Feliz Naughty Dog (The Dogmothers Book 7)

by Roxanne St Claire

  “Sounds like fun.”

  Really? He thought that? “It is. Like tonight, everyone will be together for Christmas Eve dinner, and then we’ll pile into Midnight Mass like the Irish and Greek armies. And…God, I need to shut up.”

  He gave a soft laugh that seemed like it came from deep inside his chest. “No, if I look stunned, it’s just…wow. I don’t have anything like that.”

  “Just your aunt here in Bitter Bark?” she guessed, somehow sensing that it would be very easy to make him turn away again. And she didn’t want that. She could stare into those eyes for the entire day.

  “Watch out,” he said softly, snagging her jacket so she narrowly missed walking right into a cart of phone cases.

  “Yikes,” she muttered, looking ahead, busted for staring at him.

  “Actually, I live with my aunt and my uncle. Well, they’re kind of like Yiayia is to you.”

  “Tangentially related?” As soon as she used the SAT vocab word, she regretted it. Cute girls that he liked wouldn’t say things like tangentially.

  “Actually, no,” he said, not blinking an eye at her word choice. “Not related at all, but very much like family.”

  “Oh, okay. Are they older?”

  “Not really. Fifties.”

  “Then what did you mean when you said grandmas are your comfort zone?”

  He gave her a quick look, something flashing in his eyes. Fear? Hurt? It was gone too quickly to decipher. “Long story,” he said, turning again, this time to stare hard at Bath & Body Works soap displays.

  “So, I wonder if I know your aunt and uncle,” Pru said, finally getting comfortable with just talking to him. “Bitter Bark is a small town.”

  “They moved here a year ago.”

  “And you moved all the way from California to live with them?” She spun through all the possibilities and couldn’t come up with anything but… “Did something happen to your parents?” she asked, trying to soften any horror and brace herself for something like they died.

  “Yeah,” he said on a laugh she totally didn’t expect. “They had a kid they really didn’t want sixteen years ago, split up, and kind of forgot I exist.”

  “Oh…” She didn’t have any idea how to respond to that. “I’m…sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “They’re just not, you know, my favorite people. But the Hernandezes are awesome.” He eyed her, just enough to nudge the butterflies to life. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  God, she hoped not. “You do?”

  “They left me on Christmas, but it’s cool. It was my choice not to go with them. I couldn’t leave Tor in a kennel, and he sure as heck can’t take another flight. The one from LA nearly killed him.”

  “Aww, poor baby.” She patted the dog, then looked up at Lucas. “And that’s not what I was thinking,” she added.

  “Your eyes are pretty much dead giveaways, Pru.”

  He was studying her eyes enough to know her thoughts? An unfamiliar heat curled through her, making her slow her step so she didn’t trip or walk into another kiosk. “Well, if you must know—”

  “I must,” he said, making her laugh.

  “I was thinking it was sad about your parents. My mom is my best friend, and my dad…” She closed her eyes for a second as she thought about Trace Bancroft. “He’s the greatest.”

  “You’re lucky, then.”

  “I know, but I only met him a few years ago,” she admitted.

  “So he’s your stepdad?” he asked.

  “No, he’s my biological father.”

  He threw her a confused look. “And you just met him?”

  She took a breath, almost ready to share her strange family story, but did she trust him? Did she even know him? After a moment, she shrugged and looked away, shifting her attention to Tor, who was pulling on the leash a little harder than he had been, his attention locked on a store just ahead.

  “Oh, the pet store,” Pru said, gesturing to The Animal House. “Should we attempt our first Random Act of Christmas Kindness in there?”

  He looked a little dubious. “You think I should trust Tor…nado?”

  She laughed at the nickname and touched the dog’s long face, which didn’t require her to bend much. His head practically reached Pru’s chest. “Okay, doggo, here’s the deal,” she said. “You behave, and you get a treat.”

  His tail whipped back and forth as he looked up at her with sweet brown eyes. “You know what a treat is?” she asked.

  “He knows what a pretty girl with a kind voice is.”

  Her heart did an unexpected flip at the compliment. “Well, do you think he’ll follow the rules?”

