Head Over Paws

by Debbie Burns

“What’s the square footage?” he asked Ava.

  “Just over two thousand square feet. Yun said your current place is a little under thirteen hundred?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There are two rooms behind this one that could be used for appointments, and another two in back that could be converted into pre-op and op rooms,” Yun said.

  About ready to pace the room in excitement, Gabe remembered he’d been tasked with coming across as skeptical, so he folded his arms over his chest instead. “What are your thoughts about all this space up front?”

  “It’s a lot of space for a waiting room and reception area,” Yun agreed, “but we could build out another two appointment rooms along the side here. Three even, if we keep them on the small side.”

  “Yeah, or we could keep it to two and save room to separate out the dogs and cats as they’re waiting.”

  Noticing Yun was starting to glow with excitement, he shot her a look. Mr. Bouchard wasn’t just listening as he hung behind the counters, seemingly doing inventory of his stock. He kept throwing suspicious glances in their direction. “Just keep in mind, all that costs money,” Gabe added. “Might not be feasible to do all that work when the place you looked at yesterday wouldn’t require half the up-front investment.”

  As if she couldn’t decipher whether or not he was bluffing, Yun frowned, her eyebrows knotting into peaks. “I swear, Gabe, sometimes you forget to see the possibilities.”

  “I see possibilities; this place is a diamond in the rough. The question is how much are you willing to spend to get it into the shape that would work for us?”

  Suddenly Yun seemed to remember the role with which he’d been charged and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll put some comparison charts together tonight.”

  Across the way, Mr. Bouchard didn’t seem to like his store being called a diamond in the rough. He scoffed loudly, then shuffled his paperwork, mumbling something under his breath. All Gabe caught of it was “You can never count on the boy when you need him.”

  Since he didn’t seem to be directing it their way, Gabe opted to ignore it. He headed over to Olivia, who was looking out one of the big side windows at the line of trees that separated this property from the shelter. He could just make out the building through some of the thinner spots in the cedars, hickories, and overgrown honeysuckle bushes.

  He closed a hand over her back. “You okay?” Rather than looking at him, she dropped her gaze toward the floor, clueing him in for the second time tonight that something was wrong.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I just have a little headache, that’s all.” After closing her eyes for the space of a few heartbeats, she opened them, and her shoulders dropped an inch or two. “This place is great,” she whispered. “Almost too good to be true.”

  He cupped one hand over the side of her face. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it in a little bit. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.” A flood of moisture seemed to wash over her eyes but not enough for tears to well up. “That sounds good.”

  “You know what else? It’s not the only thing that’s almost too good to be true.”

  His words seemed to cut through her. He locked a hand around her elbow, but with her sister approaching, heels clicking on the hardwood, Olivia gave a little shake of her head and pasted on a bigger smile that for the second time in a few minutes didn’t reach her eyes.

  “You two want to check out the back rooms? Or have you seen enough?” Ava asked in a tone that seemed to say she’d picked up on Gabe’s quasi disappointment.

  Seeing in his peripheral vision that Mr. Bouchard was craning his head in their direction, Gabe shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to take a look.”

  Locking Olivia’s hand in his, he fell into step behind Ava to check out the rest of the place, even though he knew he already agreed with Yun. He was just as sold on it as she was. If they could make this place work financially, buying it and going into business with her would be the best business decision he could make.

  Chapter 25

  By the time they’d made it back to the shelter’s parking lot, it was just after six and the lot was empty aside from their cars. Olivia climbed into the passenger seat of Gabe’s truck, buckled her seat belt, and tucked her hands under her thighs.

  A thousand thoughts swam in her head, some of them wanting to race out her throat more than others. Knowing most of them would lead to having to tell Gabe she’d lost her best hope of a teaching job for next year, she swallowed all of them back and let him scroll through on his phone as he searched for a nearby place to eat.

  “What are you in the mood for?” He rubbed two knuckles along the ridge of his chin as he scanned through his choices.

  “Some place outside. It’s a perfect night.”

  He was quiet a minute or two, then said, “Got it! Big Sky Café. Locally sourced. Sustainable. Great patio. And not only is it less than a mile from here, it’s dog friendly.”

  “Sounds perfect. You want to go back to your place and grab Samson?”

  “Ah, no. He’ll be good till we get back. I was thinking maybe what you need right now more than anything is a breakout.” He arched an eyebrow, the playful, boyish look in his eyes immediately melting some of her sorrow away.

  Olivia bit her lip to keep from laughing as the arched eyebrow morphed into a waggling one. “You’re going to have to explain yourself. Because right now I’m having dine-and-dash visions, only I know that’s so not you.”

  He grinned. “Not us. Your dog.”

  “Morgan?”

  “Is there another?”

  Olivia scoped the empty lot. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s after hours. I don’t think we could bring him even if they allowed that sort of thing, which I’m not entirely sure they do.”

  “I’ll text Megan and let her know.”

  “Don’t you think everything’s all locked up?”

  He slipped his keys from his jeans pocket. “I don’t have eight keys on here for nothing. As their vet, I’ve been granted twenty-four-hour access to this place.”

