CHAPTER ELEVEN
The dog was a bouncy, friendly German Shepherd cross, who was desperate to run after his ball – although he wasn’t as keen on bringing it back. He was currently standing in the middle of the enclosed field at The Forever Home, his tail waving from side to side, his eyes bright and hopeful, and a neon pink ball wedged in his mouth.
‘You’ve got to let me have it, if you want me to throw it again,’ Jakob told him.
Another wag of the tail, but no movement on the ball-dropping front, and Jakob shook his head, amused.
Determined not to let go of his prize, the dog trotted off for a sniff, leaving Jakob alone with his thoughts, which was something he’d tried desperately to avoid doing since he’d left Gretta’s house yesterday.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been successful. Even after mulling it over and over for most of the night, he wasn’t sure how Gretta had come to be in his arms.
His lips still tingled. To be honest, all of him still tingled. For a few wonderful, magical moments he’d lost himself to the sensations flooding through him: the taste of her lips, her light flowery scent, the feel of her body against his.
And then he’d come to his senses and jerked away, mortified.
Fancying her was one thing, acting on it was another, and all because he’d been thrilled that she’d fallen in love with Bertie and wanted to give him a forever home. That was no reason to kiss her, especially since he’d vowed never to let anyone get under his skin again. Once bitten…
Maybe one day he’d be able to face risking his heart again, but not yet. Clare’s betrayal was still too raw, too recent.
Some people might say that three years was long enough to get over the way she’d treated him, but he’d loved her. And love didn’t have a switch to be turned on and off. It wasn’t something to be controlled. He might hate what she’d done and the way she’d behaved, but he hadn’t been able to hate her .
Jakob wished he hadn’t kissed Gretta, but there was no putting the genie back in the bottle, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Should he phone and apologise, or would it make things worse?
If he’d intended to apologise, he should have done so straight away, but he’d called Trixie to him and had left with a muttered goodbye, a body that was on fire, and a mind in turmoil.
How did Gretta feel about it? Had she forgiven him? Her expression had been one of dismay, but for a few delicious moments she’d thrown herself into the kiss, and he was sure she’d been swept away by its intensity, just as he had.
Could he pretend it had never happened?
Possibly, if he kept his distance.
He should ask Dawn to handle the adoption paperwork. He needn’t get involved.
Gretta might appreciate that, because she had her own emotional baggage to contend with, and he doubted she needed any more.
The dog, bored with sniffing, sidled up to him and dropped the ball at his feet. Jakob threw it, and as the animal bounded joyfully after it, Jakob kept coming back to how good the kiss had felt. How right. And how much he liked Gretta as a person. As a woman .
And how much Clare had hurt him.
He hadn’t got over how she’d treated him, and he wasn’t sure he ever would. And now she was back in town, dredging up memories he’d worked hard to bury.
The dog was panting hard after finally getting the idea that dropping the ball so it could be thrown again meant more fun, and Jakob deemed him tired enough to return him to his pen for a nap.
He was giving his ears a final ruffle and telling him what a good boy he was, when Jakob heard his name being called.
Slipping out of the kennel, he secured the door, then looked at Maisie. She had a woman with her.
‘Jakob, this is Erica Hilliard. She’s here about the French bulldog, Bertie, the one whose owner died and—’
‘I know the one,’ he broke in, making her blink in surprise at his rudeness.
The woman also appeared uncertain, glancing from him to Maisie and back again. She said, ‘He was my uncle. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know he had a dog until a few days ago. I would have come sooner, but there’s so much to do when someone dies.’ She put a hand to her cheek. ‘At least the funeral is sorted now. It’s a week Thursday in Thornbury Church.’ She glanced up and down the row of kennels. ‘Can I take the dog now?’
‘He’s not here,’ Jakob told her gruffly, a barrage of emotions sweeping over him, the most prominent being dismay for Gretta. She was going to be so upset.
‘Please don’t tell me he’s been re-homed already,’ Erica said. ‘I don’t think my uncle would have wanted it to go to strangers.’
Jakob bit back a retort. How could she know what Mr Butler wanted, if she hadn’t even known he’d had a dog? They couldn’t have been close.
‘He’s being fostered,’ Jakob said, trying to keep his voice neutral. Mr Butler’s relationship with his family wasn’t his concern; Bertie’s welfare and the law, was .
What about Gretta? a little voice in his head asked. Aren’t you concerned about her?
He was actually. Very concerned. This would devastate her.
‘What does that mean?’ Erica asked.
‘He didn’t settle in kennels, so someone is looking after him in their home.’
‘Oh, I see. Can I go fetch him?’
Jakob sighed. He had little choice. She was entitled to take the dog. ‘Let me give Gretta a call, make sure she’s in,’ he said.
But the real reason he wanted to phone her was to prepare her for the awful reality that the dog she’d fallen in love with was about to be taken away from her.
Gretta had slept badly, but she couldn’t blame Bertie. Tell a lie, she could, but only insofar as if she hadn’t promised to look after him, she never would have met Jakob.
However, the blame for kissing him rested solely on her shoulders. Bertie couldn’t be held responsible for that .
Looking back, she wasn’t entirely sure who had made the first move: one moment he’d been walking towards the door and the next she’d been in his arms, his mouth on hers, and they’d been kissing.
Jakob had engulfed her. It was like being cuddled by an enormous teddy bear, and she’d allowed herself to relax into him for a moment, relishing the sensation. It had been such a very long time since she’d been held and she’d thoroughly enjoyed it.
