Chapter 7 #2
“Is that why you stopped by?”
He jerks his shoulders, a self-conscious grin on his handsome face. “Well, yeah. The kid never clarified the culprit was a dog.”
Once again Hugo came to my rescue, and once again I find my resolve to keep my distance weakening. At the moment I’m so overwhelmed by everything, feel so out of control and scared, I can’t bring myself to resist him. Things don’t seem quite as dire when he’s around.
“So, obviously, Buck managed to convince you.”
I snort at his assumption. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? But no, this one is all on me. I had the misguided idea getting a dog would give me some dependability and predictability in my life. Guess the joke is on me, but at least he makes for a good sleep aid.”
“Predictability would need some work, but dependability is my middle name, and I would’ve been more than happy to help you get to sleep. I’m right here.”
Hugo leans forward, resting one forearm on his knee, while reaching out with the other hand.
When he looks at me, his eyebrows pull up and his forehead creases.
I don’t know why, but I love those creases.
So many times, over the years, I’ve wanted to reach out and smooth my fingertips over them.
Same with the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes.
Lines that map the story of his life. A life in which I was a mere spectator on the sidelines.
But that’s no longer the case; the invitation is clear in his eyes.
It would be the easiest thing in the world just to give in. To grab his hand and give myself over to a reality that only existed in my imagination before. However, it wouldn’t be fair to him. I know what I’m getting, but he has no idea.
“There are things you don’t know.”
“Sure,” he responds easily, keeping his hand out and open. “But what I do know is enough, and everything else I can learn.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “Not all of it is pretty.”
“Mistakes are what shape us,” he counters.
My eyes snap open.
“Do you have an answer for everything?”
He laughs in my face. “No, but I know whatever it is you want to throw at me, we can figure it out.”
His hand is still there, hanging in midair, and I finally reach out and touch my fingers to his.
He immediately grabs hold and leans in to press a kiss to the inside of my wrist, lingering his lips against my rapid pulse.
He lightly tugs on my arm and I slip off the couch with the intent to crawl on his lap.
Unfortunately, despite my efforts not to disrupt Ragnar, he wakes up and immediately hops off, ready for action.
“I need to take him for a walk,” I point out when the dog heads for the front door.
In hindsight, a backyard would’ve been handy, but as it is, I need to take him out many times a day to do his business.
I learned that lesson very quickly last night when, in the span of a few hours, he’d had two accidents on my floor.
Thank God for the vinyl planks I had installed a couple of years ago, because cleanup was a breeze, but discovering a puddle of pee when padding around in your socks is not a fun experience.
“I’ll come,” Hugo offers, giving my fingers a squeeze before releasing my hand.
As soon as we hit the bottom of the back stairs, he takes Ragnar’s leash from me, grabbing it in his left hand as he folds mine in his right.
On previous walks, the dog almost pulled the leash from my hand, but the first time he tries with Hugo, he’s scolded in an extra deep rumble.
The damn dog instantly eases up on the leash.
“Figures,” I grumble. “Of course, I’d pick a dog who won’t listen to a woman, but instantly submits to two words uttered by a man.”
Hugo doesn’t bother hiding his amusement.
“Has little to do with gender; it’s tone of voice and clear commands most animals respond to. You’re trying to have a conversation with him, it doesn’t work.”
“How do you even know this? You don’t have a dog,” I point out.
“I grew up with dogs,” he explains as we pass by what is left of Clem’s garage, which isn’t much.
“The idea is to get their attention by calling their name, and when you know you have it, give them a one or two word command in a firm tone. Anything more and they stop listening, and he may not understand words, but he’ll recognize intent. ”
As he goes on to tell me about his childhood pets, we walk to the small park up the street where Ragnar does his business.
“I should’ve timed this better, instead of getting him right before the busiest days of the week,” I confess, when we start walking back. “At least I’ll be off the day after tomorrow.”
When we get to my front door, Hugo turns to me.
“Get Carson to help you with Ragnar tomorrow. He won’t mind. In fact, I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of it. Should the dog get out of hand, call me. I’m working, but he can always ride in the back of the cruiser, and I’m sure nobody will mind if he sleeps under my desk at the office.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I protest, shaking my head.
“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”
I roll my eyes at him when he does that thing with his eyebrows, challenging me.
“We’ll see how it goes.”
“Fair enough.”
Once again, he takes my keys and unlocks the door for me. Then he ushers Ragnar inside before pulling it shut again, leaving the two of us standing on the small landing.
“Thank you for talking me off the ledge,” I offer.
He slips one arm around my waist, and cups my face with his free hand.
“Any time.”
Then he kisses me, and I let him.