New Leash on Life(21)
Her dark brows furrowed. “Who is this partner and how could they help me?”
“Her name’s Daisy.”
“Daisy. What does she do?”
A slow smile pulled. “She walks. She obeys. She barks. She might lick you, but only if she likes you.”
“Shane.” She angled her head and let out a sigh. “Fine. You win. I’m not a dog person. Guilty as charged, Counselor.”
“Exactly.”
“What does that mean? You want to change me? Because not everyone is cut out to be a dog person, as I’m sure you know.”
“I do know that.” He leaned forward and took one of her hands in his. “But dog people can smell other dog people.”
She curled her lip.
“Not that dogs smell,” he added. “But, if you won’t even say hello to a sweet ol’ retriever in the square, you don’t stand a shot at winning this. And you sure as hell don’t get my support.”
She opened her mouth to talk—to argue, he’d bet—then shut it, smart enough to see the wisdom in his thinking.
“And I’ll be honest, there’s something in it for me, and it’s not changing you into a dog person.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“I need a home for this dog, for about a month or so, until her owner is healthy enough to take her back.”
She looked confused. “Don’t you run a dog shelter?”
“Daisy’s never been in a kennel in her life. She’s a house dog and lives with a woman I know.”
She lifted a brow. “Someone special?”
He almost laughed at the idea of Marie Boswell, a seventy-year-old widow with a passion for saving dogs, being what Chloe thought she was. “Very special,” he assured her.
She didn’t say anything for a long time, but she was considering the idea, he could tell. Points for not saying no outright. “I have issues with dogs,” she said bluntly.
Clearly. But he understood that, all too well. “Have you had trouble with one? Been bitten?”
“No.” She shook her head, then looked down at her perfectly folded napkin square before meeting his eyes again. “I don’t think they’re clean.”
“Oh, is that all? A good dog’ll cure you of a little germophobia.”
“Look, I’m not germophobic. If I were really that crazy, I couldn’t do this.” She put her hand on his this time, adding pressure. “I couldn’t shake hands with strangers, and I sure as hell couldn’t have kissed you on the mouth with tongue the other night.” She took her hand away and started stroking that napkin again, quiet for a bit.
“I know what crazy looks like,” she said softly. “I’m not crazy. I do, however, like things…sanitary. Clean. Safe. I was sick a lot as a kid, had a ton of allergies, and I…protect myself.”
He glanced down and watched those lean fingers shred one side of the napkin, and something slipped inside his heart. Oh, that need for control might run deeper than he even imagined. And dogs could test that, for sure. Help it, too, but she hadn’t asked for his help, and maybe he was the one making wrong assumptions here, and just because he believed the world should love dogs like he did didn’t make it so.
“You won’t have to protect yourself from Daisy,” he said quickly. “But I’m not going to force you if you don’t like the idea.”
“I don’t hate the idea.” She let out a soft sigh. “Would it get you to change your vote?”
“If it did, I’d be guilty of graft and corruption. And you’d be guilty of bribery.”
She smiled. “Then I’d need a good lawyer.”
He reached for her hand to stop the napkin shredding. “Why don’t you just meet Daisy and see what you think?” He ran a finger along her knuckles and watched some chill bumps rise on her arm.
“I don’t think I’ll ever…” She glanced to where he had been with Jackson. “Rub them or let them lick me.”
“You don’t have to. Simply have her live with you, and walk her around every day while you make friends with people who live here. I’ll help you get used to her and learn commands. I am a dog whisperer, you know.”
She swallowed. “I think you’re just a whisperer.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Daisy,” she sighed. “She sounds sweet. I’ll meet her, but no promises.”
“She’s amazing. And you’re going to love her.” He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “I bet you’ll even let her kiss you.”
“Not likely.”
“How about me?”