Ugh. This wasn’t what she wanted. But in a month, he’d leave in that black Mustang and she’d be here, living the same old life, just like the one she’d had before he’d come back. Except she honestly didn’t think she could do that. His return had changed something in the air, changed her, and when he was gone, there was no way in hell she was going on bad date after bad date to find her life partner and the father of the child she wanted so badly.
“I should just devote my life to dogs,” she said to Dempsey, running her hand over the fur on the dog’s back and sides. She got a lick on the hand for that. As usual, Dempsey seemed to know when she needed comfort and curled up beside her on the couch, her head on Claire’s thigh. “Dogs are not confusing like certain tall, dark and very good-looking humans.”
On Saturday morning, Claire woke up early to head over to Furever Paws for the weekend adoption event. She would be walking Dempsey around the shelter with an Adopt Me! banner draped over her back. These events brought a lot of visitors to the property, so the staff and volunteers typically walked a few dogs around that they wanted to highlight. The other dogs were kept in their kennels, because the large number of people, with their strange smells and grabbing hands, could be stressful for them.
“Hi, Claire,” Bunny said, putting the banner over Cutie Pie, the shepherd mix she’d been fostering.
Claire smiled at Bunny. “Everything set for the event?”
Bunny nodded, surveying Cutie Pie and grabbing a red bandanna from the display wall. She tied it around the dog’s neck. “There. Now you’re ready for your close-up.” She straightened and glanced around, then leaned close to Claire. “Isn’t Matt with you?”
Claire raised an eyebrow. “Matt is most definitely not with me. Why would he be?”
Bunny headed over to the desk where two volunteers were stacking adoption applications, foster applications, and information packets. “He called last night and asked if we could use some extra help for the adoption event. I said of course.”
Why was Matt so damn helpful except when it came to their relationship?
“We got some very promising applications online for four dogs and six cats,” Birdie said as she came in from the back hallway. “I’ve approved three for the dogs and four for the cats. One of the rejected cat applicants thought her already thirteen black cats might like another now that they’re bored of each other.” She rolled her eyes. “And the other one has a dog who hates cats but would surely learn to love pretty, long-haired Glenda.”
Claire shook her head. “Well, good for the ones who passed muster.” She knew the dog adoption applications would require a home visit, but if everything checked out, those dogs would be going to their forever homes. “I guess Dempsey wasn’t among them?”
“Sorry,” Birdie said. “I don’t know why she keeps being passed up.” She bent down and petted Dempsey. “You’re a beautiful, sweet dog and someone is going to snatch you up soon. Mark my words.”
There was a knock at the door. The shelter wasn’t open yet, so it had to be a volunteer without a key. Matt.
Yup, there he was. Looking gorgeous in his black leather jacket, jeans and work boots. He greeted Birdie and Bunny and nodded at Claire. She nodded back.
“How can I help?” he asked.
Birdie set him to work hanging Adoption Event banners on the upper walls. As more volunteers and foster parents came in with their dogs, Claire lost track of Matt. Then she spotted him standing near the door with Birdie, who’d handed him a stack of information packets so that he could greet each potential adopter with all the info they needed on the available dogs and cats.
The morning passed in a whirlwind of activity. So many people came through the doors. Seven cats found new homes, and the four preapproved applicants for the dogs had all confirmed they wanted the dogs they’d fallen for online now that they’d met them in person. Two volunteers would do home checks today, and then the adoptions would be made official.
“I keep seeing Dempsey’s profile on your website and clicking on it,” a woman said to Claire, bending to pet Dempsey, who sat beside her. “I just love her coloring. Like my hair,” she added on a laugh.
“Like cinnamon,” Claire agreed, though she didn’t think it was much of a reason to be drawn to a dog. Or maybe it was. People fell in love for all kinds of reasons.
“She’s awfully big, though,” the woman added, giving Dempsey a pat. “Aren’t you, you big thing,” she singsonged in baby talk.
Dempsey eyed the woman as if she were above baby talk, but Claire knew Dempsey loved it. When it came to shelter animals, baby talk was a very welcome thing.
After answering the woman’s many questions, Claire asked if she’d like to fill out an application.
“I don’t know,” the woman said. “I was thinking of a much smaller dog. A cuter dog, you know? Not that Dempsey isn’t cute. She’s just so...boxer-y.”
Sigh. “Well, she is a boxer mix.”
This woman sounded all wrong for Dempsey. Like she’d maybe take her and then return her two weeks later. “You know what? Dempsey is beautiful, and I always seem to come back to her. So, maybe I can take her for a walk outside and see how it goes?”
Claire set her up with a leash and led the woman to the fenced yard. She stood by the door while the woman walked Dempsey. At least the prospective adopter was affectionate, giving Dempsey lots of TLC.
“I’d like to put in an application,” the woman said when she returned.
Claire expected to be elated, but instead her heart felt like it weighed two thousand pounds. Granted, Dempsey’s potential new mom was a bit wishy-washy, but adopting a dog was a big decision. Better to talk it out than be impulsive.
