Page 24 of A Furever Home (Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #8)

ARTHUR

“You’re right,” I told Twain, thudding my shoulder into the wall to avoid whacking him with my cane on my way to Shane’s front door. The bell rang again, and I winced. “It’s my own stupid fault my head hurts.” He whined and hovered at my heels.

I’d come back to Shane’s after my doctors’ appointments and lazed around all afternoon, instead of going to the shelter.

The surgeon had said my thigh was healing well.

No more bandages and I could shower again if I wanted to.

Which, heck yes! First thing I did when I got back.

And she let me trade the crutch for a cane, which felt a bit ambitious right now as I tripped over my damned dog for the second time.

The less said about the neurologist the better.

I’d lied through my teeth about how tolerable my symptoms were, which was ridiculous—I knew that—but I didn’t want to be a burden or an object of pity.

But lying also meant I didn’t have any new medications for the next time pain and vertigo hit.

Today was tolerable, but I’d been kicking myself for the past three hours.

“Coming!” I yelled, at a longer buzz of Shane’s doorbell.

When I reached the foyer, I looked out the tiny window, since I didn’t have the link to the doorbell cam, and then cracked the door open. “James. What are you doing here?”

“Mama sent me.” He squinted in the late afternoon sun and hefted two bags of groceries. “Are you gonna let me in?”

“Of course. Just got to corral the pups.” I caught Twain’s collar with one hand and dropped my cane to hold Eb’s with the other. Chili hated strangers, so she wouldn’t come to the sound of the door, and Xandra was basking in the back window ledge. “Come inside quick.”

James ducked around the door and shut it. He had a dog too, so he knew the drill. Eb gave a happy bark and pulled toward the bags, sniffing noisily. James raised the sacks high. “Not for you, greedy guts.”

“Wait,” I said, as James headed for the kitchen with the bags raised above Eb’s nose level. “How does your mama even know where I am? I haven’t told her yet. And why send you?” I bent, fished my cane off the floor, and followed him.

“Mama knows everything.” James flashed me a bright grin as he set the bags on the counter.

“In this case, Joe told Kevin that he drove you and the menagerie to Shane’s, and Kevin told Danny when they met while out on a morning dog walk.

Don’t ask me why the topic came up, but small town, you know.

Danny told Mama, and she got hold of me to ask if you’d likely have food in the house, since Shane expected to be gone a month. ”

“Uh.” I pulled my phone out.

James and Danny’s mama had blown up my phone the first couple of days after my accident, making sure I was doing okay, and she’d texted daily since.

Even offered to come down that second day, or to send one of the extended family to help out, till I’d convinced her I was fine.

I was just one of James’s many friends, but Mama treated me like family.

Even though she had a whole lot of real family who needed her more than I did. “She didn’t ask me.”

“Of course not.” James began putting milk and eggs and cheese in the fridge. “Mama’s no fool. She knows if she asked you, you’d say you were fine, great, don’t bother. So she just skipped the middleman and sent me.”

“Oh.” I sat down with a thump on a kitchen chair. Eb came over to lick my wrist before focusing back on the tall Black dude with all the food. Eb had his priorities.

James glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like she was right. You have next to nothing in here. Some condiments. And cat food.”

“I didn’t have time to shop yet.” Or energy. “I had appointments.”

“With the doctors? How’d that go?”

“I’m healing. I get to ditch the crutch, but still not drive for three more weeks, which sucks.”

“You know Colin and I are home most days, right? Happy to give you a ride wherever.”

James worked his computer-security business from home. Colin, while mostly recovered from his liver transplant surgery, had enough money to be a stay-at-home foster dad. Which didn’t mean they weren’t busy with those kids and that business, especially first thing in the morning. “Thanks.”

“Thanks, he says,” James muttered to the carton of yogurt in his hand. “But will he call? No, he will not.”

“I would if I needed to.”

“Exhibit A.” James swept his hand up and down the mostly empty fridge, put the yogurt away, and closed the door.

“I could’ve gone shopping. It’s not that late.”

“Hey, you’re lucky I dissuaded Mama from coming down here and cooking for you.”

I’d never turn down Mama’s awesome cooking, but she had her heart problems and her family. I wouldn’t want her to stress herself. “Thank you. Anyhow, I could go out to eat.”

