“Well buddy, looks like we’ll just have to go plead our case.”
Chapter 2
Summer
“Summer, I can’t thank you enough for giving so much attention to Curly for me today,” sighs the woman as she snuggles the poodle up against her chest and presses a big kiss into his white fur. “He was so sick yesterday but I’d already signed up to chaperone my kid’s field trip. I didn’t have a choice. If I couldn’t go they might’ve had to cancel the whole trip.”
“It’s no problem at all. I never took my eyes off him and I kept the vet on call. Curly was a little lethargic, but now he doesn’t seem sick at all. Maybe he got into something in your house. Want me to come look around when I have some free time?”
“No, it’s all right, I’ve already cleaned top to bottom to make sure there’s nothing laying around. I did figure out my kids were hoarding Halloween candy under their beds. Maybe that was it.”
“Either way, if he starts looking ill again, you should take him to the vet.”
“I will,” the woman promises, reaching over to squeeze me tight. “You’re the best dog sitter ever, Summer. You care for my dog like he’s your own.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just how I would want Sadie and Lola treated if they were in someone else’s hands.”
My client nods and sets Curly down, watching as he wags his tail back and forth, happily panting. “We’ll get going. You enjoy your weekend, okay? I bet a pretty young thing like you has so many plans and parties to attend.” She sighs wistfully. “I remember those days. I hope you’re living it up while your hips still let you!”
I give a shallow laugh, walking the woman to the door. “I’m doing my best.”
After she leaves, I shake my head and turn back to where my two pups lounge on an oversized dog bed in my living room. “Yep,” I smirk to my dogs, “we’ve got big plans, don’t we?”
Lola and Sadie, two mutt sisters I’d adopted when they were the size of my palms cupped together, are now close to thirty pounds each. Their brindled fur is thick but smooth, their eyes wise and clear. They’ve become more like sisters, friends, and daughters to me than pets. They’re my whole world.
Though, I guess, dogs in general are my whole world.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.
Since I was a kid I’ve always had a bond with canine-kind. I was always finding lost pups and guiding them back to their homes, refusing a reward because the joyous reunion was reward enough. I volunteered at a dog shelter all through high school, and finally started my own dog walking business after graduation. I dabbled at college for a bit, getting an associate’s degree in business just so I’d be able to understand and run my company better, but at the end of the day, all that matters to me is being able to spend time with the dogs.
I know being a dog walker isn’t exactly considered an inspiring career choice, but I also know that it’s my reason for being on this planet. Clients love me, my list of customers is endless, and the dog kisses are the best reward.
It’s the perfect life if you ask me.
Okay, life would be more perfect if I had a good man to share it with . . . but maybe there’s no such thing as perfection.
My last relationship ended horribly, so I’m afraid to go down that road again just yet. For now, it’s just me and my dogs—as close to perfect as can be.
Sadie, the bigger of my two girls, gives a bark like she agrees. I waltz over and sit beside my dogs, letting them eagerly snuggle up close and lay their heads in my lap. Sadie rolls over, exposing her soft stomach so I can give her a belly rub.
This weekend, our big plans include a pizza for me, dog treats for them, and a binge-watching session of trashy reality TV . . . when I have time, anyway.
During the summer, my Central Bark Dog Walking service always explodes with appointments and last-minute calls as the wealthy uptowners head to the Hamptons or wherever rich people go for vacation.
I certainly wouldn’t know.
The farthest I ever go for a getaway is the nail salon down the street when I got a coupon in the mail.
I lift up my hand, inspecting the neatly filed nails. I kept them short. There wasn’t much of a point in painting them, it wasn’t like I had anyone but my dogs to impress.
Scratching the dogs’ bellies for a long moment, I finally climb to my feet and hunt around for my phone. I’d misplaced it earlier in the day and had been so distracted with Curly’s health that I’d never found it again. When I do finally track it down, knocked under the couch, most likely by playing dogs, I find a handful of missed calls listed, the most recent being twenty minutes ago.
“I’ll call them back after I shower,” I muse aloud, heading down the hall of my small apartment toward the bathroom.
While I walk, I pop open my emails and thumb through the messages from my clients, making a mental list of who needs what. I also notice an email from a dating app I’d tried last year. My heart stops in surprise. I could’ve sworn I’d disabled that account, though maybe I’m not tech savvy enough to have done it correctly.
Apparently, I have a few new matches.
For a second, I feel the electric flutter of excitement at the idea of meeting a tall, dark and handsome stranger. But that’s the last thing I need. Thanks to Colin, I don’t think I’ll be ready to date anytime soon—if ever.
I don’t even bother opening the email, rolling my eyes instead. “Like I have time for that.”
Not when my taste in men is abysmal and my business is booming. Besides, dogs are the only beings that I truly trust. Their top three traits are sweetness, loyalty, and not playing mind games, which is certainly something I can’t say about the last guy I dated.
As much as I try to stop them, images of Colin begin to swim in my mind and my stomach churns with betrayal. This is always what happens when I think of him—which is why I rarely allow myself to.