“Great,” Claire said, handing the woman an application. “Why don’t you take a seat here and fill it out.” She gestured at the rectangular table that Matt had set up in the lobby with chairs and a canister of pens. “Then I’ll go over it and pass it to one of the owners for final approval.”
“Could that happen today? I was planning to binge-watch season two of my favorite show on Netflix, and I’d hate to have to be interrupted to walk her, especially in the cold.”
Oh brother. You can watch your shows anytime. Bringing home a new dog is a special occasion. Claire frowned and rubbed Dempsey’s side. “Well, we’ll see,” was all she would and could say.
As the woman got busy filling out the application, Claire put Dempsey into one of the kennels with a chew toy. “I’ll be back for you, I promise.” A strange feeling was lodged in her stomach, something she couldn’t quite identify.
“Crazy day,” a familiar voice said.
Matt. She locked Dempsey’s kennel and stood up. “Someone put in an application for Dempsey. I can’t believe it. She might have a permanent home.”
“Looking good?” he asked.
Claire shrugged. “Hard to tell. People sometimes say nutty things when they’re in unfamiliar territory. She’d be a first-time dog owner. I guess I need to give her the benefit of the doubt until I read through her application.”
“Miss?” called a high-pitched voice. “Miss?”
Claire glanced out the window and down the hallway, toward the voice. The woman who wanted to adopt Dempsey was standing and waving at her. “Guess her application is ready.”
Matt gave her a gentle smile. “I’m not quite sure if you want Dempsey to be adopted or not.”
“Of course I want her to be adopted,” she snapped. “I’ve fostered twenty-one dogs since I started volunteering here. Giving them up to the right home is the point.” Her voice was sharper than she’d intended, and she let out a breath. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take your head off. Dempsey is special. I just want her to be in the right home.”
“Understood,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, and it felt so good, so comforting that she wanted him to pull her against him an
d hold her tight.
She’d always known she’d have to say goodbye to Dempsey someday. Same with Matt. The two in the same time frame? That, she wasn’t so sure she could bear.
But she sucked in a breath and left the Dogs room to go read over the application belonging to Dempsey’s potential adopter, her legs like lead.
Chapter Eight
Claire held Gwyneth Cardle’s application for Dempsey and read each line carefully. The woman lived in a single-family home, but there was no fenced yard.
“Since you don’t have a fenced yard, are you prepared to walk Dempsey at least three times a day, for taking care of business and exercise?”
“Three times?” Gwyneth said, her eyes popping. “I’m figuring on walking her right before I leave for work at eight thirtyish, and then when I get home at five thirty.”
Claire stared at her. “You realize that’s nine hours.”
“She’s a big dog, though. I read that big dogs can hold it longer.”
Claire marked an X next to Residence Information.
“So, Dempsey will be alone for nine hours each weekday?” Claire asked. “No contact with people or dogs and no potty break or exercise?”
“I work,” the woman snapped. “So sue me.”
“You could hire a dog walker to come at noon,” Claire said. “I work and that’s what I do.”
“Not everyone can afford that,” Gwyneth muttered. “She’ll have to hold it in.”
Claire marked an X next to Understands Dogs’ Needs and went over the rest of her application, which was as dismal. Under the area that asked what provisions she would make for the dog if she went on vacation, Gwyneth had written: “I really don’t know.”
Next.
If there would be a next. Looks like you’re mine a bit longer, Dempsey, she thought, a feeling she recognized all too well as relief washing over her.
“Thanks so much for filling out the application and for your interest in Dempsey,” she said to Gwyneth. “I’ll pass the application to one of the shelter owners, and we’ll be in touch by the end of the day.”
“Could you not call before five?” she asked, putting on her jacket. “I’m planning on watching five episodes of my show today, so...”
Claire mentally rolled her eyes. “Well, one of the Whitaker sisters will contact you via email. So, no worries.”
As Claire watched the woman walk away and stick her finger in an adoptable kitten’s kennel in the lobby, despite the big sign that read: Please Do Not Put Fingers in Kennels, she thought about how satisfying it would be to stamp the application with Not Recommended.
On her way to the desk to do just that, Claire’s phone pinged with a text. Jasmine, one of her teacher friends from the middle school.
Help! Babysitter canceled and tonight’s my brother-in-law’s wedding. Can you take Tyler? Six to midnightish.
Ooh. Tyler was a precious, adorable, baby-shampoo-scented seven-month-old with huge brown eyes and a gummy smile.
She texted back, Of course! I’ll come pick him up so you don’t get baby spit-up on the gorgeous dress I’m sure you’re wearing.
Thank you!!! I owe you BIG.
Clare smiled. Au contraire. She loved babysitting, especially babies.
And what better way to try to get Matt out of her system than to focus on what she wanted for herself: a child.
* * *
That night, as Matt took Sparkle and Hank into the yard, he could have sworn he saw Claire walking back and forth in her living room with a baby in her arms. Seeing things?
Nope. Because there she was again. Walking and patting the baby on the back.
He swallowed. How many nights had he thought about “what might have been?” if he and Claire had married. Had children. Sometimes he’d think of them with a baby, sometimes with six kids. And then the images would fade because come on. Matt Fielding, someone’s father? A thirty-six-year-old man with a duffel bag and a three-legged dog to his name?
