Chapter 26
Rhett
“How is he?” Garrett asked the minute he walked in the door.
This was his dog. He was the one who was supposed to take a few days off work to help the poor bastard adjust, but the flu season had nurses calling in sick left and right, and, as one of the few guys left standing, he got rostered on. Instead, I stayed home to keep an eye on the little guy.
“Hasn’t eaten,” I said, biting off each word. “Hasn’t drunk anything.”
“No water?” He stared at me like somehow I was responsible for that fact, which had my jaw clenching tight. I shook my head sharply. “Shit.” He dropped down onto his knees and peered under the bed. “How we doing, fella?” But when he reached under the bed, the dog did the same thing he did for me, shuffling back. “Is his nose dry? Has he been panting a lot?”
Too loud, that’s what I wanted to tell him. When he and Rhys went to work and left me at home, the place felt too big, too empty. The sound of the dog’s pants were a rhythmic soundtrack to the memories my mind seemed intent on replaying over and over all day. Walking in and seeing Katie sitting there and thinking for just a second that she was here for me. That she had come around because she decided she was ready to give things a go.
Trouble is, I wasn’t the only one.
“Some,” I admitted. “I called the vet.”
“Can they fit him in?” Garrett looked at his phone. “Maybe I should call the shelter and see what they think?”
“Call the shelter?” Rhys walked in with his gym bag over his shoulder. “What happened? Bronson?”
Suddenly, all three of us were on the damn floor, all talking at once to the dog. Big amber eyes viewed each one of us with something akin to anxiety, and I hated that. It was too damn similar to the look on Katie’s face. I’d had a long time to fantasise how things were going to go when she finally left Dave in the dirt, but it wasn’t like this.
“I’ve been reading up on dog training,” Rhys said. “The articles said that using high-pitched, kinda cutesy voices with a dog can help build a bond and make him more attentive.”
“What, like this?” Garrett asked, before turning back to Bronson. “Who’s a good boy? Are you a good boy? Yes, you are. Yes, you are!”
Rhys stared at me and couldn’t help but let out a snort.
“This was your bloody idea,” I growled at him.
“High pitched,” Garrett hissed. “He started wagging his tail a little bit until you got all grumpy.”
“Say something in a cute voice.” Rhys nodded to the space under the bed. “Tell the dog he’s a good boy.”
“Bronson…” I faltered, my voice cracking as I tried to imitate Garrett’s tone. “Bronson, you’re a very good boy!” The other two started to cackle, but the dog shifted his head slightly to put me in his sights. “You’ve done it tough, mate, but you’re safe now. Warm house, all the pats you could want.”
“And a Scotch fillet steak.” Rhys rustled in his bag and pulled out a paper wrapped bundle. “Along with the juiciest bone the butcher could find.”
“Just come out and have a big drink of water,” Garrett pleaded in an incongruous voice, as if that was the most exciting idea in the world. “C’mon, boy. You can do it. You can…”
It was working. The dog moved suddenly, scrambling out from under the bed and heading towards the bowl. I felt a hot rush of pleasure, grinning for the first time in days, only to find that we weren’t the reason he emerged.
“Hello, boy!” Katie stood at the doorway, obviously having let herself in. “I hear you haven’t been drinking? C’mon, let’s get you a nice, fresh bowl of water.”
Fuck, she was here. She said she’d come around, but that didn’t change the fact that it felt like a gut punch, seeing her inside my house again. After the other night, I half expected never to lay eyes on Katie again. When I scrambled to my feet, so did the others, all of us following her down into the kitchen.
“Um… hey, Katie.” I scratched at the back of my neck, searching for words and not finding them. “Thanks for coming by.”
“You called her…?” Garrett hissed, but he didn’t wait for an answer. Katie started rumbling through his kitchen cupboards, so he moved in and opened the plastic drawer. “Looking for a bowl?”
“Perfect,” she said, taking it from him and then filling it up. Bronson started to dance around her feet, as if the sweetest of nectar was being poured into the bowl. Like I hadn’t been trying to tempt him with tap water all day. He lapped it up gustily the minute she set the bowl down, and I let out a long sigh. Tension I hadn’t even felt leached from my body, right as I shook my head.
“I gave him water.” I was pleading for her to understand. “I emptied the old water and refilled it, then when that didn’t work, I slid a shallow dish under the bed filled with water. He just edged away from me. I tried leaving the room, in case I was the thing he was scared of, but when I came back, the bowls were at the same level. I marked them.”
Katie smiled then.
“I was supposed to be here.” Garrett kneeled down beside Bronson, and the dog leaned into his legs. “Every bloody person on staff is away sick at the moment and I had to go to work.”
“I made sure Bronson didn’t go anywhere today.” Rhys held up his hands. “Rhett called into work to see if he could work from home.”