My penchant for bringing home strays brought Colin into my life. I’d thought he was just down on his luck and needed someone to give him a chance. It turned out he needed someone to abuse. My chest tightens as the fear he left me with coils around my throat. I swear sometimes I can still feel his fingers there. The dogs begin to whine, pulling me from my phantom fear.
“I know,” I say, petting them as much to soothe myself as to comfort them.
I hate that I let one person destroy my faith in humanity, but I hate it even more that I let that person terrify my dogs. They deserve better.
We all do.
I sigh, wondering if maybe I’m just not destined to find love beyond my dogs.
I push the thought away almost as quickly as it forms. I’m too busy to worry about that right now. I turn on some music, crank up the volume, set my phone down and tug my shirt over my head. When it falls to the ground, a cloud of dog fur rises from it. Vacuuming is a daily chore for me. The battle against the fur is endless.
Facing myself in a mirror that needs to be cleaned, I run my fingers down tired, lean muscles. My body is toned and tanned from hours spent parading dogs up and down the busy streets of the city. I wash my face, removing the remnants of sunblock from earlier, hips swaying slightly to the pop song playing. Behind me, steam begins to roll up from the basin of the shower, fogging up the mirror.
Leaving the door open, I strip the rest of my clothes off and hop in.
The water surges around me, rinsing off the remaining grime of the day. I tip my head back, welcoming the flow of the water as I belt out the lyrics along with the song. My athletic legs ache just slightly from all the activity of the day and my arms are tired from the constant strain of the leashes but I can’t help but groove to the beat of the lively music. It’s my favorite way to destress.
From beyond the trill of the upbeat song and the thrum of the water hitting the shower floor, I hear Lola and Sadie bark. I stop singing and dancing, though I still lazily scrub at my body with my pink fluffy loofah, straining my ears to hear whether someone is knocking on the
door.
The only person who would be knocking this late is my landlord, though I’d dropped my rent check off at his place this morning on my way out for my earliest dog walking appointment.
He never seemed to mind if I left it under his doormat before . . . Maybe he’d missed it? Oh hell, what if someone stole it?
Even though business was doing well, it wasn’t like I had a ton of money lying around to cover a missing rent check.
I strain my ears, listening. A feeling of unease begins to twist my insides as my mind jumps back to thoughts of Colin.
Calm down, I tell myself. Colin is in jail.
I’d pressed charges after the second time he’d hit me. My bruises and his prior record were enough to send him away, but that still didn’t stop my fear from running away with me.
After a few more minutes of barking, Lola and Sadie go quiet and I hurry to finish washing up. I’d only just lathered up my tea tree shampoo on my head when I heard the creak of the bathroom door followed by a voice—a man’s voice.
“Hello? Hello?”
The voice is deep and intimidating. My landlord, though a man, has a voice more high pitched than mine. I have no idea who this voice belongs to.
Panic cracks through me like a whip making me turn so quickly I lose my balance. My feet go sliding out from under me, sending me flying through my shower curtain. I grab at the wet curtain as I fall but that does nothing but cause the metal shower rod to crash down with me. Blinding by my shampoo, I army crawl over the floor and snag a nearby towel, wrapping it around me. Suds stings my eyes, making it hard to see but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not if it’s really him, coming back to finish what he started.
I try reasoning with myself. He’s in jail, Summer. You put him there. But the pounding of my heart makes it hard to hear my own thoughts. I use the towel to wipe the soap from my eyes as I scramble for any sort of weapon in my tiny bathroom. That’s when I notice the pair of polished black loafers standing just outside the doorway of the bathroom.
Colin never owned anything that expensive.
“Don’t come any closer!” I shout, wondering just where the hell my two guard dogs have disappeared to. My brain scrambles, trying to remember what I’m supposed to do in the event of a break-in. I have pepper spray but it’s in my purse. “I’ve already called the police, they’ll be here any second!”
“Somehow I doubt that,” the person answers in a husky voice. “But you do look like you could use some assistance.”
“What I need is for you to get the hell out of my house!” I squawk still trying to wipe my eyes while containing some level of modesty with my too-small towel.
“Listen, I’m sorry I startled you. I mean you no harm. A friend gave me your business card and I tried calling but you didn’t answer and I really need to talk to you.”
I glare at him now, though I can barely see through my soap-stung eyes, “I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to just show up and walk right into my house?”
“It’s an emergency. I need your help. My dog needs your help.”
The word dog catches my attention but does little to calm my temper. I point a single finger away from me. “Go out there. Sit down and put your hands where I can see them.”
He nods and through my blurry eyes I swear I can see him smirking before he easily strides back to the living room. I can hear Sadie and Lola sniffling and trotting around, inspecting the intruder. Some guard dogs they are! I guess I’m going to have to keep that in mind if I ever do have someone try to break into my place someday. My dogs are just too friendly for their own good.
Slamming the bathroom door shut, I climb slowly to my feet and jump back in the shower just long enough to rinse off the remaining soap. I run my palms over my sore knees hoping they won’t bruise. Then I climb back out of the shower, dry myself off and dart from the bathroom to my bedroom to pull on clean clothes.
