No one in our town was surprised when Jensen and Tatyana got back together and married each other fresh out of university. Hell, I even went to their wedding, and no, I didnotsecretly wish it was me standing up there with him. Nope. Not even a little.
Okay, maybe just once or twice.
Fast forward a few years to when Jensen and Tatyana’s marriage ended pretty spectacularly this past winter, when she announced she had fallen in love with her personal trainer and wanted a divorce.
I don’t blame Jensen for wanting to get away from everything and everyone that reminds him of his marriage and the life he had. So when he came to Vancouver Island for a visit in the spring and told me he wanted to move to Westport, what else could I do but offer myself up as temporary roommate and relocation assistant?
We’ve never lived together, but it shouldn’t be a problem. We get along great, and his dog, Oliver, is easily my favourite animal.
I just can’t let Mila meet him.
Ever.
Chapter two
Jensen
“Not the front seat, Ollie, come on, man!” I reach in and grab his collar, tugging on it to encourage him to get out. After giving me what can only be described as a withering glare, my lab reluctantly hops out of the front seat of my truck and walks oh so slowly around to the open back door. “Take your time, bud, not like we have a ferry to catch or anything.” I close the door on him and make my way back to the driver’s side. “Man’s best friend? More like man’s biggest pain in the ass,” I mutter under my breath, but I don’t mean it, and Oliver knows it, the damn dog. Because as soon as I’m seated, he puts his nose down on the center console and pushes it against my elbow. “Yeah, yeah, good boy.” I pet his head affectionately. The truth is, without Oliver, life would be boring and quiet. For four years he’s been my sidekick — I even had him certified as a therapy dog so he could come to work with me at the middle school. It’s amazing how easily preteens will set aside their issues, open up, and try new things when they’ve got a cuddly dog at their side.
The drive to the ferry terminal is traffic free, thank fuck, and we make it for our reservation. My ex-wife hated my deep-seated need to be early for everything, calling me a control freak and uptight more than once. That’s not the case, I just have a healthy respect for schedules and appreciate it when others do, too. Our frustration over stupid things like that should have been a minor inconvenience, at most. But when it was layered on top of so many other issues, well, let’s just say finding out she was in love with Ivan, her personal trainer, it was more of a relief than it should have been. I was just happy she didn’t fight me on custody of Oliver in the divorce.
Yes, I offered a custody agreement to her, but she signed away her rights to him with nothing more than a roll of her eyes.
What can I say, I’m a dog dad through and through.
Once we’re on the ferry, I let Oliver come up and sit in the front with me. Lifting the center console, he lays down on the bench seat with a huff and rests his head on my lap. I open up my phone and flip through the depressing news headlines quickly. God, when will this world get its shit together…just as I go to start a new round of Candy Crush, my phone rings with a FaceTime call from Kelly. Instantly my lips turn up in a smile.
“If you’re calling to tell me you’ve changed your mind, it’s too damn late. We’re on the ferry,” I say, half teasingly. The other half of me can’t stop worrying that I’ve asked too much of my friend. After all, what woman willingly puts up with her newly divorced friend and his dog for an undisclosed amount of time? Saint Kelly, that’s who. When I determined I’d need a home base while I apartment hunt, she didn’t hesitate to offer her spare bedroom. We’ve never lived together. Hell, we’ve never even spent the night in the same house before. So this could be interesting.
What if she’s one of those annoying people that never shuts off the light when she leaves a room? Or leaves her dirty dishes in the sink for days? What if she can’t stand the smell of my body wash, or if I forget to put the seat down on the toilet?
This could ruin our friendship forever. Or, I could be majorly overreacting. Yeah, it’s probably the latter.
“Shut up, J, I have a very important question.”
I straighten in my seat, Ollie lifting his head in question. “What’s up?”
“Does Oliver like beef or chicken treats better?” She holds up two bags with her other hand, and I clue in to the fact that she’s at a pet store. As if the shelves behind her didn’t give it away…
“Seriously, Kell?” I arch an eyebrow at her. “He’s a dog, he likes food.”
“Jensen, come on! I want him to settle in and be comfortable at my house. You know what, forget it, I’ll buy both. Now, on to toys. Does he like to play tug of war or fetch better?”
“Uh,” I say, my gaze dropping down to my dog, who’s currently snoring on my lap, my mind blank. Something about the fact that Kelly is so concerned with mydog’swell-being hits me in a weird way. Tatyana liked Oliver well enough, but it was clear from the outset that he was my dog, not hers. Not even ours. “He likes both.”
“Okay, I’ll get both. Does he need a new bed?”
“No, he does not. Kelly, listen to me carefully.” I put on as serious a face as I can. “Buy the treats, fuck, buy a toy, if you insist. But then, walk out of the pet store. Ollie doesn’t need anything. He’s fine, I swear.”
Kelly pouts and I hide my smirk.
“Fine. But if Oliver isn’t happy at Auntie Kelly’s house, then it’s your fault.”
“Auntie Kelly?” My grin sneaks past my lips, and soon Kelly’s shaking her head and laughing as well.
“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’m a weirdo. I just want him to like staying at my house.”
“He’s a dog, Kelly, he’ll be fine as long as he’s fed,” I reassure her, pointing the phone down at Ollie, who’s still passed out on the seat beside me. “Now leave the pet store, go home, and enjoy your last few hours without dog fur everywhere.”
