Chapter 6
Six
Sebastian
“Dad, when can we see the puppy again? It’s been forever,” Enzo whines as I strap him into his booster seat in the back of my Porsche Cayenne. He’s been asking about the dang dog since family day over a week ago, and I’m running out of excuses and ideas to distract him.
“The puppy has a lot of work to do for the team, bud. You know how busy he is. I’ll ask Miss McKenna when she plans to have him back for an event I can bring you to, okay?”
“Fine,” he says, stretching out the word and looking forlornly out the window as I stand. “Can we maybe go to the aquarium again? We had to leave early last time, and I didn’t get to see the dolphins.”
Damn, this kid sure knows how to innocently hit every guilt trip that’ll have me feeling like a shitty father.
He asks for so little, just my uninterrupted time and the chance to see a dog he’s fallen in love with, and I can’t even fulfill those simple requests.
I wish I were better at this, able to entertain him, create structure and stability that make him feel comfortable and happy.
Instead, every time I take him out, we’re stopped by fans, and my time with him is interrupted.
We had to leave the aquarium because it felt unsafe when we were mobbed by a group of people who recognized me, asking for selfies and making a scene.
I didn’t feel comfortable staying with my kid after that, and told him we had to go despite having promised him we could see the dolphin show.
He threw a fit, and I left with a screaming four-year-old over my shoulder.
I’m hesitant to go back, or to any crowded public place, after that clusterfuck.
“Maybe when it’s not so crowded. You remember what happened last time, right? It was pretty scary when all those people showed up, and I don’t want anyone to ruin your visit again. We’ll find something to do, just you and me.”
He pouts, his bottom lip sticking out as his big hazel eyes gloss over, and my chest constricts.
Fuck, this sucks so much. I close the door gently and shove my hands in my hair, pulling as I fight a scream that’s lodged in my throat.
Eliana would have been so much better at this than I am.
She was always so patient, had all these ideas for what we’d do with our kids, how we’d have so much fun and raise them to be the coolest ever, but Enzo got stuck with me and lost the parent he deserved.
I have to make this up to him somehow. I blow out a breath as I rack my brain for things we can do that aren’t super crowded in the summer that he’d like.
Not easy when you’re looking for kid-friendly options.
Wait, Tucker did give me an open-ended offer to visit the training facility.
It would allow Enzo to play with all the dogs his heart desires without risking a meltdown incident from strangers mobbing us.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and look for the number I saved under T Puppy Guy, and pull up a new message.
Sebastian: Hey, this is Sebastian Montenegro from the Hydras.
Hope it’s cool to text you like this. My kid Enzo was obsessed with the puppy you brought to family day last week and hasn’t stopped talking about it.
Can I take you up on that offer to visit your place and let him play with some dogs for a bit? It would make his day.
I climb into the car and wait a few minutes to see if I get a reply before I start for home. It comes and has me exhaling a relieved breath.
T Puppy Guy: Hey, yes, totally fine to text, and of course! You’re always welcome to come by. I’ll send the address as a pin to make it easier to find. I’m kind of out in the boondocks.
Sebastian: Are there a lot of people there now, or a chance I’ll be recognized?
It’s been kind of rough lately for my kid when we’ve been out, and I would hate for that to happen again.
I could pay to close the facility to the public for the day if you’re okay with that.
I know it’s a big ask, so let me know what it costs, and I’ll double it.
T Puppy Guy: The only thing you gotta worry about out here is getting a tick on ya, but I got spray for that. Come on out. It’s just me and the dogs today.
Oh, thank fuck. That sounds amazing, and Enzo is going to lose his mind.
Sebastian: You’re seriously the best, thank you.
I click on the pin Tucker sends and start driving the thirty minutes or so it will take to get to Tucker’s place.
I stop on the way and get Enzo food from The Varsity so he won’t be a raging monster with after-school hunger, and he happily munches his nuggets and fries without complaint.
As I keep driving, I realize Tucker wasn’t kidding.
He is out in the boonies. I turn off the main road onto the dirt lane that I hope leads to his facility.
