“Just a little friendly advice.” Mason flicked the ticket at him, a sneer curling his mouth. “Consider this our little parting gift.”
Chapter 13
“Know what, pal? You reek.” Gray carried the mangy mutt into the guest bathroom and set him down inside the claw-foot tub.
The dog quivered, his tail tucked between his legs, head down, gazing up at Gray with pitiful eyes.
“Sorry, gotta be done.” He pulled the curtain around them and turned on the shower. The dog scrambled, attempting to leap out, but Gray held him still. “No way, buddy. You’re not staying tonight unless we get that stench off you.”
As the water rained down, Gray got the dog good and wet, then lathered him up with Dove shampoo. His coat was matted and the water beneath his paws ran brown with dirt for a good five minutes. How long had this guy been lost?
Some family would be relieved to get their pet back. At least, that’s what he told himself as he struggled to scrub the ungrateful dog. When he finished rinsing, he shut off the faucet and the mutt gave a big shake, spattering Gray with water.
It was late by the time he finally settled in bed with the biography he’d brought from home—The Accidental President. He glanced down at the dog, who hadn’t left his side for two seconds. Even when Gray had taken his own shower, the dog waited right by the tub. Gray had fed himleftovers from the café and set down a big bowl of water that he lapped right up.
Now the dog was curled beside his bed, making some kind of huffing noise in his sleep. He’d tried to jump into bed with Gray, but that’s where he drew the line. The area rug would have to do. And apparently the lack of bedding hadn’t impeded the dog’s slumber. He’d fallen asleep seconds after Gray retired. Was probably exhausted. What a journey the runt must’ve had.
He stared at the words on the page, but his thoughts returned to Shelby and the bookstore. It was time for him to leave Grandville. But how could he leave her with the store’s finances in such a mess? The memory of those tears welling up in her eyes was like a sucker punch. She was in the throes of grieving her grandma and now she had to face the possibility of losing the store.
But the thing was, that store could be saved. He saw a clear path to profitability if Shelby was willing to make some changes. And it wasn’t as if she had much choice at this point.
If he could just stay for a while, get the business turned around and profitable through the critical holiday season, Shelby would be set on a solid path for the future. But he’d need at least a couple months. He hated to beg Gavin for more time off. Would he even be amenable to that? They weren’t overly busy now, but come the first of January, they’d be dried in on several big projects and the interior workload would keep Gray busy.
The Airbnb had a few bookings, but thankfully it was low season. He could find them comparable places on the lake.
But would Shelby even agree to let him help? She’d barely tolerated his presence these past two weeks. She had her walls up—no surprise. Was she desperate enough to save the shop to put up with him for an extended period of time?
Her family surely wouldn’t like the idea. They wore their aversionto him like a neon sign. Caleb had stopped in three times over the past couple of weeks, checking on his sister. Her dad had made an appearance this week also. They weren’t exactly subtle. Not that Gray could blame them.
He thought of his confrontation with Officer Remington and the man’s veiled threat. Shelby’s relatives weren’t the only ones who wouldn’t be too pleased if Gray stayed on.
But he’d never been one to back down out of fear.
He made up his mind. He’d talk to Shelby first. If she was willing to let him help, he’d request a leave of absence.
The dog sat at Gray’s feet in the veterinary lobby, trembling. Every so often, he turned pathetic eyes up at Gray. Clearly the mutt was getting some bad vibes from this place. Or maybe he could just smell the fear rolling off the quivering Chihuahua across the way.
“Grayson, you can go on back to room two,” the receptionist said.
He stood and led his canine friend with the makeshift leash—a rope from the back of his SUV. The room was down a short hall, first one on the left. He entered and took a seat in one of the plastic bucket chairs. The dog jumped into his lap and, Gray suspected, would’ve taken refuge inside him if that were possible.
“Geez, calm down, buddy. This’ll be quick and painless, and then you’ll be reunited with your family.”
The dog tucked his nose in Gray’s armpit.
“Get out of there, weirdo.”
The dog settled for licking him on the cheek.
While they waited Gray read the posters on the walls. He’d just about exhausted his reading materials when the door opened.
The man who entered was about his age with brown eyes and a fadeaway haircut. He wore a white lab coat and had a toothpaste-commercialsmile. “Hi, I’m Dr. Patrick.” His eyes narrowed in recognition. “Gray Briggs?”
Great, the guy knew him. Or maybe just knew of him, as Gray didn’t recognize him. Tensing, Gray stood to shake his hand—and hopefully make the best of the situation. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
Dr. Patrick was still smiling. “You don’t recognize me. I’m Patrick Ballard. We were in the same class at Grandville Middle until my parents moved me to Emanuel in eighth grade.”
Patrick Ballard—the guy he’d once rescued from a trash can. Gray’s muscles relaxed and he widened his smile. “Yeah, man. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”
