Puppy Love, Volumes 1 to 13 Read online

  “Funny story. But first…” He ran over to his truck and came back with a small pack of tissues. “Here.”

  She smiled weakly. “Thank you. Sorry I’m such a mess.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You look great.”

  Katie rolled her eyes, but her smile brightened. “So, what brings you here?”

  “Well…” He scratched at his eyebrow. “See, I was getting ready to check out of the hotel this morning, but figured I better take Boomer out one last time. And we were walking down the hallway towards that back entrance when one of the maids stepped out of a room ahead of us holding this ratty, dirty purple thing pinched between her fingers.”

  “Gunner’s toy? She had Gunner’s toy? Did you…?” She stared at him, begging, hoping he’d grabbed it.

  He shrugged and blushed slightly. “I think that’s what it is. Either that or I rescued someone else’s really disgusting purple dog toy from being thrown in the trash and drove all the way here to see if it was yours when it really wasn’t.”

  She lunged forward and hugged him. “You are the best person on the planet. Can I see it?”

  He walked back to his truck and grabbed a plastic bag. Katie watched his every move, not daring to believe this was actually happening.

  “Here you go.”

  She snatched the bag from him and opened it.

  It was the toy. She collapsed against the bumper of the van. “Thank you so much. You don’t even understand…” She hugged the toy against her chest. “It was such a horrible day at work and then I thought I’d lost Gunner’s toy and…I owe you. Anything you need. Just ask.”

  He grinned at her. “Anything? Well…Now that you mention it…”

  She bit her lip, realizing that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to offer someone she barely knew anything he might want.

  Chris studied her. “How good are you at sales? Because my latest salesperson just gave their two weeks’ notice. Any chance you’d be willing to give up the traveling life and come work for me?”

  “But I don’t know anything about signs.”

  He shrugged. “That can be learned.”

  “But I’d have to move.”

  He nodded. “You would. But not that far. And you wouldn’t have to travel. What do you say? I can offer salary for the first three months and then commission plus a small base from there on out.”

  Katie licked her lips. It was crazy to even consider something like this.

  “You can bring Gunner to work if you want. Or work from home part-time. Or both.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “This sounds too good to be true.”

  “It’s not.”

  She studied him. Could she trust him?

  Then again, what did she have to lose? She already hated her job. And with the way Bruce had been talking there was no guarantee she’d even have a job next week.

  At least this way she could keep Gunner.

  “So?” He quirked one eyebrow at her.

  “Okay.”

  “Great. Now, where’s Gunner? Boomer’s dying for another good run and we could both do with some dinner if you’re up for it.”

  * * *

  Three months later, Katie hummed to herself as she finished sprinkling parmesan on the spaghetti and meatballs she’d made for dinner as a thank-you for everything.

  Chris sat at the table, watching her with that steady green gaze that still made her heart flip. Boomer and Gunner lay side-by-side just outside the kitchen, watching with avid interest as she carried the food to the table.

  It hadn’t been easy, selling her dream home, moving to a new city, learning a completely new product, adjusting to a new company. But Chris had been there for her the whole time, steady as a rock, working with her day in and day out, helping her get settled in both at home and at work.

  He’d never tried anything in that time, never asked her out or leaned in to kiss her. Just been the supportive friend and boss she’d needed.

  It was good—it made her more sure of her place here. But at the same time it kind of made her sad, because the more she came to know him the more she saw what an exceptional man he was.

  But at least she had his friendship.

  That was…something.

  Chris spooned up food for both of them and slid a bowl over to her, his hand lingering for a moment. “Katie?”

  “Yes?” She glanced at him and then away, still unsettled by how strongly she felt drawn to him every time their eyes met.

  “I, um…I should’ve probably said this to you the day we met. Or the day I offered you the job. Or…well, any day since then, but…um…”

  She tilted her head to the side, too scared to breathe. “What? What is it?”

  “Well.” He took a deep breath. “It’s just that…I adore you. I think you are gorgeous and smart and kind and I love how much you love Gunner and, well, I know this is awkward because I’m now your boss and everything, but I’m in love with you. And every single day I spend around you I just fall deeper in love with you. I thought you should know.”

  He looked down at his bowl of spaghetti, his cheeks slightly red and tried to fork up some spaghetti but failed.

  She stared at him, her mouth open in surprise.

  “Chris?” She brushed the back of his hand with her fingertips. “Chris, look at me, please?”

  He clenched his jaw and forced himself to look at her.

  She held his gaze. “I’m in love with you, too.”

  “You are?”

  She nodded.

  “Ha.” He pounded the table with his fist. Gunner and Boomer barked as the silverware rattled.

  They both laughed.

  Chris studied her face. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely.”

  He pulled her out of her chair and spun her around the room, ending their little dance with a soft kiss.

  Katie’s heart soared with joy.

  * * *

  A year later they were married in the backyard of the house they’d bought together. It was a two-story home painted robin’s egg blue with white trim and enough bedrooms for a few kids with a white picket fence, a big yard for the pups, and an apple tree in the corner.

