“It was just today, and… ahh, Marcus and Jacob offered to pick me up. I figured you and Dom would be otherwise occupied.” Dom snorts, and I elbow him in the ribs.
“And actually, they offered to let me stay with them.” I dart a glance at Marcus and Jacob, who are looking at Lucas with heart eyes. “We have three spare bedrooms, so it would be foolish for him not to stay,” Marcus adds.
I can’t wait to see where this story goes.
“And the puppy you’re holding?” I ask, pointing to the beagle puppy in his arms.
“Isn’t he cute? I mean, look at these ears.” Lucas flaps his ears like he’s Dumbo. I raise an eyebrow at him.
He scoffs. “No, I’m not getting a puppy. But hey, maybe once I get situated and find a permanent place to live, I’ll come back and take one of these cuties home.” Marcus and Jacob share a glance that I pretend not to notice.
Jasper holds up a tiny dog outfit. “Hey Dom, just think, you could have matching outfits.”
“Hey Jasper, come here. Let me show you something.” Jasper’s eyes go wide, and he moves to stand behind Olly.
“Protect me, baby.”
Olly lets out a squeak. “Me?”
I chuckle, then smile with a full heart at this group of people and this family we created.
I stay back and drift down a quieter row. I always feel so bad seeing these animals locked in cages. Alex takes good care of every animal in here, but I don’t know how he and Jaxon don’t have twenty of them living with them.
Then I see him. Black dog, white muzzle like he has a milk mustache, and one ear up as though in question. He’s not performing. He’s sitting nicely, watching the doorway like he’s waiting for someone to notice him.
The card on his kennel says“FIG. Age: 7.Shy at first, loyal once he chooses you.”
“Hey, Fig,” I say, kneeling.
He tilts his head. After a minute, he scoots closer and presses his nose to the bars by my knee. One cautious tail thump and I slide two fingers through. He gives me a single, decisive lick.
“Does that mean you think I’m good people?” I ask Fig. “Because I’m pretty kick-ass.” I give him a nice gentle pet with the fingers that fit through the kennel. “Can I tell you something?” He smooshes himself even closer against the bars. “I got some really good news today. Someone thinks my cooking is good enough for a publishing deal.”
He lets out a bark.
“I know, it’s pretty fucking cool.”
Something deep breaks open in my chest. I think about Dom—his bench and his tie knots, his sweet and spicy scent, how helistens when my thoughts are too loud. My chest swells at the memory of the parole hearing, of him finally standing up to his father. I think about waking up next to him, a man who’s nothing like the person he lets everyone think he is.
The best thing I ever did was decide to come home. To take a moment and really decide what I wanted. Sure, I could have stayed out there and found a different job, but I don’t think I’d be as happy as I am now. And I know a great deal of that has to do with Dom. Don’t get me wrong, I worked my butt off to get where I am today, but with him by my side, it makes the prize even sweeter.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck in here, Fig. If I could give you a second chance and change the course of your life like I got, I would. But you look like you need a yard to run in, and at the moment I’m in a studio apartment above a tattoo shop.”
Fig lets out a doggie grumble.
“Oh, yeah, they’re all hot. I mean, it’s a tattoo shop, for Christ’s sake. There’s this one guy who works there, Dom. He’s all big and brooding. Kinda like you, but he’s the hottest one of them all.” I lean in close to his floppy ears. “And I get to sleep with him.”
“Found you,” Dom says behind me, voice soft, and I startle.
“Always,” I answer without thinking.
He crouches, offers Fig his knuckles. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest boy?” Another lick, and I can hear the smile when he hums.
I glance up to tease him, but he’s already gone.
Two minutes later, Ms. Brandy materializes like a benevolent witch. “Beckett,” she whispers. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see your boyfriend ‘accidentally’ donate enough to cover your adoption fee and three others.”
My mouth does a fish thing. “He… what?”
