Page 14 of The Christmas Trap

5

Lark

Tiny’s big ears flop behind him. His large, mastiff-like tail stretches out. Each time the Great Dane’s big paws hit the ground, it feels like the earth trembles. I’m sure I’m having a flashback to a few hours ago when he almost ran me over.

The difference is that he’s straining at his leash which is held by a very tall, broad-shouldered man with his now-familiar thunderous features.

"Tiny, sit," my boss snaps.

Instantly, Tiny lumbers to a stop and parks his big butt down on the ground a few feet in front of me.

"Hello?" I ask warily.

"I wasn’t following you. But this dog"—my new boss glares at the mutt—"had different ideas."

"Oh." I look down at the happily panting Tiny, and honest-to-God, the pooch seems to be wearing a big joyful smile.

"He got absolutely restless after you left. I barely got any workdone. Then he began pacing my office with his leash in his mouth, whining, and would not let up, until I brought him to the park. At which point"—he gestures to the dog who woofs happily—"he made a run for you."

"Hey boy." I eye the panting Tiny.

He has that permanent please-love-me look, with his big soulful eyes and those wobbling jowls. And then his eyebrows, which tilt in ways that make him look like he’s mildly concerned about his life choices. I love it when dogs have discernible eyebrows.

The mutt is so adorable, I can’t help but smile. Some of that tightness in my chest unravels. Instantly, I feel better.Thank you, Tiny!I think I might be in love with a dog for the first time in my life.

I move toward him. Except for his panting, he stays completely still. I tickle him behind his ear, and he makes a purring sound.

I laugh. "You’re adorable."

"He made sure I couldn’t get any work done this morning." My boss glowers at the dog. “I should have realized when I offered to dog sit that this was a possibility.”

“He’s not your dog?”

“He belongs to Arthur, my grandfather, who’s on a short break with his girlfriend. He asked me to take care of Tiny. I couldn’t refuse. The pooch does have a regular dog sitter, who’s sick today. I had no choice but to bring him in to work."

My boss tugs on Tiny’s leash.

"Up, Tiny."

Tiny doesn’t budge.

"You dragged me out. Might as well do your business now," Brody snaps.

I sense my boss’s growing irritation.

Tiny, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care. He continues to stare up at me.

"Tiny," Brody warns.

No response from the Great Dane.

"Tiny, up boy," I croon.

Instantly, he pops up to a standing position.

"What the—" My boss’s jaw firms. He glares at the mutt.

I laugh. “Well, he’s up now. I’m sure he’ll follow your orders from now on.