  They said their vows under the tree’s branches, next to the spot where Chris had carved C&K 4Ever. While their family and friends watched and Boomer and Gunner sat nearby, Chris pulled Katie close and kissed her softly. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

  “And I love you.”

  As they turned to the crowd, hand-in hand, she realized she’d be forever grateful to that awful job and that awful boss that had led her to the most perfect man in the world.

  And to Gunner, for being there with her through it all.

  Puppy Love Homecoming

  Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the quiet crying of the puppy in its crate on the other side of the room, but the sound went on and on, never-ending. It was worse than nails on a chalkboard, getting under her skin, demanding that she wake up at whatever too-early hour of the morning it was.

  She slowly opened one eye just enough to see the chocolate lab pup with his nose pressed against the bars and sad green eyes fixed on her face.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late. He’d seen her.

  Jackson jumped to his feet and started spinning in circles, yipping excitedly, his tail battering the sides of the crate.

  Groggily, she reached for her phone to check the time. Six o’clock. Too early for her by a long shot, but obviously not for him.

  She debated sinking back into the sofa and sleeping a little longer, but, as if he could read her mind, Jackson started scratching at the door to the crate, his high-pitched cries escalating to a point where she felt them in her bones more than heard them.

  “Okay, okay. I’m coming.” She dragged herself across the room and let him out of the kennel, nudging him towards the doggie door to the back yard while she headed towards the kitc
hen.

  Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d be able to brew a pot of coffee before he came back.

  But no. She hadn’t taken more than two steps before he was back inside, tail wagging, barking excitedly.

  “Go outside, you goof. Last thing I need is for you to mess in the house. Mom’ll kill me if you pee on her brand-new carpet.”

  Assuming her mom was ever going to come home again…She winced trying not to think about her mother’s battered face and broken bones. Man, she hated drunk drivers.

  Jackson stood there, waiting, his eyes fixed on her face.

  She shook her head. “Fine. Fine. Let’s go outside, shall we?”

  She slid the glass patio door open, waited for Jackson to bound past her, and then followed at a more leisurely pace. It was chilly this early in the morning and late in the year. She rubbed at her arms, wishing she’d thought to at least throw the blanket around her shoulders.

  Jackson immediately peed—thankfully—but then proceeded to start digging at something in the ground right at the base of the fence.

  “Stop that!” She ran over to him, her socks getting wet from the grass, but he ignored her as he threw large chunks of dirt behind him.

  She scooped him up and headed towards the house, but he wriggled so much she had to put him back down almost immediately.

  As he raced around the yard, sniffing and peeing on things, she wondered what she’d done to deserve this. Bad enough her mother was in the hospital with so many broken bones it was a miracle she’d survived the car accident. Worse that only a month before her mother had decided to buy Jackson and now she was stuck watching him.

  Carrie had never had a dog before; she didn’t know what to do. She sat on the step, shaking her head in despair.

  Jackson bounded up to her, planted his muddy paws on her chest, and started licking her face. “Ew. Gross. Stop. Stop.”

  She pushed him away, but he was so cute standing there, wagging his tail, that she relented almost immediately.

  As he jumped towards her once more, she stood. “Why don’t we feed you?”

  His head perked up and he shot back inside, the doggie door banging in its frame from the force of his passage. Carrie closed her eyes for a brief moment, wishing she was still in the city living her life instead of stuck back home with a puppy and a hospital-bound mother, before following him inside.

  Life had been so perfect. She’d been planning a nice tropical vacation to the Bahamas in January with her two best girlfriends and was on track for a promotion sometime next year. And she’d been getting along with her mom, too, despite the lack of a boyfriend or, better yet, a husband. They’d spoke once a day and she’d come home for a couple days at Thanksgiving and Christmas—just long enough to do right by her mom but not so long the place could smother her with its small-town charm.

  Or memories of her dad who’d passed away the year before. She rested her hand on his old coffee pot for a brief moment, glancing around the kitchen at all the little things that made it seem like he was still there. The clock he’d made, his chipped coffee cup, his favorite chair, the seat indented from years of him sitting there reading the paper.

  She’d had it all worked out. Until one drunk driver changed it all and the hospital called at midnight on a Tuesday to tell her her mom was in serious condition and might not make it through the night.

  She’d packed up and left for home ten minutes later. She loved her job, but at the end of the day family was priority one. If Dave hadn’t let her work remote, she would’ve quit without batting an eye, promotion or not.

  It was her mom. Her last living parent. She had to be there for her.

  She just hadn’t thought it all through, that’s all. She’d thrown the basics in a backpack—toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, phone charger, a spare pair of jeans, a couple tops, and some undies—and rushed out the door, driving the six hours home without stopping for more than gas and caffeine.

  Now, three days in, she was out of anything to wear and stuck at home with the pup while her mother recovered from her latest surgery—a knee replacement—at the regional hospital half an hour away.

  She wanted to be at the hospital with her mom, but she couldn’t just leave the puppy on his own. All she had to do was look at the decimated flower bed to know how that would turn out.

