Page 2 of Yorkie to My Heart (Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #6)

Jeremy

Mornings were my favorite time of day. Mornings in SoCal were glorious and, to my delight, this stunning sky was streaked with pink, purple, and orange light hitting the clouds in that stunning way that always stole my breath. Mornings where I was on my own were the best.

Naturally, I had to stop and take a picture of the sky. Because what else did one do when presented with such majesty? With nature in all her glory?

I checked my smartwatch stats for running distance, average pace, and heart rate.

All looked great. I resumed my run toward the corner of the walkway in the park and…

barreled right into the leash of a dog. I barely caught myself—but managed.

My first concern was for the dog which appeared terrified as I nearly fell on it.

I crouched. What an adorable little dog. “Hi, sweetheart. Are you okay?” I held out my hand.

The dog sniffed, then launched herself at me.

Herself?

Himself?

I had no idea.

She planted herself against my chest and began a thorough licking.

Her body felt heavy for her size, and as I petted her, I noted she was pretty round and chubby. None of my concern, though.

I should probably look up for her human, right? The owner might not want some stranger loving on their dog.

So I ran my gaze upward. Sensible walking shoes. Worn jeans. A USC sweatshirt.

An adorable man. Clean-shaven. Dark-blond hair. Sunglasses that hid his eyes. A sweet face. Just…perfection.

Slowly, I disentangled myself from the dog. “Okay, sweetheart, let me say hi to your daddy.” Just as slowly, I rose. I was taller than the guy—who appeared so young that he might still be a USC student. I held out my hand. “Jeremy. Apologies…I sort of love dogs.”

After a long hesitation, the young man stuck out his hand while staring at the ground. “Phillip.”

His shyness spoke to me. “And your dog?”

“Oh, right.” He stammered that out. “Wally. His name’s Wally.

” He drew in a breath. “I only rescued him yesterday. So, like, less than twenty-four hours ago. So he came this way, right? Fat? I didn’t make him fat.

He’s not following after me. I mean, I’m obviously overweight.

And I didn’t always used to be. So we’re, like, walking.

We’re going to do that every day—rain or shine.

And a diet. We’re both on a diet. Well, he’s on a reduced quantity diet.

With diet food. Me? I’m just trying to eat healthier.

And less, right?” He pressed a hand to his forehead.

“And you didn’t need to know any of that. ”

“It’s nice to meet you, Phillip.” I gazed down at a clearly adoring Wally. “I think it’s great you rescued Wally. He’s damn lucky to have you.”

“I think…maybe so.”

His expression was so damn uncertain—what with the furrow in his brow. I didn’t know how to reassure him. Or maybe Wally wasn’t lucky. Maybe they wouldn’t be a good fit. “Would you like to walk for a bit?”

“You were running.” Again with the uncertainty.

“I need to cool down now. I’m not far from my house. Today’s a short run.”

“Uh, sure.” He slowly guided Wally to him. “We’re not far from home either. I wanted to, uh, get the lay of the land. Figure out where everything is.”

“You’re new to Gaynor Beach? Or just to Riverside? I grew up in Marina Park but wanted to get away from my family. Which is like a whole mile away.” I laughed. “And although I’m somewhat successful, I’m not Marina Park successful like my dad.”

He cocked his head.

“A more-expensive part of town. I might buy there eventually, but I really like the Riverside community. Lots of working families. Tons of kids.”

“You like kids?” More of that knitted brow.

“Well, sure. Who doesn’t like kids?” And shit, that was the wrong thing to say because a lot of people didn’t like kids.

Like all the people who chose not to have them.

Absolutely a decision I respected. If you didn’t love them, then you sure as shit shouldn’t be having them.

Still, I persevered. “My sister Marcie has two beautiful kids. I mean, like super cute and super healthy—which is all you can really ask for, right? She considers herself blessed.”

“Yeah.” Phillip scratched his chin. “Lucky.”

I desperately wanted to ask him about himself. None of my business, of course, but I was still intensely curious.

Finally, he pointed across the park. “That’s the way we’re going. You don’t have to?—”

“No, I’d love to. If you don’t mind.” I checked my heart rate. A good cooldown range. I didn’t like to stop running abruptly, and if I had a cramp, I’d be forced to stop, but this should be fine. I planned to drink plenty of water when I got home.

We headed in the direction he’d pointed.

The direction that led to my house.

“Uh, which street do you live on? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Wally continued his adorable waddle.

He didn’t pull on his harness, which I considered a bonus.