  “I’ll hold him tight. What’s your RACK plan?”

  She had to smile, appreciating that he was into the school project enough to use the nickname. Flipping her backpack around, she unzipped a side pocket. “What you suggested. I’m going to buy a bunch of treats, and then we can take them over to that indoor dog park and give them to little kids to hand to the dogs. Sound kind?”

  “Sounds like a recipe for a lawsuit if one of the dogs bites a kid.”

  She gasped. “I never thought of that! You have a better idea? ’Cause your dog ate all of mine.”

  Laughing, he looked into the store and thought for a moment. “You have money for this?”

  “I have fifty dollars, but I don’t want to spend it all in one store.”

  He nodded. “Let’s give those dog stickers you mentioned to ten kids, each with a dollar to buy a dog treat, or do whatever they want with the money.”

  She thought about that and nodded. “Probably not worth a truckload of points, but we’ll make some kids happy. You want to stay out here with Tor and maybe take some pictures of me for the app?”

  “I don’t have a phone, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. Well, you do the store stuff, then.” She dug into the side pocket of her backpack and grabbed her wallet, taking out a ten.

  “I can get it,” he said, reaching into his back pocket.

  “Next one. I’ve saved money just for this project.” She also gave him the roll of stickers her mother gave to kids who came into her vet office with sick pets. “You’ll just need to get ones from the cashier.”

  “Wow,” he said under his breath. “Smart and generous.”

  She smiled, self-conscious as she handed him a ten-dollar bill. “Just…you know, resourceful.”

  “Take a compliment, Pru.” He took the ten she handed him and playfully used it to brush under her chin. “I don’t throw them out at just anybody.” With a quick smile, he gave her the leash. “Do your dog training magic on Tor. He sure could use it.”

  As he walked away, she tugged the big dog closer, rubbing his head and steadying her breath. “So, Tornado,” she whispered, staring at Lucas’s broad shoulders in the leather jacket, his wayward long hair over the collar, his easy stride of confidence. “Your human is quite the surprise. A very pleasant surprise.”

  He fidgeted a little, his gaze as locked on Lucas as Pru’s was.

  She watched him enter the store and head toward the counter, slowing to look down at something that had a small group gathered around it.

  “Puppies?” Pru guessed, letting the dog lead her a little bit closer. “We can peek, but don’t go too close.”

  Lucas looked out toward her and pointed at whatever was on the floor. “You gotta see this,” he mouthed.

  Oh, and there went the butterflies, out of control at the very slightest connection she seemed to have with this kid. Only it wasn’t slight. Or was she imagining that?

  She was drawn to him like Tor was drawn to the pet store and what she imagined were some very enticing scents. “Easy, boy,” she said, tightening her grip on the leash. “What is it?” she called to Lucas.

  “Puppies.”

  As she’d thought. “Cute?”

  He rolled his eyes like there was no way to describe how cute.

  “Let’s just take a peek, Tor.” She too
k a few steps closer as Lucas went to the counter to get the change. “I love me some puppies.”

  As she got right at the entrance to the store, a few kids stepped away from the puppy bin, giving Pru a direct view into small cage full of five or six puppies of various breeds. A little yellow Lab, a tiny beagle, a Yorkie that could fit in her pocket, and, oh, was that a doxie?

  “Look, Tor! A dachshund like your new friends, Pyggie and Gala.” She was barely aware that she was inching closer until a woman in a red jacket with the store logo gestured to her.

  “Dogs are welcome,” she said. “And he is stunning.”

  “Isn’t he?” she said with a surprising amount of pride. “This is Tor, a greyhound.”

  “Racer?” she asked.

  “I…guess, yeah. He’s not mine.” She glanced at Lucas, watching him talk to the cashier and show him the stickers, no doubt explaining what they were doing, then at the six puppies cuddled behind a small wire fence.

  “Well, bring him in and let him sniff,” the lady said.

  Sniff and…destroy.

  But Tor seemed pretty chill, his laser focus on the puppies, staring hard at the one with long, floppy ears. “Oh, you like the basset, huh? Hound to hound, I guess.”