For a second or two.
Until she’d realised what she was doing and had come to her senses. It pained her that Jakob had looked as mortified as she’d felt. He hadn’t wanted it to happen, either. It had been as much of a shock to him.
They’d parted hurriedly. He hadn’t been able to get away fast enough, and she’d desperately wanted him gone.
Shutting the door, she’d leant against it, her heart pounding, her stomach in knots, her emotions a jumbled, chaotic mess. She’d liked the kiss a lot. She liked him . Far too much. And she was scared.
All night she’d told herself that it was just a kiss. People kissed all the time.
Yeah, but not like that .
The passion that had swept through her for those few seconds had consumed her, and it had felt so good. So right.
Until common sense had smacked her on the forehead and demanded to know what the hell she was doing.
It’s okay , she told herself. She didn’t have to see him again. She could probably get Bertie’s adoption sorted without involving Jakob. Maybe it could be done online, or via the main centre in Thornbury? She’d do it today, right now in fact, because although she was sitting at her desk, she wasn’t doing any work. Concentration was beyond her this morning. She’d done little but stare at the screen for the past hour and think about Jakob. So she may as well get the adoption ball rolling.
Her phone was in her hand when it rang.
Letting out a squeak of surprise, she nearly dropped it. Then she saw Jakob’s name on the screen and almost didn’t answer.
Deciding to take the bull by the horns (because it had been her avoidance of confrontation that had allowed Landon to control her) she leapt in with, ‘About yesterday—’ but didn’t get any further before Jakob cut her off.
‘I’ve got Mr Butler’s niece with me.’
‘Pardon?’ His words caught her unawares, and they didn’t sink in straight away.
‘Mr Butler’s niece is here for Bertie.’
‘But he’s with me,’ she replied stupidly, then realised what he was saying. Abruptly, she slumped back in her chair, the wind knocked out of her. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘I’m sorry.’
She could tell he was. He wasn’t lying. But was he sorry for Bertie because the dog had bonded to her, or for her, because he knew how she felt about the little pooch?
Both, probably. He of all people, knew what it was like to love a dog. And she did love Bertie. In just a week he’d stolen her heart, and now she was about to be hurt once more.
So much for her vow of never allowing herself to fall in love again, but when she’d made it, she’d never imagined she’d lose her heart to a dog .
Gretta didn’t hear most of what was said next, only that Jakob would be along shortly with Mr Butler’s niece to collect Bertie and please could she have his things ready?
Numbly, she wandered around the house, dropping his toys, bowls, and blankets into a bag. Bertie, sensing something was up, followed her from room to room, his nose almost touching her leg as he whined anxiously.
It didn’t take long to gather everything together. A matter of minutes. But she guessed it would be a long time before the pain of losing Bertie diminished.
This dog had left his paw prints on her heart.
In the years that Jakob had worked at the sanctuary, he’d seen his fair share of distraught owners. If you loved an animal and had to give it up, for whatever reason, it was always distressing for everyone concerned. Especially the animals themselves, and try as he might, Jakob had never been able to harden his heart. It upset him every time.
Today was the worst.
‘The dog is with his neighbour?’ Erica seemed surprised after Jakob had told her who was looking after Bertie. ‘The note said it had been brought here. If I’d known, I could have knocked on the door and saved you the trouble.’ She stared at him brightly. ‘I can do that anyway,’ she added. ‘No need to come with me.’
‘I’m afraid there is,’ he said. ‘Bertie is in our care, so it’s our responsibility to see him handed over.’
She shrugged. ‘Okay, but will it take long? I’ve got a meeting with the solicitor at twelve-thirty.’
‘It won’t,’ he assured her. ‘There’s some paperwork to sign first, then it’s simply a matter of collecting him.’
But Jakob knew there wasn’t going to be anything simple about it for Bertie or Gretta, and when he pulled up outside her house, he felt like the biggest heel in the world.
Gretta met them at the door, white-faced and haunted-eyed.
She had Bertie in her arms.
The dog wriggled happily when he saw Jakob, squirming and eager to get down to give him a proper welcome. The newcomer, his new rightful owner, he ignored.
Burying her face in the dog’s neck, Gretta gave him a hug, holding onto him fiercely. Then, without a word, she passed him to Jakob. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and Jakob’s jaw tensed.
He took a moment to give Bertie a cuddle before gently putting him down. As Jakob handed the lead to Erica, Bertie stood on his back paws and scrabbled at Jakob’s legs, asking to be picked up again.
‘So, you’re Bertie, are you?’ Erica said, leaning down. She hesitantly patted his head, and Bertie stopped pestering Jakob long enough to look at her.
Then he spied Zaza, who was sauntering down the hallway to see what was going on, and he lunged towards her, almost yanking the lead out of Erica’s hand.
‘My, he’s stronger than he looks, isn’t he?’ She was eyeing him doubtfully,
‘If you put him in your car, I’ll bring his things,’ Jakob offered.
‘Lovely, thank you. As I said, I can’t hang about.’
Two bags and the crate sat in the hall, and as he reached for them Gretta looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.
In a way, Jakob was glad, because he didn’t think he could handle the pain he knew would be in her eyes. Saying goodbye to a dog was hard.
Yet Jakob realised that saying goodbye to Gretta was harder because, after this, he doubted he would see her again.