3. “HEY JEALOUSY” #2
His gaze scanned the greens, locking in on chestnut hair piled up in that sloppy twist of misbehaved waves.
She stood behind a table, chatting with an older woman as she handed out lollipops to children passing by.
When she laughed, her voice carried over the sound of the crowd as if captured by the sea breeze.
She reminded him of the sirens they used to read about in old fishing tales—tempting, dangerous, alluring in a way men couldn’t resist.
He hadn’t come here with a set purpose, but the closer he came to that denial, the more he realized he was, once again, lying to himself.
To appear less eager, he stopped to pet a scraggly mutt trying to climb out of one of the dog pens.
“That’s Buttons. He’s a twelve-year-old Shih Tzu mix,” a young volunteer in a shelter T-shirt informed Soren. “Do you have pets? Buttons doesn’t get along with cats.”
That quickly, Soren withdrew his hand. “I’m not a dog person.”
“Cat person? We have some—”
“No thanks. I’m not a pet person.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
The kid nodded and moved on to talk to a woman with three children swooning over a litter of golden retriever puppies. Soren turned and stilled as his gaze collided with a pair of the most soulful brown eyes he’d ever seen.
The giant dog panted the moment their gazes collided, transforming his stoic expression into a wide grin.
“Well, look at you.” He crossed the lawn and approached the goliath in the large pen. He was a cluster of long legs and awkward knees beneath a smooth golden coat. “You’re a beast of a dog, aren’t you?” He checked its undercarriage. “Definitely a boy.” He laughed.
Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, hanging nearly half a foot down its chest, where his nametag glinted in the afternoon sun. “King. That’s a good name,” Soren said in a gruff, doting voice he never used before.
He didn’t have to bend far to scratch the dog’s ears. The moment he did, King nudged him with his huge head and nearly knocked Soren back a step.
“You like that, don’t you, big guy? Oh, yeah. Royal treatment for the King.”
He had a dark muzzle and brown ears against his golden coat. His fur was soft, and he stood with noble posture. For a dog, he was incredibly impressive. Probably purebred.
The volunteer from earlier walked by and Soren flagged him down. “Excuse me.”
“Yes?”
“What kind of dog is this?”
“He’s a Great Dane.”
“Thoroughbred?”
The volunteer nodded. “Pedigree bloodlines. We have all his paperwork if you’re interested.”
“How old is he?”
“I believe two, but I can check.”
“Please.” Soren went back to petting King as the volunteer searched for the paperwork. “Why are you here? You’re too handsome for this little pen.” He couldn’t stop using that Scooby Doo voice.
When the dog rested his big, heavy head on Soren’s arm, something inside of him cracked open.
“Oh, you’ve got game.”
The dog edged closer, panting and smiling up at Soren.
“Sir, I was wrong. He’s three, but that’s still pretty young for a dog his size.” The volunteer handed him a slip of paper with King’s stats. “I’m Ryan, by the way.”
“Thanks, Ryan.” Soren briefly reviewed the paperwork. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Why’s he here?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong with him. Great Danes are often surrendered due to their size.”
“He is big.”
“A hundred and sixty-two pounds, to be exact.”
Soren let out an impressive whistle. “How much does a dog like this eat?”
“They can survive off your basic large breed dog food,” Ryan explained, reaching in to scratch King’s ear. The dog ate up the attention. “Some pet owners prefer a more gourmet approach. An adult male of his size would need between seven to ten cups a day and a good amount of protein.”
“Of course he would,” Soren said with dramatic gruffness as he looked into King’s brown eyes and rubbed his ears. “Because you’re a king, aren’t you, King? You deserve the good stuff.”
Ryan cleared his throat, and Soren realized he was sweet-talking a dog. Out loud. He stopped petting King and returned to his full height.
The volunteer smiled. “So… should I start the paperwork?”
“Huh? Oh. No. I was just… He’s a good dog and all, but, as I said, I’m not a pet owner.”
“Not yet.”
“No,” he objected, but there was little conviction to the word. “I travel for work, and I don’t want to steal an opportunity for him to make a few kids happy.”
“He most likely won’t go to a house with young children. That’s if he goes to a house at all.”
“What do you mean? He’s the best-looking dog on the lot.”
“Oh, I agree, but his breed complicates things. It takes a capable owner to manage a Great Dane of his size. He’s been moved around dog pounds his whole life. We try to keep him in no-kill shelters, but we’re limited to how long we can keep an animal.”
“What the hell is a no-kill shelter?”
“It just means humane—like ours. We don’t euthanize animals.”
Soren scowled at Ryan and stepped protectively between him and King. “Are you telling me someone would kill this majestic beast?”