  He answered by pulling her closer to the small pen, and a few of the people around it automatically made space for the sizable dog. Tor lowered his head, sniffing, smashing his nose to the metal wires of the crate. Well, not exactly a crate, just one of those free-standing circle fences that her aunt Ella used at Bone Appetit to contain customers’ dogs.

  “You should probably be the one gated, Tor,” she murmured, holding tight to his leash.

  But he wasn’t at all jumpy. In fact, he lowered himself to the ground and got nose to nose with the little chestnut and white basset baby, who seemed just as interested in him.

  “Aww!”

  “Look at those two!”

  The people around them fussed, but Tor stayed riveted. Pru looked up and caught Lucas’s eye as he fanned out the dollar bills in one hand and the roll of stickers in the other.

  “Here I go,” he said. “Take pictures so we get credit.”

  She fished out her phone, putting the leash under her sneaker so Tor wouldn’t get away.

  Then Lucas stepped toward a little girl about six years old and said to her mom, “I’m with a local high school doing Random Acts of Christmas Kindness. Can I give a sticker and a dollar to your daughter? She can use it to buy a treat for the dogs in the mall.”

  “Of course!” The woman beamed at him, clearly not immune to the charms of a bad boy with good looks.

  As he offered them to the child, Pru took a picture. Lots of pictures. Couldn’t have enough pictures of Lucas Darling, she decided, turning to follow him to the next child with the camera, keeping her foot on Tor’s leash.

  This time, she tapped the video icon and got the exchange with him explaining what they were doing.

  Dang. He was good at this. He was adorable with the kids and charming with the moms, and every time he looked over at Pru and gave her a thumbs-up or a smile, her heart just…

  Oh crap. She was crushing on the guy so hard. That was not supposed to happen.

  Control the crush, Pru. Control the—

  Tor suddenly stood, snapping her attention back to her first job—which was not to stare lovingly at Lucas Darling and admit she had a crush. Tor had zeroed in on the cashier now, who had pulled out a huge tray of dog treats for the kids to buy.

  “Easy, boy.” She bent over to get the leash, taking her foot off it for one nanosecond, but that was all it took for Tor to launch in the direction of the treats. “No!”

  But nothing had prepared her for how fast that dog was. He leaped toward the counter, both paws up, scattering the kids, some of whom screamed.

  “Tor!” Lucas and Pru both vaulted toward him, but her foot caught the metal gate on the puppy pen, knocking it over as she tumbled straight to the ground. She broke her fall with her backpack, looking up as Tor’s big front paws managed to slam the tray of treats and flip the whole thing, sending them flying like a volcanic eruption of organic peanut butter dog bones all over the store and all over the now un-penned puppies.

  Kids shrieked. Dogs barked. And the lady at the front looked like she wanted to kill somebody. Somebody named Pru.

  In a flash, Lucas had captured Tor, who was chewing God knew how many treats. As Pru scrambled to her feet, she could hear Lucas apologizing to the cashier, but the high-pitched barks of puppies and a few of the customers’ dogs joining in the madness were way louder.

  “Get the puppies!” the woman from the front door hollered, making Pru realize that the gate had lifted high enough for them to scatter. “And you, get out!” she yelled at Pru.

  “I’ll help get the—”

  “Out!” She pointed to the door. “With your boyfriend and your dog!”

  “He’s not—”

  Lucas put his arm at her back, his other hand holding on to the leash to lead a still-chewing Tor. “Come on,” he said. “They want us out of here.”

  “I know, but the—”

  Suddenly, Tor stood at perfect attention.

  “Whoa,” Lucas said. “He wants to run. He has to run.”

  “No.” Pru reached for the leash to add her weight to it.

  Tor pulled, his gaze on something out in the mall. Who knew what could get his attention? Sniffing noisily, he pulled them toward the door, looking one way, then the other, smelling the ground as he went, stopping for the Christmas train and sniffing each car as it rolled by.

  Finally, they managed to get him three stores away, and he walked to a bench, crawled under it, and dropped to the ground.