  She poured food in Jackson’s bowl and turned to set it down, almost stepping on him. “Jackson!”

  He stared up at her with those green eyes of his, his ears drooping slightly like she’d just taken his favorite toy away. How was it possible for him to look so sad so easily? She knew he was doing it to manipulate her, but she couldn’t stay mad when he looked so darned cute.

  “Here.” She put the bowl on the floor and he pounced, pushing it all over the kitchen as he snarfed down every single piece in record time.

  Carrie rubbed her face. She desperately needed coffee and someone to look after Jackson for her.

  First things first: the coffee. Lots of it. Black. No sugar.

  * * *

  By the time the coffee was done, Jackson was nowhere to be found. She walked through the house, pausing to change out of her wet socks and into a pair of her mom’s, but didn’t find him.

  Which meant he must be outside. Again.

  She set her steaming cup on the counter and stepped onto the patio. Sure enough. He was ankle deep in her mother’s petunia’s digging for all he was worth. “Jackson!” she shouted, hands on hips.

  He looked up and barreled at her full-speed, muddy paws and all, tail wagging a mile a minute.

  “No. Wait.” She put out her hands to stop him, but he launched himself right at her and she found herself once more covered in muddy paw prints.

  She wanted to be mad, but he was so adorable, she just couldn’t. She laughed as she struggled to get him off. “Okay, okay. Enough.” She pushed him back. “What am I going to do with you, you crazed little fur ball?”

  He thumped his tail on the ground, watching her expectantly.

  “I wonder…There has to be some place that watches dogs in this town, doesn’t there? With all the tourists that pass through you’d think someone would’ve wised up to the opportunity.”

  She grabbed her phone and did an internet search for “doggie day care” and “Connorville.”

  Nothing. Probably because Connorville only had about a thousand residents. She tried Shelbyville—the next town over, only ten minutes away—and lucked out. There was one listing for The Pampered Pooch. It even offered doggie massages. And acupuncture.

  Did people really pay for doggie acupuncture? It seems they did.

  “What do you think, bud? You up to hanging out with ‘highly-trained canine specialists’ for the day?”

  Jackson, who had settled down next to her on the porch while she searched, wagged his tail.

  “You don’t know what I’m saying, do you you knucklehead?”

  He wagged his tail again, thumping the wood of the deck so hard she wondered how he managed not to hurt himself.

  She glanced at the website. The prices they listed were atrocious, but what choice did she have? Maybe she could ask for a quantity discount or something since it’d probably be a couple weeks before her mom was able to return home and Carrie would likely need to drop him off for at least a few hours every day.

  “Alright, bud. Let’s give this place a shot…”

  * * *

  As Carrie pulled Jackson’s leash down from the hook by the door, he ran through the house, picking up each and every toy he owned and then dropping it again, spinning around in excitement, yipping and barking, his nails skittering across the wooden floor of the kitchen.

  She had to wrestle him to a stop to get the collar on him at last and then he practically dragged her across the living room to the front door. “You, my friend, are a terror. Maybe I’ll just drop you off, come home, and take a nap. I certainly need it after chasing you around for the last hour.”

  Jackson cocked his head to
the side as if listening to her, but he didn’t look the least bit apologetic.

  “Come on. Let’s go check this place out.”

  * * *

  Carrie had to admit she was impressed as she pulled into the parking lot. The sign was a bit cheesy—it had a large cartoon drawing of a puppy’s face that took up one whole side—and the tagline wasn’t much better, “Your pup’s home away from home,” but the place was neat and clean with a big yard to the right of the main door where dogs were chasing each other or lounging under one of the big elms under the supervision of three separate attendants, all dressed in matching turquoise polo shirts and jeans.

  Jackson tugged on his leash as soon as she set him down, dragging her towards the fence, but she managed to wrestle him through the front door instead. They found themselves in a quiet lobby with a white tile floor and large black and white framed photos of happy, active dogs along the walls.

  An attractive girl—maybe sixteen or seventeen—smiled at them from behind a large turquoise reception desk with a white counter. Carrie was starting to notice a theme. She glanced around. Sure enough. The doors into the back of the building and window frames were also turquoise.

  The girl came around the counter and knelt down in front of Jackson. “Well, hello there, Jackson. How are you?” She smiled up at Carrie. “You must be Ms. Clopper’s daughter. Welcome. How’s she doing?”

  Jackson rolled onto his back and let the girl rub his belly, wiggling in pure puppy enjoyment.

  “Um, okay. She’s had a few surgeries already and is due for a few more before they’re all done with her, but she’s holding up well enough, considering.”

  Carrie frowned. It seemed Jackson was a regular camper. Why hadn’t her mother mentioned this place to her before? It was the type of thing they’d laugh about together.

  The girl stood back up and Jackson barked at her to keep petting him, but she moved behind the counter again. “My cousin was one of the state troopers who worked the scene. Said it was pretty bad. At least they found the guy the next day. Worked all through the night tracking him down.”