I glance up at George to find him massaging the back of his thick neck.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “Should’ve asked. I know you have a dog, and I thought it would be a fun surprise.”
I think of Grumps, my cranky old-man dog. He would hate the bundle of energy charging toward us on the end of her leash. But I certainly don’t.
“A dog is an amazing surprise.” I grin at the normally taciturn man at my side, still not understanding why I get to meet a puppy at the airport. “Is she a pilot buddy?” I tilt my head toward the woman trying to control her rambunctious charge.
“Me? Heavens no,” she responds, having overheard me. “Like to keep my feet firmly on the ground.” The dog wrangler comes to a stop in front of us. When I hold my hands out for the pup to sniff, the dog covers my palms in wet tongue kisses. “But Pilots and Paws needs drivers, too.”
“Pilots and Paws?” I glance between the two humans as I crouch down to scratch the belly of the fur baby.
“It’s an organization that transports rescue dogs,” George explains.
“Lots of states have shelters filling up,” the woman adds. “We help ease the burden by moving dogs to places where there’s room for them. Where they have a chance of getting adopted or fostered.”
“Wait.We’reflying the dog?” Now I’m fully sitting on the ground, and my lap has been claimed by the pup.
Darla’s words from salon night come back to me.
“What if you get your pilot’s license and then use it to help people…Think about passing on the favor. Paying it forward.”
Pilots and Paws sounds like the exact type of organization that I was hoping to eventually get involved with. A way to help others because George is helping me.
George nods. “If you’re up for it. I fly the plane. You keep her calm.” He props his hands on his waist and stares down at me, an almost-smile lingering in the corner of his mouth. “That work for you?”
In theory, yes. This works very well for me. I get to be in the air more, and I’ll be joined by an adorable doggy that already appears to be utterly devoted to me from the way she is trying to meld her body with mine.
However, I cannot immediately answer his question because my mind needs a moment to process this new information about George Bunsen.
The man works for an organization that helps innocent animals find new homes.
“People get paid to do this?” I croak.
George gives a slow head shake. “Volunteer. Pilots and Paws is nonprofit.”
Oh my god, he does it just because? Who is this man?
Maybe BBN demanded he do volunteer work for some write-off program. But still, he chose this.
“Beth?” George crouches beside me, which tightens his jeans even more, creating high-quality thigh porn.
Answer him!
“Yes. Happy to. I’m happy to help,” I blurt while hugging the dog around her shoulders.
George offers another maybe-smile before straightening. He talks to the woman, whose name I learn is Amanda, and they exchange all the required information for the handoff.
Soon enough I’m in the back seat of the Cessna with a firm grip on Buttercup, heading to her foster home in Pennsylvania. Our job: fly her north, where another volunteer will meet us to drive her the final leg of the journey.
That is if I let them have my new fur baby, which is up for debate.
For the length of the flight, I sit in the back seat, keeping Buttercup calm by petting her. I’d baby talk to her, too, but George slipped a set of doggy earmuffs on her so the loud rumble of the airplaneengine wouldn’t upset the pup. When we level out in the air, Buttercup settles down and drapes herself over my lap, where she stays for the rest of the flight. I don’t even mind when my leg falls asleep.
The airport for the handoff is small, a single runway, and on the descent, I can tell the closest area of population is a decent drive away. The airport isn’t as well maintained as the one we came from. Here there are cracks in the runway with grass growing through the gaps. The land we roll past could use a lawnmower. A couple airplanes that are tied down look like they haven’t been flown in a while. One has two flat tires, and both have peeling paint and birds nesting in the cowling.
“You did great,” I tell Buttercup before handing her off to a kind-looking older couple. The Pilots and Paws volunteers load the pup in their minivan and offer us a wave before driving off, taking a sliver of my heart with them.
I rub my chest to ease the ache.