I follow the GPS directions like they’re gospel, and bump along for about a quarter mile before an older, white-painted farmhouse appears through the pines.
A big red barn stands behind it with additional outbuildings I can just barely make out through the trees.
There’s a workshop looking metal building to the right of the farmhouse with a black truck parked in front, so I follow suit and park next to it.
As I get out, I hear barking, and instantly Enzo is excitedly asking questions.
“Dad, where are we?” he asks, pulling at his booster buckles before I’ve even opened his door all the way. “Are there dogs here?”
“We’re going to see lots of dogs, bud, just like you wanted,” I answer, unstrapping and helping him out of the car just as a big-ass German Shepherd lumbers up to us and starts sniffing Enzo.
My heart leaps into my throat as visions of all that could go wrong in a moment spring to my mind.
My worst fear is losing my son, and anything that trips close to that always sends my panic surging.
“Down,” a deep male voice calls from a distance. The dog instantly drops into a lying position at our feet, and Enzo reaches out to pet its head.
“Good doggy,” Enzo says, clearly delighted by this surprise off-leash greeting.
“Enzo, buddy, we wait to pet dogs until we know they’re friendly,” I say, snatching him up and away from the dog that is probably twice his size and could take his hand off with one snap of its jaws.
“Can I pet that dog? What’s its name?” Enzo excitedly asks Tucker from the safety of my arms.
“That’s Lux. She loves kids, and it’s totally okay for you to pet her,” Tucker says, stopping next to us. “Hey, buddy, nice to see you again,” he says to Enzo, holding out his fist for Enzo to bump knuckles.
Enzo returns the gesture and wiggles to be put down. I set him back on his feet now that I know there isn’t a danger with the dog. I still watch warily as Enzo squats to run his hands through the dog’s thick fur and giggles when she gently sniffs his face.
“Hey man, nice to see you again. Thanks for letting us come over at the last minute. I really appreciate it,” I say as I hold my hand out. Tucker shakes it, his palm warm and firm before he lets go.
“Not a problem. I’m happy to have y’all out, especially the little man who loves dogs as much as I do.” He squats down next to Enzo and the big German Shepherd. “Want to meet some more dogs?”
Enzo nods and jumps to his feet. “Yeah! Come on, Dad, he wants to show us more dogs!”
I laugh at my kid’s exuberance and turn to follow Tucker.
He says something to the dog, and she pops up and glues herself to his side as he starts walking.
The dog looks up at Tucker with complete trust and obedience.
That’s kind of hot. To inspire that level of devotion and have a dog that could easily maul you, look to you for every cue, says more clearly that Tucker has alpha energy than any words ever could.
Enzo runs to catch up and grabs onto Tucker’s dangling hand, intent on knowing exactly what’s happening next. Tucker looks down briefly and smiles, curling his much larger hand around Enzo’s and leading him around the side of the farmhouse as I follow a few steps behind.
It does something to my insides watching my kid trust another person like that.
He’s grown up with plenty of strangers in his life and has learned to adapt to new people fairly easily, so this isn’t a recent occurrence, but he doesn’t normally attach himself to them like this.
While he doesn’t really have the stranger danger instinct, which maybe I should worry about a little more, he accepts others as they are pretty quickly.
As I catch up to them, I hear the tail end of Tucker’s response to one of Enzo’s rapid-fire questions.
“We have ten adult dogs and eight puppies. Do you know how many that makes altogether?”
“A lot,” Enzo replies seriously.
“You’re right. That is a lot. But in numbers, it’s eighteen. What kind of dog is your favorite?”
“I like all dogs, but I think puppies are the most fun,” Enzo says, swinging their clasped hands. “They lick faces and are little, like me.”
Tucker laughs. “Yup, they do that, and they are pretty small, but they grow up fast. The puppies we have here are going to be companions for people who need a little extra help.”
“What kind of help do the dogs give?” Enzo asks, paying close attention to everything Tucker says.
I’m glued to his words also, to be honest. I liked the idea of partnering with his organization before I knew exactly what that looked like, and even more now that I’ve met him and seen his passion first-hand in the short time we’ve spent together.
Learning more about Combat Companions on family day was eye-opening.