Page 2 of A Furry Thing Called Love (Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #7)

Arlo

This was a terrible idea. Millie, while mostly leash trained, apparently needs to be bird trained as well.

Either not many birds come into our yard, or I’ve been too busy burying myself in work and trying to ignore my problems to notice.

Either way, bird-proofing the dog wasn’t on today’s to-do list. It probably should have been, but when your other dog came to you fully trained, you realize how much of the nitty gritty you missed out on.

Different circumstances, sure, since Eli is a fully trained mobility dog, but still.

There’s a reason it took a lot of pouting, and promises I knew he wouldn’t live up to on Will’s end, to get me to agree to the puppy.

I must have been out of my damned mind when I gave in.

That's the only explanation. I was in a good place, at least I thought I was, but maybe I was already feeling down without realizing it? My mental health has been fairly steady for a while, but in dealing with my failing relationship, it’s entirely possible I wasn’t as okay as I thought.

Not that I believed a puppy would save us—I’ve never been that type of person. I was five steps away from leaving before Will finally did. Both of us were aware we weren’t good for each other.

Millie tugs on her lead, yipping in her adorable, high-pitched way, as she tries to go after the seagulls on the beach.

“No,” I say. “Millie, heel.” She stops for a moment at the sound of my voice, but then a bird squawks and sets her off again.

I try to drag her attention away from the birds, but the “watch me” command hasn’t been ingrained in her.

“Come.” I tug gently on the leash, not wanting to drag her, but I make sure my tone and the tension I have on the lead is firm.

When she finally realizes she can’t keep trying to go after the poor birds, she gives up and lets me move her on. I try to keep a steady pace while limping along, wishing I had my crutches, but it’s impossible to hold the leash of a wiggling, hyperactive puppy and use them—I’ve tried.

Maybe one day we’ll get to that point, but today is certainly not it.

Moving off to the edge of the sidewalk, I pull a treat out of my pocket and coax Millie closer to me. “Sit. Good girl.” I praise her and feed her the treat, using her distraction as a way to shorten the lead.

Holding her too close puts my already unsteady balance off more, but I’m out of options, unless I want to risk her trying to go after more unsuspecting birds.

You know someone who can help with that , my asshole brain tries to tell me. I shove the thought to the far recess of my mind, like I’ve been doing every damned day since moving back.

This move is supposed to be a new start for me, not a step back into the grieving, masochistic mess I was when Will managed to get his claws into me.

That’s really the only explanation I have for our entire relationship, and why I let it go on for as long as I did.

He’s…not a bad guy, but he was not the one for me, that was clear from the off-set.

Still, I let his pretty looks and the good times we had drag me along.

All because I wanted to forget what a true, loving relationship was actually like.

I manage to get us all turned around, and we start the slow trek back the way we came. Millie hates having to stay so close to me, but I don’t want to take any chances.

She tries to tug ahead, and I stop walking, giving her a firm command while keeping pressure on her lead; not pulling her back, but only relaxing when she does.

“Good girl.” I dig out another treat, and lean over to pat her head.

As I straighten up, something catches her attention and she tries to take off once more. It happens too fast for me to shift my weight correctly and I almost go down, my left knee buckling and my balance shot to shit.

Eli presses himself against me, offering me support, but with my focus on Millie, I can’t even use him to properly brace myself. All I can do is hope I fall correctly and don’t need another hospital trip.

My entire body feels the ache as I hit the cement. Millie’s leash slips from my hand, and I’m barely able to hang on with the tips of my fingers as I try to absorb the pain.

Millie comes over to investigate, and I sigh as she licks my hand before trying to jump on me. “No, down.”

She licks my face and I wrinkle my nose. “Thank you,” I tell her. “Unhelpful, but I appreciate the love.”

“Excuse me, can I help in some way?”

I tense, which only makes the pain in my ass and lower extremities worse, but that voice. It’s the one I’ve been longing to hear for three years now, and what I’ve been trying to avoid since I returned.

Looking up, I meet the dark-brown eyes of the ex-love of my life, and give a small smile.