  “His post-chaos nap,” Pru said, only then catching her breath as she took a seat. “I’m so sorry, Lucas. I thought I had him and…”

  “Don’t sweat it.” He sat on the bench, as spent as the dog. “He is totally out of control.”

  Below them, he snored.

  For a second, they just looked at each other in dismay, then smiles pulled, and they both laughed from the bottom of their bellies.

  “He’s wild,” Pru managed to say. “And then…” She pointed toward the sleeping dog. “This.”

  Still laughing, Lucas shook his head. “I really need some help with him.”

  “I think my dad could help you. Or my uncle Shane.”

  His laughter faded a little bit. “Thanks.”

  “Hey, that was my fault for taking my eye off the ball.”

  He put a hand on hers, his palm so big and warm she almost gasped out loud. “Are you okay? You fell.”

  “Not my most graceful moment.”

  “But you…” He gave her hand a squeeze. “You were awesome.”

  She stared at him for a moment, blinking, her mind blank except for one single thought.

  Don’t make me like you. Don’t make me like you. Don’t make me like you.

  Still holding her hand, he stood, bringing her with him. “We better go find those grannies before they get into more trouble than Tor.”

  Oh snap. Too late. She liked him.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you hungry?” Finnie asked as she and Agnes slipped into plastic chairs at a table that gave them a direct view of Santa. He had two babies on his lap, one screaming, the other pulling his beard, while parents snapped photos. “There’s a Greek place right there.”

  Agnes gave her an are you serious? look, then wrapped Pyggie and Gala’s leashes around the leg of a chair at the next table, which was empty, but the slobs who’d sat there had left all their plates and plastic cups. Pyggie sniffed at the remnants, but knew well enough to settle on the cool tile floor under a chair at that table, so Agnes hooked her pocketbook on the empty chair above him.

  “I know, I know.” Finnie lifted the plastic lid to drop a tea bag in the wildly overpriced hot water from Starbucks. “‘It’s not Greek food if it’s cooked by a pimply-faced teenage boy who doesn’t kno
w souvlaki from tzatziki.’” She somehow managed to lose the brogue when she imitated Agnes, but couldn’t deliver a line with snark to save her sweet life. “Why are you putting your bag on that chair?”

  “In the off chance it gets bussed, I don’t want anyone sitting there.”

  “The dogs can be under our table. ’Tis quite crowded in here, and there aren’t many empty tables.”

  “If someone sits there, it’ll block my view of Aldo,” she admitted. “And I still want to see what he’s doing.”

  “Aye. Wouldn’t want to miss his next hit job…on a blonde.” Finnie grinned. “See what I did there?”

  Agnes leaned in. “You judged,” she said through gritted teeth. “The very thing you’ve been trying to drum out of me since the day we met.”

  Finnie’s little shoulders dropped. “Aye, true.”

  “You think he’s some kind of criminal because he has an Italian last name.”

  “No! I’m telling you my husband knew the man—or knew of him. He was part of a hunting club that Seamus belonged to years ago, and word was…he knew his way around the guns. Maybe a little too well, if you catch my drift.”

  “It was a hunting lodge.” She rolled her eyes.

  “But, oh, the ladies. Rumor was he had a different one every season.”

  “He told me he’s been widowed for more than forty years. Can you blame the man for dating?”

  “Dating women young enough to be his granddaughter?” Finnie tipped her head in the direction of Santa’s Workshop. “Ye heard him with that lassie.”

  “I heard more than you did.” And had seen the phone number exchange. “But I might have misunderstood. We can’t assume he’s all things bad until I get to know him. But I admit, it didn’t look good.” She let out a deep sigh. “I’m wasting my time, aren’t I? There’s no match for the matchmakers.”

  Finnie notched her chin. “Don’t let yer coffee grow cold, lass.” Then she put her hand over Agnes’s, the soft, parchmentlike skin of her palm always a comfort. “Or yer heart. If it’s love you want, then we’ll find it for you.”

  “I don’t expect anything like what we’ve managed to find for our grandchildren. Just a bit of the…magic. You know…the feeling? The roller coaster. The thrill.”