Rhett (Signature Sweethearts)

by Kelsie Rae

“So . . . can I meet him?” Her eyes light up at the prospect.

  I walk the five steps between our apartments and open the door to let the giant furball bound out into the hallway. His tongue lolls out the side of his mouth and makes him look like he’s the happiest damn dog on the planet.

  Indie drops to her knees and stretches her arms wide as she gives the mammoth dog a giant bear hug that would make any man jealous.

  “Aren’t you the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!” she coos lovingly. Her voice drips with unabashed affection. “You need a bath, mister!” she adds, as her fingers tangle in his matted fur.

  The big guy licks her cheek in reply, causing Indie to giggle happily.

  “He is the cutest thing ever!” she gushes before looking up at me.

  I nod in agreement, irrationally happy that they’re getting along so well.

  “But he really does need a bath.” Her button nose scrunches a bit like she got a whiff of the stench clinging to his fur.

  “I know. I just don’t know how he’ll handle it, and I’m not sure I can manhandle him into the tub without getting drenched too.”

  She laughs lightly as the wheels turn in her head. “Want help?”

  “Really?” It was my hope all along that she’d volunteer to help me, because I honestly don’t want to see who would win that battle . . . the dog or me.

  “Yeah,” she answers simply. “I love dogs and have been dying to have one for years, but Tony is allergic. I’d love to help and live vicariously through you, if you’re okay with it?” Her pleading eyes could rival any puppy’s, and I can’t contain my gruff laughter.

  “Done. I’ll hold him while you shampoo.”

  “Deal. I think I have some baby shampoo that I bought for my friend but haven’t given it to her yet. We can use it now, and I’ll replace it later. We can go to the pet store to pick up a few supplies after we get him scanned for a chip. You don’t want to spend a ton of money if you don’t even get to keep him.” She tosses the last sentence over her shoulder as she disappears into her apartment. I assume she’s going to go search for the baby shampoo and will be back in a minute.

  I turn to the furball sitting at my feet. “All right, buddy. Let’s go get the water started, okay?” His tail thumps against the floor rhythmically while his big brown eyes look up at me adoringly.

  I might be a pretty tough guy, but this dog could melt even the coldest of hearts.

  My fingers rub the top of his head until Indie emerges from her apartment then I straighten and lead her and the dog into mine. It’s obvious she’s excited, and I’m glad I can make her happy, even if it’s only for a few minutes.

  We walk to the bathroom with the big guy trailing behind us.

  Turning on the faucet, I let the water heat before picking up the dog and setting him in the bath. His muscles are tense, and his stance is rigid. Clearly, he doesn’t like the water.

  Indie slips off her socks before sitting on the side of the tub expectantly. The dog’s round eyes watch her warily as the water trickles out of the faucet.

  “It’s gonna be all right, mister. We’re gonna get you all taken care of, okay?” Indie’s soothing tone seems to calm him a little. She squeezes the shampoo straight into his matted hair and starts to gently scrub. By some miracle, he doesn’t back away from her. Over and over again, she rubs the soap through his fur. The water gets cloudy as the dirty suds drip into the water, swirling into a grayish opaque color.

  “You seem like you’ve done this a time or two,” I say, watching her collect water from the faucet with a cup before dumping it over his wet fur. Every move is deliberate. I envy her confidence.

  “Yeah, I had a Golden Retriever when I was little, and one of my jobs was to wash him every month. The first few times, I ended up wetter than the dog, but after a while, I got the hang of it.” She laughs and shakes her head at the memory.

  “I can tell. You’re practically an expert. The only dog I’ve ever had was a Yorkie named Bob. If he ever did something I didn’t like, I’d just pick him up and make him stop. I’m pretty sure he thought he was a human from day one. It used to drive my mom nuts. No matter how many times we threw him off the couch, he’d still jump right back up. After months of trying, she finally gave up and let him sit next to us. He’d even watch television and growl at the animals on the screen.”

  She’s grinning in amusement. “I’m sorry, what did you name your dog?”