“Tell me that scowl on your face isn’t because your leg’s killing you.” He pulled out a chair and straddled it backward, arms crossed on the back, gaze fixed on me. “So. Why are you here instead of at Brooklyn’s? Because I heard the way you talked about him. You liked him.”

I looked down at Twain, ruffling his silky ears. “Yeah, but his teenage sister arrived. It’s all a big thing. She needed his time and space, and there wasn’t room for me.”

“And when he settles up with his sister, you’ll go back?”

“I’ll be healed up enough to go back to my own place by then.”

“Aaargh! You’ll at least call him and ask him out? Date the guy?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.” If he called me, if he wanted to. I wouldn’t hold my breath.

I spent way too much of my time asking people to do things for me—adopt this needy dog, donate this money, mention the shelter in that story or blog or website.

As much as I adored having the shelter and space to help so many more pets, and as much as Neil took a lot of the begging duties off me, it still felt stifling.

The dogs and cats and rabbits and iguana and all were innocent and important.

I could ask for them. Asking for myself was one step too far.

Anyhow, Brooklyn was new in town. He hadn’t met many people yet.

Gaynor Beach was full of hot gay men. Also kind gay men, and funny, smart, going-places gay men.

All sorts of guys who were closer to his age, and didn’t come with a pack of rescue dogs and a job that ate their every waking moment. He could do better.

James was shaking his head. “Arthur, we’ve been friends for what, four years now? I bet I know what’s going on in your mind.”

“Hah.” I straightened. “Did you guess I was debating what I should make for dinner?”

“Sure you were. Have you talked to Brooklyn today, or texted him?”

“We texted last night.” Or at least, he had.

I’d left it on read, because I’d been tired, headachy, and emotional, and likely to say things I didn’t mean to, if I’d gotten started.

And then in the morning, it was embarrassing that I hadn’t at least said thank you.

So I put it aside to think about later, and the longer I waited, the more embarrassing it got.

“Aren’t you curious how things went with that teen sister?”

“I guess.” Yeah, I was. I liked Cheyenne, despite how clearly she didn’t want me around. She had spunk, and from what little Brooklyn had told me about his parents, I had mad respect for her, keeping that independent spirit despite them.

“Give me your phone.” James held out a big hand.

“Why?”

He waved at me. “Trust me.”

“Okay.” I touched the lock and passed my phone over.

“I won’t look at the messages before, I promise.”

“You can.” There was nothing questionable down in words.

“Really? That’s disappointing. Okay, how about this?” He recited aloud as he typed. “‘Hey there, sorry I left you on read last night—’” He aimed a narrowed frown at me. “‘I was really tired. Had errands this morning but I wanted to know how—’” He paused typing. “What’s the sister’s name?”

“Cheyenne.”

“Really? And he’s Brooklyn? Their parents had a theme.” He went back to typing. “‘—how Cheyenne is doing. And how you’re doing. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.’” He eyed me. “Is that okay?”

It was what I should’ve sent if I didn’t have my head a long way up my ass. The click of small nails in the hall made me say, “Add, ‘Chili misses you.’”

“She does? That little four-legged viper doesn’t miss anyone.”

“She’s not that bad. And she really likes Brooklyn.”

“Wow, he must be a saint. Done.” James typed, hit send, and passed the phone back to me.

Brooklyn’s not a saint, but he is a good man. I missed him a lot in that moment. Missed his dimpled smile across the table and the sound of his voice and his hand under my elbow when I overbalanced.

Before I could put my phone away, it chimed. The name at the top said Brooklyn.

Brooklyn

We’re making progress. Had a decent chat, talked to a lawyer. How are you doing? Did you have your doctor’s appointment? What did they say?

James caught my wrist and tipped the phone toward him so he could read the screen. “That doesn’t look like a guy who’s not interested.”

“I guess.”

He stood, pushed the chair in, and pointed a finger at me. “Text him back or call him, whatever. And eat. Or I’ll sic Mama on you.”

“Oh no! Threats!” I managed a smile.

“Believe it.” He hesitated. “You know we’re doing this because we care about you, yeah?”

“I know.” Meeting James, back when we’d both struggled to finish that 5K charity run, was one of the best things that’d ever happened to me.

“Okay. I’ll let myself out. You touch base with your guy.”

He’s not my guy. Even if I wished he was. Eb and Twain followed James to the door, but I trusted him to let himself out safely and make sure the door was latched with my pups on the correct side.

