Page 29 of A Furry Thing Called Love (Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #7)

Arlo

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I say with a sigh.

“You know you love them,” Jordan replies.

I sigh again and watch as he takes the crate out of his car. “You don’t need help, do you?”

“Nah, I got it. Just stay there and look pretty.”

“You’re not cute, or funny.”

“Lies.”

I watch from a safe distance as he carries the crate over to the run he’s spent the last few weeks perfecting.

Millie whines, and I glance over to the gate that connects the front and side yards, finding three curious faces watching Jordan’s every move. With a click of my tongue, all eyes look to me, and Millie settles a little with the non-verbal command.

“Good girl.” Walking over, I rub her nose through the link of the fence, getting a few slobbery fingers for my trouble.

Over the last year and a half, Millie has proven to be a gentle, loving, and playful dog. I knew she was, she just lacked the training because her first “owner” wasn’t a good fit. With the proper tools, care, and attention? She’s amazing.

And that’s all thanks to the man currently trying to prevent his newly acquired chickens from escaping their new home.

I shake my head and call out, “Are you already defeated by the chickens?”

“Not at all!” he cheerily replies, finally managing to shut and lock the door to the run. “See, aren’t they great!”

I stare at the four white and gray birds checking out their new home. “I am so not going near those things.”

Jordan snorts. “You’ll learn to love them.”

I give him a blank stare and he laughs, coming over to sling an arm around me as we watch the new additions to his menagerie from afar. “Next will be another goat.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on! Juniper needs a friend.”

I step away from him. “You’re out of your mind.” Unlatching the gate, I let the dogs into the rest of the yard.

All three of them immediately go over to the chickens to stare at them. I shake my head. “I’m going inside, where the sane people are.”

“Uhh, Rodey’s in there, he’s far from sane.”

Sadly, he’s right, but at least Porter is also inside, and he’s sane. So is Jude, the calico I got him for his birthday last year.

Walking into the house, I am quick to shut the door as a gray streak tries to beat me to it, crashing into the glass when he fails.

Staring down at Alejandro, I shake my head in disappointment. “You are definitely not one of the sane ones, or smart ones.”

“Dumb as a rock,” Rodey says from his perch.

Swooping down, I pick up the cat and let him climb onto my shoulder as I make my way into the kitchen to wash my hands and get started on dinner.

As tiny claws prick my skin, but thankfully don’t draw blood, I watch as Jordan runs back and forth across the yard, all three dogs and the goat chasing him.

Snorting, I shake my hand at the crazy man, but I also can’t help the smile that crosses my lips. Insane he may be, but he’s my favorite type of insanity, and one I plan on keeping for a very long time.

I ended up in Gaynor Beach during one of the hardest times of my life, when I needed to find who I was again after years of pain and a diagnosis that changed everything, and tried to define me. I left because I was terrified of everything I wanted but couldn’t give.

Coming back was for me, but staying? It’s for both of us, because I can’t imagine my life without Jordan, chaotic menagerie and all.

It’s home. It’s love. It’s us.

The End