Sit...Stay...Beg (The Dogfather Book 1)

by Roxanne St Claire

  She laughed. “He is not camera-shy.”

  “And he’ll be gone for three days. And you”—he put his mouth against her ear to whisper—“will not leave my house for three days or three nights.” He inched back and looked at her. “Don’t make me beg.”

  Instantly, Lola dropped to her backside and lifted both paws, cracking them up. “Yes, you can come, too, Lola.”

  Did she even have three days and three nights? After today, raw footage would be sent up to New York, and she’d have to be there for editing. Today was Friday, so maybe she had until Monday. Maybe.

  Her shoulders sank at the thought of leaving again, which would be even harder this time than last. She’d fallen for a dog…and this man.

  “I’m not going to let Lola go, Jessie,” he said, misreading her reaction. “I promise she’ll stay at Waterford and be my dog.” He tipped her chin to make her face him. “I’ll need a lure to bring you back again and again.”

  As if he weren’t enough of a lure.

  “And I haven’t given up on finding her owner,” Garrett added.

  “That’s not…I just…” She looked down at the dog. “I love her,” she said simply. “I don’t know how I can bear to let her go.”

  “Well.” He slipped his arms around her and pulled her in. “I guess that makes two of us.”

  Her heart folded at the words and the look in his eyes. Was he saying…

  “It worked!”

  They both spun at the sound of Daniel Kilcannon’s booming voice in the doorway. He grinned at them, a look of pure victory. “The video, I mean. We’re really doing this story. Aren’t you happy, Jessica? This is everything you wanted.”

  Except, everything she wanted was the man still holding on to her.

  “Of course I’m happy,” she said, as much to herself as the other men. “So, let’s do this right.”

  A few minutes later, Jessie had to put all that confusion out of her brain and concentrate on a job she’d dreamed of but had never actually done that often. After college, she’d worked at a TV station, but rarely got any airtime. She’d made audition after audition, interviewed at small stations, and pursued a dream, but it had been out of reach. The world of TV reporting was cutthroat, and she always ended up bleeding.

  Until now. But then her gaze drifted to Garrett, currently being situated in a wingback chair in front of the fireplace, looking handsome…and brutally uncomfortable.

  “Garrett, can you test that mic one more time and move a few inches to the left?” the producer and director of the piece, a no-nonsense silver-haired professional named Katherine Wake, instructed.

  He shifted from one side to the other, throwing a look at Jessie for help. Katherine beckoned her over. “I want you in the other chair, and we’ll do the three questions we have outlined. Garrett, your responses should be as close to the quotes in the story as possible, but if you veer off topic, that’s okay. Too far, and I’ll cut it.”

  Another look of sheer misery. “I don’t remember what I said.”

  “Just wing it,” Jessie assured him.

  “We can shoot all the questions first, then all the answers,” Katherine said.

  “’Cause that’s natural,” Garrett grumbled.

  “Nothing about this is natural,” the woman volleyed back.

  Jessie shared a long look with Garrett, seeing the agony in his eyes. She wasn’t sure what bothered him—worry he might say the wrong thing, maybe—but that look would come through to the camera. It would kill the vibe and negate her message about a man who was passionate about this work.

  “Sound check,” the man with the camera, Russell, said.

  “Garrett, state your name, birthday, marital status, and—”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Just some easy-to-remember facts,” Katherine said, her own frustration growing a little. “Your favorite color. Your first dog. Whatever. It’s a sound check. And, honestly, you need to relax. These aren’t going to be tough questions. Essentially, what this interview will do is underscore some of the work that Jessie’s already done.”

  “Then I have a better idea,” Jessie said, stepping forward and getting both their attention. “Let’s go outside.”

  Katherine balked. “The light will kill us.”

  “But this will kill him and the interview,” Jessie insisted. “Walk with us. Have Russell follow with the camera. Let us have a conversation on the grounds, with dogs, along the path, in the kennels. Anywhere he’s at home.”

  Instantly, Garrett’s expression changed. “I like that.”

  “Then that’s what we’re going to do,” Jessie said.

  Katherine’s gaze narrowed to a pinpoint. “Mac wants a talking head.”

  “Well, I don’t.” Jessie gestured for Garrett to get up. “It’s my show and my subject. Let’s do it this way.”

  Katherine looked at the videographer for help, but Russell shrugged. “I can make it work.”

  “But can it be edited?”

  “Just give it a chance,” Jessie said, already nudging them out of the house. “And the whole family should be out there. With dogs. That’s the spirit I want in this.”

  It was as if she’d waved a magic wand over Garrett; he changed completely. In less than half an hour, they were gathered in the training area. Shane was teaching a gorgeous retriever to be a therapy dog, and they got great shots of that beautiful creature. And the dog.

  Lola did her trick, and even Liam came out with two law enforcement K-9 shepherds who were as daunting as he was, letting the dogs, but not himself, get some airtime.

  Jessie spent a few minutes with Dr. K as he described the morning he woke up and decided to plant the seed of an idea in his children’s hearts and how it bloomed and grew into one of the elite canine training facilities on the East Coast.

  Finally, it was time to talk to Garrett, who’d watched his family and felt a hundred percent more comfortable.

  Jessie sat next to him on a split-rail fence that didn’t enclose much but separated two of the facility buildings. Katherine and Russell followed, and finally, the camera started rolling on her subject.

