“Yeah.” The dog settles on the floor, head on his paws. “But we can’t do that until the morning.” I stifle a yawn, realising it’s already morning. “Well,laterthis morning.”
He nudges me and nods at the dog. “And for now?”
I glance at the hard kitchen floor. “He can’t sleep in here.”
Charlie snorts. “You’re such a softie. He’s been outside in the cold for god knows how long. This probably seems like a palace.” He reaches out and strokes a hand down the dog’s back, smiling when his front paws stretch out. “Have you got an old blanket or something?” Yeah, he’s as soft as me.
In the end, we make him a bed in the corner of the kitchen out of a couple of thick blankets. With a little coaxing, he crawls onto them and settles down.
We both stand there watching him before I realise what we’re doing and laugh.
“What?” Charlie frowns.
“Are we planning to just stand here and watch him sleep?”
He runs a hand over his face and huffs out a laugh. “Is it too late to go back to bed?”
I know he doesn’t mean together, but that doesn’t stop my stomach from fluttering wildly at the thought. I glance at the time on the oven.
5:15am.
I wouldn’t normally get up for another hour and a half, but I’m awake now. I yawn then, which makes me smile. Sort of awake. “I don’t know. By the time I fall asleep, it’ll be time to get up again. Think I’m gonna make a cuppa instead.” I’m about to offer him one too when I realise he doesn’t have to be up any time soon; he can go back to bed and stay there. “But you should go, no point both of us being knackered.”
That frown makes another appearance. “What time does the vets open? I assumed you’d try and get them to squeeze us in first thing. No?”
Us?
He’s killing me here.
It clearly hasn’t occurred to him that he wouldn’t be going too, and that makes my heart swell and my chest ache. So I ignore the fact that after tomorrow this won’t be his problem and turn to flick the kettle on. “Coffee or tea?”
CHARLIE
“Is he chipped?”Pete asks as Jerry waves a scanner over the back of the dog’s neck.
He managed to fit us in before the surgery opened after Pete called him this morning. If he’s surprised that we both turned up, he hides it well.
“No.” Jerry sets the scanner down and fusses the dog, setting his tail going again. “Which makes it harder to find the owners.” He pauses, then sighs. “Assuming they want him back.”
“Wankers,” Pete mutters, and he’s not wrong. Part of me wishes that this lovely, friendly dog escaped by accident. That his owners are out there looking for him right now, because the idea that he was dumped makes me feel sick.
The other part, though, the part that notices how Pete’s shoulders relax, how his fists unclench at that bit of news, hopes that this dog is abandoned. Then Pete can keep him, like I know he wants to.
It might only have been hours since we found him, but Pete’s already in love.
I’m a little jealous.
Woah, where did that thought come from?
“What’s going to happen to him?” Pete asks, and I pretend I didn’t just think that.
“Well, I haven’t heard anything about a lost dog. I can ask around the other local practices. See if anyone’s reported a dog missing.” He sighs and strokes the dog a little more. “He’s not chipped. Wasn’t wearing a collar.” He shrugs. “There are some Facebook groups you can post in. But honestly?” He runs a hand down the dog’s back. “I don’t like our chances of finding his owners.” He steps back and crosses his arms. “Want me to contact a local shelter?”
“No.” Pete tickles the dog under the chin. “He can stay with me until we find who he belongs to.”
“And if we don’t?” Jerry asks, but everyone in the room knows the answer to that.
“Then he can stay with me for good.” Pete’s expression softens and Jerry smirks, like he’s not at all surprised.
