Page 6 of Numbers Boy (Working Boys #2)
CHAPTER SIX
Noah
MONDAY MORNING, I spend an extra half an hour getting ready for my day. I take a thorough shower, moisturize with my good moisturizer, and actually try to do something with my hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants as it dries.
I’m trying to be casual about it, but it’s enough that Blake notices when I come down the hallway from the bathroom, and he immediately starts to tease me.
“You realize that your meeting with Stacy and her doggy dad isn’t until five, right? There’s no way that your hair is going to stay that nice when you’re walking dogs around all day and playing with them at the park.”
“I know,” I groan, dragging a hand down my face, my stubble scratching against my palm, “but I can’t help it. I want to look nice for him. He’s so pretty and put together, and here I am, looking like something the cat dragged in.”
“Or dog dragged in, which is sometimes literally true,” Blake adds, oh-so-helpfully.
“Why am I friends with you again?” I ask playfully as I pull on my beanie, ruining all of the hard work I just did on my hair.
“Because I’m willing to call you on your shit but also hope that your day goes well and mean it.
” He puts his hands on my shoulders and waits until I look at him.
When his gray eyes catch mine, I can tell he’s serious about what he says next.
“I hope your day goes well. You are an awesome guy, and if this Steve is even half as great as you say he is, he’ll realize that.
And if we need to, we’ll figure out how you wanting to bone him works with him being a client. ”
I crack up laughing and shake my head. “You know, you were doing so good with the supportive crap. Then you went and used the phrase ‘bone him’ and completely ruined it.”
“It’s why you love me.”
“Fair enough. I hope you have a good day, too. You’ve got the Barlow twins for playtime today?
” The Barlow twins are two massive Great Danes.
They’re amazing dogs and the sweetest things ever, but they don’t always realize how big they are.
Usually, playtime with them ends with one of us covered in snow, mud, or grass, depending on the season.
“Yep. I’ve got my most waterproof snowpants in my bag for when I pick them up.”
“Have fun.”
“Always, man.”
With that, I’m out the door and heading to my first client of the day.
She’s a sweet old bichon frisé whose owner, Gerry, is just as sweet and just as old as she is.
Gerry can’t really walk her and keep his balance at the same time, especially in the winter when there’s ice to worry about.
So, I stop by every morning to make sure she gets her allotted time of exercise and fresh air.
Sometimes Gerry joins us, but with the cold snap this week, I’m sure he’s going to stay inside. I don’t blame him one bit.
After that, the day flies by with one pet after the other.
It’s a good day, and my full schedule mostly keeps my mind off my final time slot.
But as five o’clock inches closer, I can tell I’m getting antsier.
I’m almost done with my two o’clock dog-sitting appointment when Buddy starts to whine, and I realize that I’m pacing in front of the couch at this client’s home.
I sit down and force myself to take deep breaths.
“It’s okay, Buddy, I’m okay.” The black Lab nudges my hand with his wet nose, and I run a soothing hand along his sleek coat.
He happily hops up onto the couch and lies down with a huff, his head in my lap.
Since his owner is okay with him on the furniture, I let his solid weight relax me.
“I’m just excited for my next stop today.
I get to meet a new furry friend, and her daddy is making me all kinds of nervous.
” He looks up at me with his big brown eyes, head laid heavily over his crossed paws, and I laugh at myself a bit.
“I know, it’s silly to let a guy make me feel this way, but I get the feeling he’s special.
I just hope Stacy – that’s the dog – likes me. ”
Buddy lets out a quiet “ruff,” like he’s responding to my blabbering and saying there’s nothing to worry about.
“You’re right, I’m sure everything will be great.”
Buddy and I continue to sit like that and chat until his owner gets back at about quarter to five.
I give them my typical overview of how the time went, but I can tell I’m on the edge of rushing, and I’m hoping that they don’t want to chat like we tend to do.
Which is kind of rude of me, but I don’t want to be late to meet with Steve.
I mean, Stacy. I don’t want to be late to meet Stacy.
Apparently, they can tell I’m in a rush, too, because they laugh a little as I pull on my layers and get my arm stuck in my sleeve since I forgot to take my hat out of it first.
“Clearly you have someplace exciting to be,” they say, grinning, “so I won’t keep you any longer.”