My phone pinged again. Brooklyn hadn’t waited for my answer.

How’s Chili taking the change of venue?

James was right. I couldn’t pretend Brooklyn was just being polite.

I replied,

She’s fine. Misses you. She sniffed around the place and whined at the front door last night. Is Cheyenne okay?

Will be, I think. My parents don’t deserve to get her back. Hopefully my lawyer can make that happen

I did a quick check of my contacts, then offered,

If he can’t, there was a lawyer, Wynn Cavannah, who helped us with the shelter. He seemed really smart

Small world. That’s who I hired. Or small town, I guess

I smiled.

Yeah. Small town

Which made me think of Shane, James, Mama, Joe and Kevin, Danny, plus Neil and all the volunteers, helping me out. There were good sides to that small-town feel.

We kept on texting, ordinary stuff. I told him I’d swapped the crutch for a cane, and he sent me a champagne bottle gif, which I told him was premature. He sent me a brief video of Poppy romping with Jett, while a new little dog lurked in the corner of the yard.

I asked,

Who’s the new baby?

Sadie. It’s her first time here. She’s very shy with people, but the other dogs seem to perk her up

I peered closer at the screen.

What kind of dog is she? A terrier mix of some kind?

Brooklyn called me on video chat and after a second of hesitation, I switched over. “Not sure,” he said, aiming his camera at the little dog to give me a better look.

She had wiry beige-and-white hair, half-flopped ears, and a long, pointed nose. From the little I could see, she seemed thin, perhaps ten pounds in weight. When the other two romped past, they dwarfed her.

Brooklyn guessed, “Maybe some Maltese? The woman who brought her just said ‘a little mutt.’”

I flinched. “That’s not very kind.” Even if it was descriptive.

“Yeah, I didn’t like the owner much. She didn’t even say goodbye to Sadie like most people do, but she signed off on the fee schedule.”

“How long do you have Sadie?”

“Technically, she was supposed to go home an hour ago. The owner’s late.”

I frowned down at the screen.

Brooklyn aimed the camera at where Sadie wagged her moth-eaten tail when Jett paused his backyard-world domination zoomies to sniff noses with her. At least she looked happier. But then as Brooklyn approached with his phone, her ears went down and she backed off a couple of steps.

I said, “Yeah, nervous baby.”

“I’m going to try some more treats. I want her owner to see her having fun so she can come back and romp with the herd.”

Chili suddenly barked down the hall, bolted into the kitchen, and charged toward me, her little feet scrabbling on the tiles. When she reached me, she bounced up and down and whined loudly.

“Is that Chili?” Brooklyn asked.

At the sound of Brooklyn’s voice, Chili began barking louder. I flinched. “Hush, baby.” That worked about as well as expected. “You need to see Brooklyn?” I tilted the phone. “Here, dude, tell this dog everything’s fine and you haven’t forgotten her.”

Brooklyn laughed and began crooning to my dog. The view on the screen switched to his front camera and there he was. I hadn’t forgotten what he looked like in twenty hours, but something about seeing him there in his familiar yard in the October sunshine hit me under the ribs. I wanted him.

Wanted his soft voice as he teased both Chili and Sadie, murmuring to the little white terrier that if she learned to be a drama queen like Chili, she could have all the treats and attention.

Wanted his silky, straight hair that flopped over his forehead, a texture my fingertips vividly remembered.

I wanted to kiss those dimples and that mouth, and to feel the scritch of his stubble on my skin. Wanted to give him beard-burn in all the right places.

Sitting there in Shane’s kitchen, I longed to be in that backyard with an intensity that took my breath away.

My dick went hard and my hands shook. I was about to say something—don’t ask me what—when, off camera, Cheyenne called, “Hey, that lawyer guy is back at the door. Do you want me to let him in, or what?”

Her voice dumped a bucket of cold water on me. Of course, I wasn’t going to run over there and kiss Brooklyn. Of course, he had other important things to do. I hadn’t really forgotten, just set it out of my mind for a moment.

“I’ll let you go,” I said.

“Sorry.” He stood, taking the phone with him so I got a swooping look at the kennels behind him. “I have to see what he says. Chat later, maybe?”

“Sure,” I told him. I wouldn’t hold my breath, or expect too much, but if he did message, or call? “You know where to find me.” I tapped the red button.