  Olivia stayed quiet a few seconds, processing this. “I so want to bring him, but you may have more faith in the training I’ve put in him than is deserved. He only sits for a couple seconds at a time, and when he’s excited, he pulls up a storm even in a no-pull harness. And I’m sure he won’t be one of those dogs with table manners.”

  Gabe shrugged. “Gotta start somewhere. What do you say?”

  “You don’t think Megan will care?” she asked before realizing he was already typing out a text.

  “I doubt it. She knows you’re giving serious thought to adopting him.”

  Olivia unbuckled and hopped out of the truck. “I hope you didn’t put it like that to her,” she said, shutting the door. “I’d adopt him in a heartbeat if I had a place to keep him.” And a job. Don’t forget about that.

  The hopeful mood that had begun to build deflated a touch. Determined not to let it ruin what was turning out to be a special night, she did her best to tamp down her fears.

  “That’s what I meant. And she’s met you. She knows.”

  “Are you saying my love for him is written all over my face?”

  “That’s a hard yes,” he said, jiggling open the door with his key. He waved her in as he opened the door. “Extraordinary women first.”

  She laughed and pressed a kiss onto his cheek as she stepped inside. When the short kiss wasn’t enough to satisfy her, she planted another on his lips but let it linger a touch longer. “Thank you for this.”

  “You’d better watch it,” he said, pulling her close after he let the door fall shut behind him, “or you’ll get an entirely different hard yes.”

  “Mmm…enticing, and we are alone.” She gave him another kiss, pressing his mouth open with hers and slipping her hands low around his hips.

  He ground agains
t her, his growing bulge pressing into her low belly. After drawing out the kiss enough to superheat her blood, he pulled away, closing both hands over the sides of her head. “And here I thought you were sad about something.”

  She blinked and stepped back, trying to slip back into armor that had shed itself with that kiss.

  “I see I wasn’t wrong. Want to tell me about it?”

  She shook her head. “Not tonight. It’s such a good night for you. I just… I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  His mouth clamped tight, the muscles along his jaw growing rigid and defined. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll honor that. But I’m here for you, Olivia. If there’s something I can do, then let me do it.”

  “There’s one thing you can do.” Her lips found his again, and she kissed him harder than she’d ever kissed him before, that same need she’d experienced in his truck a few weeks ago waking like a long-slumbering giant when it hadn’t even been a full day since their bodies had joined together.

  She made quick work of the button of his jeans and was slipping one hand into his pants when Trina hopped up onto the closest counter, meowing to get their attention and reminding Olivia they were in the main room of the very shelter where she volunteered.

  She scanned through a list of places in here where they’d have a bit more privacy. She gave a second or two of serious thought to the couch in the break room but changed her mind and pulled him toward the staff bathroom instead. The fact was, she wasn’t in the space for quiet and contemplative lovemaking. She wanted him standing, and she wanted it hard enough there’d be hope of washing her thoughts and insecurities away.

  He was going into business with his best friend right next to this wonderful place. How very close to perfect. If only she had a job to keep herself up here in this new and exciting city. If only there was a way to remain a part of it.

  The bathroom was small but clean and cozy enough to serve her needs. He trailed inside after her, and she did her best to ignore the blend of skepticism and intrigue written on his face. She locked the door, shutting out Trina and Chance, who’d just gotten up from his bed, too, and anyone who might swing back by for some unknown reason.

  Olivia didn’t check, but she was willing to bet the look of skepticism fell away as soon as she sank onto her heels, making deliberate, exaggerated work of unbuttoning his jeans and then savoring him long enough to bring him to the edge of climax. When she knew he was almost there by the saltiness washing over her tongue, she pulled away and tugged out of one leg of her jeans, leaving the other hooked around her ankle.

  He wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs and lifted her, and she locked her legs around his hips. She was thankful when he was able to ride it out long enough to enable her to find a release that matched his. He pressed her against the door, drawing it out through rhythm as the first unexpected tears slid down her face.

  Before she knew it, she’d wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and was sobbing into the crook of it even while he was still inside her.

  Freeing one hand, he swept back her hair and brushed his lips over her wet tears. “Whatever it is, we’ve got this. Whatever it is. You’ll never be able to convince me otherwise, because I love you, Olivia Graham. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. And I’m damn sure that’s all that matters.”

  She wanted to say it back, wanted to tell him she’d felt the same way for a while now. Almost from the very beginning. But the fears and sorrow swelling inside her locked her throat too tight for words. Instead, her tears colored his shirt like drops of wet paint. So many that she feared the release of them might sweep her away.

  * * *

  The color of the sky in the west had Gabe wishing for a view not blocked by buildings and tall trees. From what he could see of it, the western sky was a wash of brilliant oranges and soft reds. He remembered camping with his family as a kid of about nine or ten in Grand Canyon National Park, watching the sun sink below the horizon from the South Rim. He’d been bored and fidgety and not interested in hanging around for half an hour to see the sunset. But even at that age, his hands sore from spinning in circles around the metal railing as he waited, there was a moment when the sun finally dipped below the horizon and everything got quiet—and he felt a sense of awe wash over him he’d never experienced before.