  Laughing, I reply, “Bob.”

  She snorts and shakes her head good-naturedly. “Who names their dog Bob?”

  I shrug and give her a crooked grin. My only real defense is that I was five when I named him.

  Sitting on the closed toilet seat, I lean on the tub’s ledge. It looks like Indie doesn’t even need my help.

  She returns my easy smile, obviously as entertained by the memories of my childhood pet as I am.

  Unfortunately, it’s the opening the dog has been waiting for because as soon as Indie turns to look at me, he makes his escape and jumps over the bath’s ledge, knocking Indie over in return.

  His impromptu escape causes her to fall into the dirty water. She squeals in surprise as the water soaks her from head to toe. Her mouth is open wide in surprise then transforms into hysterical laughter. I catch him before he can get out of the bathroom but end up drenched for my efforts. Better me than my whole apartment.

  “Oh my gosh!!” she huffs while lying in the soapy water. It seems she’s frozen from shock. I’d help her get up, but I’m currently holding a sopping wet, hundred pound dog in my arms.

  I can’t contain my laughter as I assess the ridiculousness of our situation. Tears are streaming down Indie’s cheeks while she attempts to get ahold of herself. But it doesn’t work. She continues lying in the tub, clutching her stomach in laughter.

  Her hysterics bounce off the surrounding tile. The tinkling sound reminds me of wind chimes in the summer. In an instant, I decide it’s one of my favorite sounds in the world and make it my mission to hear it more often.

  “I cannot believe your dog just gave me a bath!” she cries through panting breaths.

  “Neither can I,” I agree. Trying to be a gentleman, I attempt to not stare at the now-translucent top that Indie’s wearing. The light cotton sticks to her like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination.

  Somehow, I rearrange the giant ball of fur in my arms, so my right hand is free. I offer it to the dripping girl in my tub. She takes it willingly.

  Her slippery, wet hands do nothing to lessen the silkiness of her skin, but I try not to notice.

  It doesn’t work.

  I carefully pull her up until she’s standing. Afterward, I put the dog back in the tub while keeping my hand firmly planted on his neck. My touch silently reminds him that I’m still here. He won’t get away with a move like that again.

  Even if it was pretty funny.

  Indie clumsily steps out of the bath as the water drips off her in rivulets.

  Once her feet are firmly planted on the bathroom tile, I grab a black towel off the hook and hand it to her. “Here.”

  Even though the water was warm, she’s shaking like a leaf and takes it willingly.

  “Thanks.” Indie wraps the towel around her shoulders before peeking up at me with a grateful look. Our bodies are almost chest to chest due to the size of the tiny bathroom.

  If she were any other woman, I might close the inches between us and find out what her lips taste like. But I don’t want to be a rebound. I want her to be over Anthony before she starts anything with me.

  Even though I’m dying from our close proximity.

  Her breathing is shallow as her gaze drops to my lips.

  So. Close.

  “I should uh . . . probably go change.” She takes a step to the door when I stop her escape with a few smooth words.

  “We still need to go to the store to pick up some supplies.”

  I need her closer. I’m not ready fo
r her to leave yet. I want to stay in this little dream world where I can pretend she’s mine.

  She glances over my shoulder with a soft smile that hits me square in the chest.

  Damn it. She’s beautiful.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  And with that, she’s gone.

  I finish up the dog’s bath. Conflicting thoughts swirl through my head just like the dirty water swirls down the drain.

  How long do I have to wait before I can make a move?

  Chapter 13

  Indie

  I’m sopping wet as I enter my apartment in a hurry, my stomach warming with anticipation. I wasn’t planning on Rhett knocking on my door when I chose my loungewear for the evening, but it wasn’t hard to tell that he appreciated my lack of clothing a little too much.

  Or maybe it’s just my imagination.

  He knows I’m single, and he hasn’t made a move. That has to mean he isn’t interested, right? I mean, what’s he waiting for?

  I haven’t harbored any romantic feelings toward Tony in years. We’ve been living like roommates for as long as I can remember, so I don’t really feel like I recently got out of a relationship. I feel like I just lost a friend. That’s it.