He could see Dempsey staring forlornly out the glass door, hoping to be let out to play with her friends. But Claire clearly had her hands full and looked a bit exasperated.
As she looked out and spotted him, he quickly held up a hand and came over to the door. She slid it open just a bit since she obviously didn’t want to let the cold air inside to chill the baby.
“I’ll take Dempsey if it’s easier on you,” he said.
“Oh, thank God,” she sputtered. “I love Tyler to pieces, but he’s been crying for half an hour. He was fine when I picked him up from my colleague’s house.”
“So you’re babysitting for the night?” he asked.
She nodded, rocking the baby in her arms. “It’s okay, little guy,” she cooed to the baby. “Everything is okay.”
A bell dinged, and Claire glanced toward the left. “Oh crud. That’s my oven timer. Could you hold Tyler for just a minute while I get the cookies out of the oven?”
What? She wanted him to hold the baby? The squawking, red-faced baby?
“Matt?” she asked. “I don’t want to just put him down in his bouncer while he’s so miserable.”
“Okay,” he said, stepping inside the living room and closing the sliding glass door behind him. He held out his arms, clueless as to how to take a baby, let alone hold one. She handed the baby over, and maybe it was the change of scenery of his face versus Claire’s, but the baby stopped crying. Matt took him under the arms and cradled him against his chest, finding that holding the tot was just sort of instinctive. “Name’s Matt,” he said to the baby.
Claire burst out laughing from the kitchen. She poked her head out of the kitchen doorway. “Oh God, I needed that. Thank you.” She poked her head back in and continued laughing.
“Something funny about what I said?” he asked, eyes narrowed toward the kitchen, from where the smell of warm cookies emanated.
She came back inside the living room, grinning. “Yes, actually. ‘Name’s Matt,’” she said, making her voice deeper. She chuckled and reached out to caress the baby’s face.
“Well, shouldn’t I introduce myself?”
“You don’t spend much time around babies, do you?” she asked.
“Nope. But look at me now? Baby whisperer.” He rocked the baby a bit as he had seen Claire do earlier. Tyler laughed.
Matt’s mouth dropped open. “He laughed! Babies laugh?”
“They sure do. And he sure seems to like you. You are the baby whisperer.”
“Whodathunk,” he said, moving to the couch to sit down. Tyler immediately grabbed his chin.
“The dogs are all right on their own?” he asked.
Claire went to the glass door and peered out. “Hank appears to be overseeing the other two as he gnaws on a rope toy. Sparkle is sniffing under the tree, and Dempsey is digging in the spot I made for her to do just that.”
“So, since you’re babysitting and not bringing Dempsey to her new home, I assume that woman’s application didn’t work out.”
“She thought leaving a dog home alone for nine hours every weekday was no big deal,” Claire said. “I mean, maybe some dogs can handle that but it’s not ideal. Given that she didn’t seem a good match for Dempsey in most ways, I didn’t recommend her.”
“Well, I’m sure the right person will come along. Just like me for Hank.”
She stared at him, and he wondered if she was applying that statement to herself, as well.
Tyler gripped Matt’s ear and pulled with a squeal of joy.
“Ow,” Matt said on a laugh. “Quite an arm you got there.” He tickled the baby’s belly and made funny faces at him, sticking out his tongue.
Tyler laughed that big baby laugh that was almost impossible to imagine coming from such a bitty body.
“You really have a way with babies,” Claire said. “Ever think about fatherhood?�
��
His smile faded. “Of course not.”
“Of course not?” she repeated.
“Claire. If I have nothing to offer a woman, I have nothing to offer a baby. I wouldn’t inflict myself on an innocent life.”
“You really don’t see yourself the way others do,” she said.
“Key word there is see. I know who I am. Others see an honorably discharged soldier. They don’t look past the uniform and what it represents.”
“Because it means so much,” she said. “It speaks for itself.”
“I didn’t say I’m a bad person. Just that I have nothing to offer a family. So I’m not going there.”
“Matt, you’ve been home only a couple of weeks. You expect to have your new life figured out already? I certainly don’t expect that of you.”
Once again, she just didn’t understand. Making a baby laugh didn’t mean he was cut out for fatherhood. Training a puppy didn’t mean he was cut out for man of the year.
“Claire, do yourself a favor and stop trying to make me into something I’m not. I don’t want a wife. I don’t want a baby. I’m on my own. Me and Hank.”
She stared at him. “I’ll never forget you telling me that when you had a son, you were going to name him Jesse, after your brother.”
His chest seized up and the back of his eyes stung. He pictured his brother, older by four years, the best person Matt had ever known. And his hero.
“Did I say that?” he managed to choke out.
“Yes, you did,” she said softly.
He closed his eyes and got up and put the baby in the bouncer, latching the little harness. He pushed the On button and the bouncer gently swung side to side. He watched Tyler’s eyes droop and droop some more until they closed.
“Magic,” she said, moving closer behind him.
He turned around and pulled her into a hug. “I did say that,” he whispered. A long time ago, but he’d said it.
A New Leash On Love (Furever Yours Book 1) Page 10