“Not us, but he’ll eventually move to another shelter if he’s not gaining interest here. King’s been with us for ten months and hasn’t had much luck. We would, of course, place him with another humane shelter, but after that… It’s out of our control.”
Soren’s scowl darkened. “You can’t let that happen. Someone has to take him.”
“I hope all our animals find their fur-ever home.”
Soren chuckled. Fur-ever home. That was the first time he’d heard that. But then he looked back at King and his humor died. The thought of anything happening to this beautiful dog was unbearable. “How much?”
Ryan’s eyes widened. “You’re interested?”
“Let’s call it curious.”
He reviewed the paperwork. “The cost covers the veterinarian fees, vaccinations, microchipping, and neutering surgery, so it goes by weight. He could be yours for four hundred dollars.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, there’s the ongoing expense of caring for him.”
He had no idea what dogs cost, but he assumed an animal like King would be around ten grand, not four hundred. It seemed even crueler to walk away now when they were practically giving the dog away.
King nudged his hand when it stopped scratching, and Soren continued to pet his ears.
“He seems to really like you.”
“All right, all right,” Soren pulled back his hand and waved away the flattery. “Let’s just take a minute to get a grip on reality again. I didn’t come here to buy a dog.”
“Adopt. You’d be saving a life.”
“What do they pay you to say shit like that?”
“I’m a volunteer. I don’t get paid.”
Soren gave the kid a side glance. “Well, you’re good at this.”
“So…is that a yes?”
He was really working him. “You get some sort of commission?”
“No, just the sense of a job well done.”
Soren rolled his eyes as the weight of guilt doubled, cursing under his breath. He could not have a dog. He had no idea what to do with one. And a dog this size would be more like living with a horse.
He looked back at King, attempting to glare at the animal and failing miserably when the dog once again looked up at him with those soulful eyes.
“Jesus.” Soren twirled a finger in the air. “Wrap him up.”
A victorious smile spread across the kid’s face as he rushed to get a leash and the necessary paperwork. Ten minutes later, Soren was attached to a hundred-and-sixty-two-pound sack of fur and holding a doggy bag full of instructions.
“What the hell did I just do?”
King panted happily at his hip.
“First pair of leather-soled shoes you eat, and it’s off to the sausage factory with you, understand?”
King closed his mouth and whimpered.
“Shit. Do you understand?” He gave him a reaffirming scratch behind the ear. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Um, please tell me you’re just holding that for someone.”
Soren winced, then slowly turned to face Jocelyn. “Hey.”
Her eyes dropped to the doggy bag in his hand, drifted to King, then returned to Soren’s face. “Did you adopt a horse?”
He gestured to the dog. “This is King. And I’ll have you know, he’s a purebred Great Dane pedigree—unlike that psychotic rodent you own.”
She scoffed. “Cordelia is a beautiful angel. How dare you?”
Just then, Cordelia’s yapping bark spiked from a distance.
Soren arched a brow. “I believe your angel is singing.” He cupped a hand to his ear. “Yup. Sounds just like harps playing.”
She rolled her eyes. “What the hell are you going to do with a dog that size?”
“Feed it. The kid said he likes milk bones and chihuahuas.”
“You know, Soren, getting a dog that big seems like you’re overcompensating for something.”
He took a small step forward, closing the distance. Voice low, he growled, “I think you of all people know I don’t have anything to compensate for.”
Her jaw ticked, but before he could answer, Ryan returned.
“One more thing, Mr. Hawthorne.” He handed him a coupon. “You get thirty percent off King’s first grooming visit if you take him before the end of the month.”
“Oh, good,” Jocelyn chimed in. “He needs all the financial help he can get.”
“Ignore her. She has Tourette’s, among other personality disorders. The doctors are still trying to diagnose her.” Soren took the coupon. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to check them out.”
“Thank you. I hope you’re happy with him. The big ones are challenging and rarely get adopted, but once they find someone courageous enough to take them in, they prove to be incredibly loyal companions. I think you two are a good match.”
It was strange how much the kid’s faith flattered him. It was enough to ensure he didn’t let the kid or the dog down. “Thanks. I think so, too.”
When Ryan walked away, he turned back to Jocelyn, who was gaping at him.
“What?”
“You’re really taking him home? You know dogs are messy, right? They smell, and poop, and this one’s probably going to steal food from your cabinets.” She laughed. “What are you going to do when it tries to sleep with you?”
“Why would I sleep with a dog?”
“Because it’s a dog, Soren. They bond with their person, and then they never leave you alone.”
“Right. And as a dog owner, I plan to get him his own room with his own bed.”