  I thought I made that pretty clear to Rhett, but maybe my communication skills are kind of crappy?

  I strip out of my clothes, pulling on a fresh lavender T-shirt and skinny jeans before throwing my hair into a messy bun. Noticing my raccoon eyes in the mirror, I wipe away the non-waterproof mascara then head back over to Rhett’s.

  After knocking, I anxiously wait for him to answer. When his door swings open, I nearly swallow my tongue.

  Hot damn.

  Rhett’s hair is still damp from his shower, and he smells like the forest after a cool rain. Slowly, I lean forward and take a deep breath, savoring his scent before catching myself sniffing my neighbor.

  Smooth, Indie. Real smooth.

  Rhett smirks before shaking his head as his eyes shine with amusement.

  “You’re something else, Indie. You ready to get going?”

  “Yup!” I follow Rhett down the hallway with his big fluffy dog padding behind him. He looks so much better after his bath, and I kind of wish I had taken one too. They’re both looking dapper and all, while I’m pretty sure I still smell like wet dog.

  I’m shaken from my thoughts when I investigate the situation in front of me.

  “Uh . . . does he need a leash? What if he runs away?”

  Rhett shrugs casually with his hands in his front pockets, reminding me of a little boy. The thought makes me smile.

  “I dunno. He followed me here from the park, so I think he can handle a few more blocks to the vet, don’t you?”

  I mimic his shrug because he’s probably right, and we head to the clinic.

  Just like Rhett predicted, the big guy doesn’t leave his side the entire way.

  Everything goes by without a hitch, confirming Rhett’s suspicion that the dog doesn’t have an owner, and the likelihood of them finding one is pretty slim.

  Rhett can hardly contain his boyish grin as the vet delivers the news.

  Damn, he’s cute when he’s excited.

  Afterward, we head to the pet supply shop, which is conveniently located next door.

  I’ve never laughed so hard in my life as we pick out dog food, a bed, treats, chew sticks, a leash, and a bright red collar that gets lost in the dog’s long hair within seconds of putting it on.

  “You’re spoiling him an awful lot for a guy who isn’t positive he’ll be keeping him,” I tease.

  Rhett seems completely unrepentant about his shopping spree. “Yeah, but this way, even if they find the owner, which, like the vet said is pretty slim, he’ll have all the supplies he needs to take care of the big guy the way he deserves.”

  I sigh at his thoughtfulness, loving how much he cares about an animal that he only met a few hours ago.

  “That’s pretty considerate of you.”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  A blush touches my cheeks.

  It’s a big deal to me.

  I went home right after the vet appointment. I didn’t want to feel like I was intruding or anything. Plus, I needed to get to bed. Those muffins won’t bake themselves!

  My next day at the bakery goes by in a blur, and I stop at the pet store on my way home. I don’t want to be a burden, but I also want to see how their first night went. I’ve always wanted a dog, but since Tony was allergic, I didn’t push.

  Now it doesn’t matter.

  It’s such a surreal feeling. I’ve been a we for over a decade. Going back to a me is going to take some getting used to.

  Yes, there’s an appeal to being on my own, but I always wanted to share my life with someone. To talk about my day. To have someone carry the load with me. My struggles. My pain.

  I rap my knuckles against Rhett’s door, blown away by the terrible excuse I came up with for coming over unannounced.

  I cannot believe I’m doing this. Again.

  First a cronut? Now a bag of treats for his dog?

  I roll my eyes at myself. Subtle, Indie. Really subtle.

  Rhett answers with a kind smile. “I didn’t think I would see you again so soon.” His brows are slightly furrowed, showing his surprise at my impromptu visit.

  Awkwardly, I hand over a bag of dog treats as I shift from one foot to the other. “Hi. I just wanted to come see how your new dog’s first night went. I haven’t had a dog since I was little, but I remember that the first few days could be rough, ya know? It’s a big adjustment for both of you, so I thought I’d check in.” By some miracle, I stop myself from rambling any further.