“I know how long humans can go without water, but I wasn’t sure about dogs,” I said. “I looked online, and they said that they can last seventy two hours, but after twenty four you risk serious organ damage and?—”
“And you did the right thing,” she said. “All of you.” I frowned as she winced, then hobbled over to a chair in the living room. I was there, pulling it out for her, my hands resting on the back of her chair for a second. My fingers itched with the need to touch her. “It looks like Bronson is finding it harder to adjust than we thought.”
The dog himself lifted his head from the bowl, his muzzle dripping. He trotted over and then rested his head on her lap. The way she stiffened, that clawed at me.
“You’re injured,” I said, scanning her for signs of why. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
“Just Mandie.” She rumpled the dog’s ears and his eyes fell closed a little, his tail wagging back and forth. I looked up and met the other guys’ eyes, wondering what the hell that meant. “She took me at my word and pushed me hard in the gym yesterday.”
“Delayed onset muscle soreness.” Rhys said that with a smirk. “You must be in a world of pain.”
“Not right now.” She caressed the dog’s face. Anyone could see the drastic transformation in the animal. Bronson loved Katie with his entire doggy heart, and I couldn’t help but sympathise with him. If I had the choice between Katie or me, I wouldn’t be choosing me either. “But what are we going to do with you, boy?”
She didn’t use a high-pitched voice like we had, just one filled with love and affection. The dog knew that, letting out a huff of breath.
“I can’t take you home.” His tail wagged furiously, somehow able to glean some of her meaning. “This is where you live now, and you need to stop scaring the shit out of everyone by not eating or drinking.”
“Maybe…” I shook my head as she looked up to meet my eyes. “Maybe you could help him with the adjustment process? We could pay you?—”
“I can’t accept money for helping you guys with Bronson.” Her forehead creased. “Half of me expected you would have returned him to the shelter by now.”
“That’s not how shit works here.” Rhys drew up a chair beside him and Bronson went very still, giving him the side-eye as Garrett retrieved the meat Rhys had bought. He had a chopping board out and was slicing the meat into thin strips within seconds. “No man left behind, hey buddy?”
Bronson watched Rhys’ hand as he drew closer, every muscle pulled tight, but when he reached out and gave the dog’s flank a scratch, Bronson tolerated it.
“We’ll get through to him,” I promised her, just to see the look of relief in her eyes. “Look.”
Garrett came over with the chopping board in hand. The dog sniffed, no doubt smelling the scent of primo steak in the air. He grabbed a sliver and then held it out. Bronson’s nose worked, a thin string of drool forming, but he didn’t move, not until Garrett got closer. The slice of meat hovered in the air and then snap…! The dog’s jaws snatched it from the air and he gobbled it down with an almost abashed air.
“Good dog!”
My voice was creaky but high pitched. Somehow, I couldn’t have been prouder than if Bronson was my own child. He looked up, shooting me a doggy grin as if to reassure me this was all very easy and straightforward, dismissing the fact I’d been low key panicking about the dog all day. His tail wagged as he stared up at me, then was quickly distracted by Rhys getting in on the act. He tossed the dog a piece of meat and damn me if the pup didn’t rise up on his back legs and snatch it from the air. He ate the meat with gusto and then turned around, looking for more.
“You're hungry now, mate?” Garrett asked, grabbing one of the brand new dog bowls. He shoved the rest of the steak in there and set it down before the dog. A moment of hesitation as he looked back over his shoulder at Katie, only for her to nod.
“Go on.”
He wolfed the meat down in seconds, then went to work licking the bowl clean.
“Shit.” I sank down into a chair. “Katie, I’m sorry. I literally tried everything. I didn’t want to call you and tried the vet instead…”
My voice trailed away as her hand came to rest on my arm. The need to flex beat down hard, but I didn’t. I just stared at those delicate little fingers, the pale skin contrasting with my more tanned arm.
“You didn’t want him to get sick or hurt.” I felt her eyes on me and couldn’t help but meet her gaze. “You care.”
“Didn’t really want a dog,” I grumbled, shooting Garrett a dark look. “A cat would’ve been easier, but…” I stared at the dog, shaking my head as he pulled away from his food and went and lapped up more water. “He’s a part of the family now. That means we need to make sure he has everything he needs.”
“So… This isn’t exactly what you signed up for,” Garrett said with a sheepish smile, “but would you be willing to help us settle him into the house? There’s a tray of the best lasagna in the city in it for you. Maybe some chocolate chip cookies?”
She sucked in a breath to refuse, I was sure of it, so I cut her off.
“Need your oil changed or your shower regrouted?” I asked, then shook my head internally at my offer. “I’m pretty handy with the tools.”
“I—”
“I’ve been told I’ve got magic fingers.” Rhys wiggled them in the air. We all shot him a dark look which forced him to explain. “Massages, I meant I could massage away any muscle pain.”
“If you’d all stop talking for a second.” Katie looked at all three of us. “I’d be able to say that of course, I’d help out.” She bent down and pressed a kiss to the dog’s forehead, forcing his tail to wag even faster. “Anything for my boy.”
Goddammit, I would’ve given anything to hear her say something similar about me. Fuck my life, I was jealous of a damn dog.