I’m right, I think you have the empty guest cottage behind Ada Farley’s place.”
“Why is that interesting?”
“Because I live in the Craftsman to her right. There’s a drive that goes down the middle, between our places, and I think you’re in the cottage at the end of it.”
“So we’ll be neighbors,” I concluded.
“Yeah,” he agreed, smiling at me.
The two of us, one way or another, would have been meeting today.
Strangest day ever, and because it was how my brain worked, there was a slight niggle in the back of my mind telling me that being anything but honest with this man was a bad idea. Nothing based on a lie ever turned out well anyway.
“I’m sure Ada will let you bring your dog,” Gale assured me. “She’s feisty, but I can tell you—from seeing all the barn cats she feeds and that she’s had Dr. Coleman pick up to be fixed and given their shots—that she loves animals.”
“So yes,” I addressed Connie, “Misha is coming with me.”
“Good. Now since that’s where you’ll be living, Misha will need protection,” she stated. “There are a lot of things out there dying to make a meal of a small dog.”
“Out where?”
“Misha needs a vest,” Connie called out, ignoring my question, and I saw two techs scramble to get whatever it was she’d asked for.
“What vest?” I pressed her. “And out where?”
Gale was chuckling beside me.
She waved her hand dismissively. “Summerland is on the side of the mountain, and the forest is a bit dense in that area. You don’t want to lose your baby to predatory birds or a pack of coyotes, now do you?”
“No, of course not, but—”
“Neon yellow or froggy green?” another tech asked, holding up two vests, one the color of safety gear on a construction site, the other of little life jackets I’d seen kids wear into pools. The colors weren’t really the interesting part. What made the vests stand out was that they were both covered in a mix of bondage spikes and porcupine quills.
“So? Which one?” Connie prompted, and I realized she was waiting for me to say something.
“I’m sorry, what are those?”
Long exasperated sigh from Connie. “They are anti-coyote-and-hawk vests.”
Apparently it was a really stupid question on my part. “Okay,” was all I could think of to say.