“Thanks,” I reply with a small grimace. “I’ve got my first meeting with a new dog, and I don’t want to be late.”
“Well, get going, then. And have a good night.”
“You too.” And then I’m out the door and on my way to see Steve and Stacy.
It’s just a few blocks from where I was sitting Buddy to Steve’s apartment building, so I walk instead of having to worry about reparking somewhere that might be even further from where I’m headed. I get there at 4:56. Perfect.
There’s a breezeway I can get into before I have to buzz up to have Steve let me in, so I decide it’s worth it to take a minute and catch my breath.
I pull my gloves and hat off, letting my fingers warm up a bit and then running them through my hair.
Who knows what it looks like at this point, but there’s not much I can do to change it now.
I press the number for Steve’s apartment and wait with bated breath for him to reply.
“Hello?” comes his disembodied voice from the speaker.
Damn, I forgot how sexy he sounds, even over the intercom.
All sweet and smooth. The sound eases down my chest and settles in my stomach, warming me from the inside out.
If that’s the effect of just one word, I can’t imagine what will happen when we have a full conversation.
“Hi, it’s Noah.”
“Hey, come on up.” The door buzzes, and I push my way in.
The building is nice, not super new, but clean and quiet. I ignore the elevator in the lobby, opting to take the stairs in order to burn off some of my pent-up nerves. Once upstairs, I knock on Steve’s door and hear some scuffling come from inside.
“Sit, Stacy,” Steve says before opening the door.
Just like at the coffee shop, his beauty stops me in my tracks.
He’s wearing a thick, fluffy sweater in a dark shade of green that makes his eyes pop, and the hem of it has been cropped just short enough that a strip of his smooth torso is visible above his high-waisted jeans.
I drag my gaze back up to his perfect face, and he’s watching me with a heated look in those deep green eyes.
He pulls the door open wider and gestures for me to enter. “Thanks for coming.”
“Not a problem,” I say and then finally take a good look at Stacy, who has been sitting like a perfect angel while I try not to eye-fuck her human. Her multicolored eyes are mesmerizing. I hold out my hand for her to sniff, and she leans closer to me. “I take it this is Stacy?”
“Yep! Go ahead, Stacy, say hello.”
Stacy gives my knuckles a lick, and I reward her politeness with a scratch behind the ears.
As soon as I pet her, she presses up against my leg and starts wagging her whole butt in happiness.
I laugh and crouch down to give her better pets.
Looking up, I catch Steve’s eye as he watches us with a giant grin on his face.
“She’s beautiful,” I say. Just like her human.
I keep that thought to myself. Even if Steve and I seemed to connect easily before, that doesn’t mean he’s open to being flirted with.
“And well-behaved. I can’t tell you how many pets I meet that can’t wait to see what’s going on with the new person and just bowl right into me. ”
“Yeah, we’ve been working on some commands, but she seems to know quite a few already.
It makes me even more curious about why she was surrendered.
” Steve shrugs, but the motion is stilted, so I think it bothers him more than he’s letting on.
From the little bit I’ve seen so far, Stacy being given up doesn’t make sense to me either.
But sometimes humans are dumb and don’t know what they have when they have it.
“Oh well, their loss is my gain. Should we move this to the living room?”
“For sure.” Since I’m already crouched down, I untie my boots so I can get them off and not track snow into Steve’s apartment.
Stacy takes the fact that I’m still at her level as a sign that I want to play and noses her way in, licking my face.
I grin and give her more pets while I push her gently away.
“Stacy, give the poor man some space. Go lay down,” Steve admonishes lightly. Stacy immediately takes off into the living room that’s just down the hall off the entryway and curls up on a squashy-looking dog bed next to the small fireplace.
“She’s fine, just being a dog.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t hurt for her to have some manners,” Steve says, then turns to follow his pet to the sitting area. I think I hear him mumble something about “besides, she was making me jealous,” but that might just be wishful thinking on my part.
As soon as we both settle on the couch, Stacy perks up her head, and Steve pats the empty cushion between us. Stacy bounds over and plops herself on the couch, her head in Steve’s lap. Talk about being jealous.
“I guess that answers my question about whether she’s allowed on the furniture,” I joke, reaching out to pet her soft fur.