  Rhett opens the door a little more, granting me access to his apartment. Initially, I had assumed his movement was to invite me inside, but I quickly realize it’s to let someone out.

  “As you can see, he’s doing great!” Rhett offers.

  His big, fluffy dog bounds toward me, jumping up and attacking me with slobbery kisses like we’ve been best friends forever.

  Rhett intervenes, reprimanding his new pet with a stern voice. “Down, boy. You can’t just pounce on people, buddy.”

  I laugh good-naturedly before dropping to my knees and rubbing the dog behind his ears.

  “Rhett’s probably right, handsome,” I agree, talking to the furball in front of me. “If I were a Girl Scout selling cookies, I’d probably lose my Thin Mints from fright.”

  He licks my chin, and I shove his face away while laughing like a little kid.

  “Those treats are supposed to help with bad breath, by the way. I suggest you open them up right now,” I add, addressing Rhett, who’s busy watching me and his dog play. I plop onto my butt in the hallway as the big ball of fur continues to wag his tail excitedly.

  “I’ll definitely do that. Did you find anything for gas too?”

  My mouth is open wide from grinning, and I scrunch up my nose at his question.

  “Ew. That is so gross!” I squeal. He joins in my laughter while leaning against the doorjamb. Like he’s getting comfortable to stay for a little while, instead of rushing my impromptu visit in order to get back to whatever he was doing before I knocked on his door.

  I don’t think he’s ready for our conversation to end. And if I’m being honest, neither am I.

  “So, what’d you name him?”

  He lets out a sigh of defeat, gripping the back of his neck and eyeing the giant dog that’s practically sitting on my lap.

  “I haven’t named him yet. Someone told me that a name like Bob doesn’t cut it.” He narrows his eyes at me playfully.

  “Oops.” I grimace.

  “Ever since then, I’ve struggled to come up with something unique. Something that fits him.”

  He joins me on the floor and pats the dog’s side.

  I don’t know why we don’t go into his apartment, but I’m okay with it. It’s a little unconventional. Just like us.

  Licking my l
ips, I turn my attention back to Rhett’s new buddy. “Let’s see . . . you know him better than I do. What’s he like?”

  “Well . . . he’s loyal as hell. Doesn’t leave my side. Smart. Patient. Friendly.” He eyes the dog with pure affection. “He’s pretty much the perfect dog, if I’m being honest.”

  I smile softly at his sweet response. “That’s a pretty tall order.”

  “Yeah, but somehow he pulls it off. I wasn’t planning on getting a dog, but sometimes the best things in life come at the most inconvenient times.” His dark eyes dart to mine for the briefest of seconds, but they speak loud and clear. I tuck my hair behind my ear as my cheeks heat.

  Right now is a very inconvenient time for something great to be knocking on my door.

  Literally.

  “I can imagine,” I murmur while trying to ignore the way my fingers tremble as they run through the dog’s white hair. “Um . . . you could always name him Maximus. I’m pretty sure it means greatest or something like that. And he is pretty great.”

  “That isn’t bad.” Rhett pauses, contemplating his options. “But I feel like everyone names their dog Maximus. Let’s see what else you’ve got.”

  I concede to his argument while pulling out my cell from the back pocket of my jean shorts and pull up Google.

  “That’s a very valid point. Let’s take a look.”

  We spend the next hour laughing and talking about the best and worst dog names on the planet before I find a solid option.

  “How about Titus? It means pleasing, and have you seen that face? Pretty sure your new dog worships the ground you walk on and would do anything to please you.”

  Rhett eyes the big mop of fur lounging on our laps. We’re sitting side by side with our backs against the wall for support, and Rhett’s dog lays along the both of us like a giant blanket.

  “But what would I call him for short?” he asks. “I can’t call him Titty.” His face morphs to one of utter disgust, and I burst out laughing.

  “You don’t have to call him Titty! That’s terrible on so many levels!”

  “I know! That’s what I meant! What do I call him for short?” he says, exasperated.