  Wisps of that same feeling had been returning these last few weeks; it had just taken this sunset for him to make the connection. It rushed him when he least expected it—threatening to sweep him away the same way the river had. It was strongest in the quiet moments after making love when the intense rush of an orgasm was fading and what remained was a quiet awareness that he was one piece of something bigger than he could comprehend.

  Would she believe him if he told her how certain he was that everything in his life had been leading him to right here, right now—to this career, to that store next to the shelter, to her?

  The server approached, carrying their entrees on a tray, and Morgan, who’d been showing the first hint of relaxing, bolted to all fours and let out a single woof.

  He wasn’t the only dog on the patio that was crowded with diners, but he was the biggest and clearly the most out of place. Thankfully, they’d been able to snag one of the tables in the corner where it was quieter. Even so, Morgan had drawn his fair share of attention with his powerful build, big ears, striking coloring, and sable eyes.

  The two other dogs were a Maltese who never left its owner’s lap and a lively Boston terrier named Gus two tables away who had a—thankfully—broken squeaky toy that provided him seemingly endless amusement once he determined that Morgan was not going to come over to play.

  The server approached with their food and, seeing that Olivia was attempting to get Morgan’s attention and asking him to sit at attention, paused a few feet away. Morgan eventually realized he was being beckoned by the one human he had clear and continuing interest in. He stopped huffing at the server and sank to his haunches, looking between Olivia’s closed fist indicating “sit” and the hand at her side that he sensed held a treat.

  “Cute dog,” the server said as she headed around the table to drop off the entrees on the opposite side where she wouldn’t be as big of a distraction. “Hound?”

  “German shorthaired pointer.” Knowing Olivia was still a bit nasal-sounding from the tears she’d shed in the shelter and wasn’t in the mood to bring attention to it, Gabe answered for her.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Hounds use scent to hunt and typically have even longer ears. Pointers use scent, too, but they’re also sight dogs. Once they hone in on something, they’re better at posturing, so they make good gun dogs.”

  “Huh. Who knew?” the server replied, pursing her lips. “Enjoy your dinners, and unless I can get you something now, just, ah, posture if you need me.”

  Once she headed back inside, Olivia rewarded Morgan with the treat and an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “Good boy!”

  Head and back as tall as the table, Morgan finished gobbling up the treat and attempted to shove his head over the side, hoping for a bite of Olivia’s locally raised trout.

  Whoever had owned him had clearly worked with him enough for the dog to have learned some basic boundaries, or he wouldn’t have backed off so easily when Olivia gave him a firm “No.”

  When he retreated, Olivia stuck out her lower lip. “Why is it that establishing boundaries feels so harsh?”

  “If it helps, I don’t think they process authority that way. They’re pack animals and naturally obey alphas. It’s good that he’s listening to you as easily as he is.”

  Olivia slipped a travel-size bottle of hand sanitizer back into her purse after offering Gabe some. “That makes sense, and I get it. I don’t want him swiping food off the table when I’m not in the room.” As if realizing the permanency of her words, she gave a light shake of her
head. “Or anyone’s table, I guess.”

  Her words stirred up Gabe’s desire to know what was bothering her tonight. He’d been patient, hoping she’d confide in him when her emotions ebbed along with her tears. Thanks to that wash of tears, she was makeup-free and as enchanting as ever, just in a more vulnerable way.

  “How’s the trout?”

  She nodded, following a bite with a sip of water. “Great. What about the salmon?”

  “Perfect. I was tempted to go with that blue cheese burger, but I have no regrets.”

  “Neither do your arteries,” she said, laughing. “You’re really doing good getting a handle on that cheeseburger addiction.”

  “Odds were I had to grow up sometime.” After chasing down another bite with a swallow of wine, he took a risk and added, “The truth is, with you in my life, it’s much easier to think long-term.”

  She froze with her fork hovering over a roasted grape tomato. For several seconds she stayed frozen, then she dropped her fork and sat back, refolding the napkin in her lap. “I—I found out today there aren’t going to be any open positions I can apply for next year. Not at my school. And so far, I’ve gotten zero interview requests from the positions I applied for around here.” Her voice pitched midway through, but she paused to clear her throat and got control of it again.

  Gabe set his fork down and leaned forward. He wanted to tell her it was okay but checked himself. It clearly wasn’t okay to her. Olivia lit up when she talked about teaching, about the small but essential breakthrough moments she’d had with her students, the moments that got them better tuned in to her lessons and caring about their performance in her class.

  “I’m sorry,” he said instead. “That’s…tough, I’m sure. Thank you for telling me.”

  “Gabe, if I don’t get a job next year…”

  He waited for her to finish, but she didn’t. He wanted to tell her it would be okay, but that wasn’t his to say.

  Clearly fighting back a fresh wave of tears, she shook it off and picked up her fork again. A foot away, Morgan sat on his haunches, watching her with keen interest.