Jordan’s eyes widen when he realizes who I am. He shifts his gaze from me to Eli for a moment, recognition clear in his expression, licking his bottom lip before letting out a shaky breath. “Can I do something?”

“Grab Millie?” I ask. My grip on the lead is negligible at best, and even though everything hurts, I’m much more worried about her than anything else.

“Sure, of course.”

He closes the distance between us and grabs the leash, careful not to touch me as he takes it from my fingers. His every movement is slow, so as not to scare the already excitable puppy, but quick enough that she can’t get away either.

Jordan doesn’t ask if I need help to stand, trusting that I’ll ask if I need to.

The problem is…I’m not so sure I can be trusted to speak up right now.

Because I know, if he puts his hands on me, every door I’ve kept locked for the last three years will open with a vengeance, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

Carefully, I get my left leg up first, and using Eli as a guide and his specially designed harness to hold onto, I push up off the ground with my good leg.

It’s hard to not lean all of my weight on Eli as I get my bearings again, but we’ve been together long enough that he can anticipate my needs, bracing himself and giving me something to use as leverage as I carefully distribute my weight onto both legs.

“Can you…” I gesture to the cane on the ground.

Without missing a beat, or making a production out of it, Jordan scoops up the walking stick and hands it over.

“Thank you.”

Jordan smiles, his eyes lighting up. “No problem. I’m glad I was here to help. I saw you fall and it looked like you went down pretty hard.”

I shake my head. “Nah. I’ll probably be one big bruise, but I’m fine. I’ve been in the midst of a relapse the last few weeks, so my balance is shot. I needed to get her out though, to start doing more than just backyard leash training.”

“I get it. If you need any help…”

“Thanks, I think we’ll be fine; a few more things to work on than I thought, is all.”

“At least let me lead her back to your car? I’m assuming that’s where you’re headed?”

I nod. “That’ll be great.” I look to the dogs. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Jordan and I walk side by side down to where I left my car.

He easily takes control of Millie, and quietly but firmly keeps her at his side.

Envy tries to bubble its way up as I watch.

Not because he seems to be having an easier time with her than I was—well, not only because of that.

I know if I were able-bodied, I would be able to do it.

I’m by no means an expert, but when I was younger, I single-handedly trained my family dog.

I have the tools in my arsenal, but…it’s been years since I’ve had a puppy, and I was not only younger, but steadier on my feet back then.

Still, we’ll get through it, eventually. There might just be some bumps along the way. I’m sure there are better, more efficient ways, but if I could just instill the basics in her, every walk we go on won’t be so treacherous.

“You know, I noticed Eli first,” Jordan says as we walk. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” I look down at the yellow lab, who happily trots at my side. “He was a fan favorite at our old P-A-R-K.”

“I bet.” Jordan goes quiet and I look at him, internally wincing at the downturn tilt of his mouth, and how his eyebrows furrow.

My heart clenches as I watch him, knowing I’m the one who did this, who made him question his words and left him to wonder about…everything.

“How long are you here for this time?” he finally asks. And fuck if that isn’t a blow to my already fragile heart.

I let out a long, slow breath. “Forever, I hope.”

Jordan stops walking. I stop as well, but keep my gaze forward for a long moment, even as I can feel his stare boring into the side of my face.

“You’re serious?”

I meet his gaze, those soulful eyes of his burning into mine, and it’s a fight to not fall into them, like I did once upon a time.

“Yeah, I am. I realized a while ago that this place is where I belong.” I realized the day I left that I was making a mistake. I don’t say those words, of course. I can’t.

“I’m happy you’ve finally figured that out.”

“Yeah, me too.” It only took losing you.

We continue walking, and Jordan gets Millie hooked into her carseat for me.

“Thank you for all your help, Jor.”

“You’re welcome.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card holder, extracting one and handing it over. “I know you’ve got this, but if you ever need any extra help, I run puppy classes two days a week. I still offer private sessions, as well, if you need something more individualized.”

I take the card, smiling gently at the simple yet elegant design. “Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

“It was good seeing you, Arlo.”

“You too.”

Jordan doesn’t glance back when he walks away, and I wonder if this is how he felt the day I left: lost and bereft.