A few minutes later, I’m standing impatiently in my living room, pepper spray in hand as I furiously glare at one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in my life. He leans back against the couch, one ankle crossed over his knee. He’s wearing a suit that fits him perfectly and shoes so polished that I can see my own reflection in them. One of his hands rests atop the beast beside him. The Husky is still as a statue, large and gray and quiet. The dog’s ears are pinned against the back of his head.
“Now explain why I shouldn’t call the police,” I demand furiously.
Chapter 3
Cooper
I climb to my feet, earning a wary glance from Rosco as I walk over to the woman and stick out my hand.
“You’re Summer Young, right?” I ask holding up the business card matching this address. “My name is Cooper Townsend, and this is Rosco. I was hoping you’d be willing to watch him for the weekend.”
She blinks once, then twice, her jaw dropping. Her long hair, still slick from the shower, clings to her cheeks and drips water down the front of her oversized blue t-shirt. The shirt hangs down to the middle of her thighs, just barely concealing the hem of a pair of very stretchy, very tiny shorts that give way to tan legs.
“Excuse me?” she asks, sounding as though she’s either trying not to hysterically laugh, scream, or punch me. “You break into my house and want me to watch your dog?”
“I didn’t break in. I knocked and the door swung right open. You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked like that. It’s dangerous.”
It’s not like I don’t see her point about me strolling inside her house, but her living space is so tiny that I didn't realize I’d even left the living room until I almost fell into her bathroom. It’s not like I’m trying to be nosy on purpose. I couldn’t even hear the shower running over the loud sound of her music.
She actually does burst into laughter this time, her slender arms folding over her chest. The thin cotton of her oversized shirt clings to curves. My eyes wander down her body before returning to her face. She’s gorgeous despite her fury.
“It’s dangerous?” she hisses, eyes blazing. “You, the one who just walked into my house like it belongs to you, are telling me that it’s dangerous?”
Even though she’s furious with me, I can’t help but smile. Inner flames churn in her eyes, fanning me with their warmth. Most people know my status and position and wouldn’t dream of speaking to me in such a way, but this woman right here doesn’t care about that at all. And I kind of like it. It doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful.
“I wouldn’t have walked in if the door was locked or even closed all the way. I would’ve just stood there banging on the door for an hour. But it did open and I did step in. I’m sorry for walking in on you. It was an accident.”
An accident that I certainly wouldn’t be regretting any time soon.
Her caramel hued body, gleaming with water would remain on the backs of my eyelids every time I blinked for a very long time.
She rolls her eyes, glancing toward the door. I’d shut it after I walked in, not wanting Rosco or her dogs to escape. Though her wariness has faded and been replaced with ire, she still seems uncomfortable with having a stranger in her home unexpectedly. I should probably take my leave sooner rather than later.
“Fine. But don’t go walking into people’s houses. It’s not cool. Got it?”
I nod quickly, again apologizing. This time she sighs and shrugs, which I think is a gesture of forgiveness. “Now, I have to get back to work. Can you watch him for me, Summer?”
The name fits her sun-kissed hair and bronzed skin, probably earned from long hours spent outside. Even her dark brown eyes have golden flecks in them that remind me of warm beach sand. It’s been a time since I was able to stand with my feet in the bay, cold water licking at my toes.
When would I ever have time to do that again?
Rosco had loved the beach the one time I took him, darting up and down the dunes and barking as loudly as he could. I’d never seen him happier.
“How did you get my card?” she asks, arm
s still folded hard against her chest.
“My neighbor gave it to me. It has all your info on it. I find it almost hard to believe that I’m the first one to show up here.”
“Most people call first,” she retorts, eyes narrowed. “In fact, all people do. Except for those without manners or tact I suppose.”
“Actually, if you ever bothered to check your phone, you’ll see that I did call, about a dozen times.” I grin at her, shrugging. “Anyway, Mrs. Donnell is the woman who watched Rosco for me before. She recommended you highly, and her endorsement is one that I value when it comes to my dog.”
The woman’s face immediately softens, her lower lip sucked under her white front teeth. “Mrs. Donnell is your neighbor?”
“Yes.
“So, you live in that big apartment building on 5th?”
Chin bobbing, I fish out the card and hold it up. Mrs. Donnell’s handwriting is scrawled on the side of the card, noting the number where I could reach her out of town. “She’s having a family emergency and has to go out of state for a while. She doesn’t know when, or if, she’ll be back. I don’t trust Rosco with just anyone, but she said you’re the best and I really do have to return to my office.”
Summer sighs and snatches the card, inspecting the swirling handwriting before handing it back. “Mrs. Donnell was a high school teacher of mine. That feels like forever ago. I didn’t know she still thought of me.”
“I guess she does.”
Summer frowns thoughtfully up at me and then at Rosco. The Husky has been sitting perfectly still, his eyes alert and his tail low. The two other dogs have sniffed him a few times, but now sit across the living room quietly observing the strange new beast in their home.
“Listen, Cooper, I hear you and I can tell that you need a sitter for your pal here but I have a certain way of operating my business and this is not it.”
Cooper: A Clean Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Boyfriend Series Book 2) Page 2