I’d had a dalmatian growing up, and she’d been forever yanking on her leash.

Years of training and we’d never broken her of the habit.

Wild and wonderful Spot. Completely unoriginal name for a dalmatian, and most people wound up misgendering her.

Still, I’d loved her from the day my parents brought her home until the day she passed.

By then, I was away at university and Marcie had almost finished high school.

My parents wanted to travel, so they’d never gotten another dog.

Somehow, in my crazy and insanely busy adult life, I’d never gotten one either.

As I surreptitiously glanced at Phillip, it occurred to me that I should consider it.

I was getting older. That didn’t have anything to do with the hankering…

kids weren’t in my future, and having a companion might be a good idea.

As we exited the park, I considered. “Which street do you live on?”

“Uh…”

“Sorry, asking too many questions. Making too many assumptions. You know what they say about assume…”

“Sure…” Phillip scratched his nose. “Well, actually, no.”

“Oh. It makes an ass out of u and me .”

I slowed down a fraction. Should I spell it out to him? Not everyone gets the joke. Just because I use it all the ?—

“Okay, yeah.” He chuckled. “That’s a good one.”

Relief washed over me. Despite his solid body, his apparent fragility called to me. His words were often tentative—as if he worried about how I would react.

“I, uh…” He kept walking. “I live on Hummingbird Lane.”

“Oh, wow, that’s so cool. I do too.” I matched his stride. Slower than I would normally do, but still at a good pace. “I’ve never seen you before.” Too obtrusive? Too nosy? Yeah, probably.

“I just moved in. Like the day before yesterday.”

“Oh.” I snapped my fingers. “I passed a furniture truck as I was getting home on Monday. I’d run down to see a client in Costa Mesa.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been the furniture people from San Diego. Nikki and some guy whose name I don’t remember. Ralph? Fred?” He ran his hand through his damp hair. The morning wasn’t particularly warm and our pace wasn’t that fast, but he was sweating.

I cut my stride length by a bit more.

He immediately matched it and let out a little sigh.

Damn. Be more attentive. “New furniture?” Now I thought about it, I’d seen that truck before. “Do you live at number thirteen?”

He cast me a sharp glance and nearly tripped.

I nearly reached for him, only stopping when it became clear he wasn’t going to fall. “Sorry. Intrusive.”

“No…I just wondered how…?”

“Well, possibly because I know everyone on Hummingbird Lane and no one mentioned moving. No for sale signs recently. No scuttlebutt around the neighborhood.”

“Scuttlebutt?”

“Sorry. My grandfather was in the navy. He had a huge influence on me, and sometimes I use odd expressions.” I shrugged.

“People look at me funny, but it keeps him alive for me, right? He was a veteran of the Second World War. Married my grandmother later in his life. She was older too, and they only had my mom. I didn’t have a ton of time with him, but I used to sit on his knee and listen to all his stories.

” I laughed. “And learned his salty language—much to my mother’s horror.

My father just chuckles. He grew up in the hippie days.

Well, his impressionable years, as he likes to refer to them. ”

“Uh, wow.”

Phillip’s color appeared a little less hectic.

I hadn’t noticed how red he’d gotten until it improved.

“Right. And here I am rambling on. So what I’m trying to say is that I hadn’t heard about anyone leaving.

But the house next to me always has people moving in and out.

I know the owner, James Reynolds. Nicest guy. Lovely husband, fantastic dog.”

“Uh…” He frowned.

“Widget. I just adore her. Almost enough to make me want to get a Frenchie of my own, but they’re so much work. So many health problems. I would never buy one. Well, I’d never buy any dog. Did you get Wally from the shelter?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. So you met Arthur? He’s James’s best friend.

I met them both just after James moved in.

Then James met Colin and moved out. Another nice man and his two kids moved in.

Rob. With Hallie and Thomas. Oh my God, the cutest kids.

And they stayed until they moved into James and Colin’s old house over in… Oh God, I’m doing it again.”

We left the park and stepped onto Fern Avenue.

“Doing what?” Phillip wiped his brow.

“Talking. You don’t need to know who all has lived in the house.”

“I don’t mind.”

Wally glanced back at us, panting hard.

I slowed another little bit. “Well, that’s good of you. Rob started dating Danny, James’s younger brother and, like I said, moved into James and Colin’s old place when they moved to Marina Park.”

“The expensive place.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Colin has money. Rob works at the vet clinic, and Danny’s in school. I think, studying to be a psychologist…? That’s so cool. They have a dog, too. A husky. Named Trouble.”

Phillip chuckled.