I look down at the adorable pup and sigh. If anybody needs a dog in their life, it’s Logan. He needs a companion, someone to keep him company and form a quiet bond with. Someone to be with him when I can’t. There’s something about this sweet animal that reminds me of him, and it’s not just the size. I probably can’t afford to take care of a dog of this size anyway, at least not until I start tattooing full time. The food bill alone would bankrupt me.
“Shop dog?” I say, hoping for a compromise.
“We can’t have a dog in the shop.”
I sigh. It was worth a shot.
“Okay.” I hand him the leash. “You can adopt him.”
“If he’s not already chipped,” Logan adds.
He takes the leash from my fingers, gives a sharp whistle, and the dog falls right into step beside him as they march to his truck.
They’re kind of a perfect match.
Logan is driving out of the parking lot when I swing the door to the shop open and return to my tattoo bay and iced Americano. My phone buzzes in my back pocket.
BlackShirtBlackPants554: You will never replace me.
“Oh, fuck off,” I grumble, then lock the screen and stuff it back in my pocket. I roll my neck, trying to shake off the stress. My phone buzzes again, and I catch the notification at the top of the screen.
I clutch my drink, but condensation has built up around the sides of the plastic to-go cup, making it slick. As soon as I bring it to my mouth and sip from the straw, the drink slips from myfingers and lands at my feet, exploding on impact and spraying all of my clothes and every visible inch of my workstation.
I nod at the mess. “Cool.”
Sighing, I trudge back to the kitchen area and wet some paper towels, then tuck a canister of Lysol wipes under my arm to get to work cleaning my space before my client arrives. I was hoping to ask Casper about my drawing, but it looks like that will have to wait until this afternoon because with the way my luck is going, I’ve got my work cut out for me today.
Every time I hear the shop’s door open, I’m on my feet, checking to see if Logan is back. He’s gone for over an hour before he returns. The back door opens, and I step out of my booth just in time to catch him sneaking in the back entrance—dog in tow—now sporting a fresh new collar fitted with a couple metal tags.
He actually fucking did it.
I stop at the end of the hallway and plant my hands on my hips. “What happened to no dogs allowed in the shop?”
His eyes catch mine, and he holds up a finger to his lips while sneaking the massive beast into his office.
“What did you name him?” I ask.
“Dogmeat.”
My lips part. That’s the most heinous name I’ve ever heard.
He chuckles, probably at the shock I’m wearing all over my face. “Relax. Thought I’d give you the honors. Pick something good.”
Sitting in the chair across from my desk, Casper speaks with a hushed voice, even though the door is closed. “Are you sure you aren’t taking this too far?”
That’s rich coming from him; a house of cards has more stability than Casper.
Thor leans against the wall of my office with his arms crossed over his chest. He swivels his gaze to Casper and shoots an open palm in my direction. “Of course he’s taking it too far!”
He grins ear to ear at Thor’s outburst; he loves getting a rise out of him. Thankfully, Kelly is out taking the unnamed dog for a short walk. I’ve just finished going over the upcoming travel plans for the expo in Bozeman. I have no idea if she’ll even be speaking to me by then.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh. This was always the plan. Did they think I wouldn’t follow through? The hard part isover; Casper and I went out to Bozeman a few months ago and took care of everything. The only thing left to do is show up.
“I need you to trust me on this,” I say, repeating myself from earlier.
Thor scoffs at that answer.
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t have done the same with Salem if given half the chance?” I’ve struck a nerve. Hell, I’ve probably fucked up his entire nervous system by just mentioning her name. Casper oscillates back and forth between us while we have a mini stare-down.