  “Comfortable now?” she asked quietly.

  “On this fence? It’s my favorite seat in the house.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He put his head back and laughed, a beautiful sight she hoped Russell caught. “You would ask why,” he said, inching closer. “I spent hours here as a kid watching Shane and Liam train dogs. And that story my dad just told? I was sitting right here on this fence that morning. I looked up there.” He pointed to a large window on the second floor. “I saw him in the window, and even from this far away, I could see the…pain on his face.”

  He turned to her, ignoring—or forgetting—the camera. “And when he came downstairs with his crazy idea that we take our home and turn it into a full-fledged facility, I had that feeling.”

  “What feeling?” she urged.

  “Same feeling when I had the idea for PetPic. That feeling that when something is right…” He paused and looked into her eyes for one, two, three heartbeats. Loud, slamming heartbeats. “It is right.”

  “And this is, er, was, right?”

  “In every way.”

  Without thinking, she gripped the fence a little tighter, willing herself not to swoon on television. Wasn’t easy. “So tell me a little bit about what that feels like,” she asked, knowing the meat of the profile would be right here, when he talked about his passions and what drove him.

  “Feels good.”

  “Having that great idea?” she prodded when he didn’t elaborate.

  “To know when something’s right.” His mouth kicked up a little. “Don’t you think?”

  So he was comfortable enough to flirt on camera, which wasn’t what she wanted right now. “Go back to that day again,” she suggested. “Tell me what you thought when your father described his vision.”

  Now that she knew the pain he’d been in that day—the pai
n of losing his mother on the heels of a woman he loved and a child he was prepared to accept as his own—his story sounded different to her ears. Richer. More real, somehow.

  Katherine stepped a little closer, but still out of camera range. “Can I throw in a few questions, Garrett? We’ll just film the answers, kind of as B-roll to pepper throughout the interview.”

  “Sure.” Then he looked at Jessie. “If that’s okay with you.”

  Up to a point. “Go ahead.”

  Katherine nodded. “Are you generally happier around dogs than people, Mr. Kilcannon?”

  He considered that with a smile. “You might say that.”

  “Do you find them to be more dependable and loyal than people?”

  He threw a look at Jessie. “Why do I feel like this is a trick question?” Then he looked back at Katherine. “Let’s just say I respect both equally.”

  “And would you—”

  Jessie put her hand up. “This really isn’t the direction I want to go,” she said. “And I don’t want to subject Garrett to a barrage of questions. In fact, I think we can do the B-roll with dogs, and it’ll be much more colorful than him talking about them.”

  Katherine angled her head as if she didn’t agree, then turned to Russell. “Let’s move into the kennels then, so bring the lights.”

  When the two of them walked away and the camera was gone, Garrett turned to Jessie and put both hands on her face. “Tell me we’re done.”

  “You are. I have to do more work with them, but you are completely off the hook.”

  “I am not.” He leaned in. “I’m on your hook, and you know it.” Lost in the moment, the closeness, the promise of a kiss, everything felt perfect. Warm. Right.

  “Get a room!” Garrett jerked hard when Shane smacked his back before they could kiss. “Better yet, I’m leaving in an hour, so you can go home.”

  “Why wait an hour?” Garrett asked, still holding on to Jessie.

  “Because it will come as no surprise to anyone, the producer lady thinks I need more airtime. I’m gonna steal your show, little brother.”

  “Have at it,” he said, hopping down and reaching to help Jessie.

  “What else does she want to talk to you about?” Jessie asked. “I thought we covered your time really well with the dogs.”

  “She wants to know about the difference between living here and living in Seattle.”

  Jessie shook her head. “Not necessary. You’re done, Shane.”

  He laughed. “You’re both dying for me to leave.” He shrugged. “You blow her off for me, then, Jessie. I’m out.”

  “How much longer will they be here?” Garrett asked when Shane left.

  “A few more hours to get pickups and B-roll and do my open and close, which we’re shooting in your dad’s office. You go to work. I’ll manage the rest of this.”

  He studied her for a long time. “You’re good at this,” he said, the compliment sounding more than a little reluctant.

  “Thanks.”

  “Wish you weren’t,” he added, thumbing her cheek lightly. “Wish you’d stay in North Carolina.”

  The words, whispered so softly they were almost lost on the breeze, fluttered over her heart and settled there. “I’ll stay…for the weekend.”

  Mac couldn’t make her come home until Monday, right?

  He gave her a look that said that wasn’t enough, then kissed her lightly and headed off to his office. She watched him walk away, not able to breathe for how much she wished it could all be easier.

  Chapter Twenty

  At four o’clock, when the video people were long gone, Garrett did a quick search for Jessie and found her in the back field, leaning against a tree, eyes closed, Lola’s head in her lap. He stood for a moment, watching their expressions of pure exhaustion and satisfaction.

  “Two tired puppies,” he mused softly.

  Lola looked up at him without moving her head, but Jessie moaned. “We’re hiding from all humankind.”

  “Not this humankind,” he said, dropping next to her.

  “That woman really irritated me,” she admitted. “After they left, I brought Lola for a walk, but we didn’t get far.” She petted the dog lovingly. “Lola soothes the savage beast.”

  He smiled at that. “I’ve seen a lot of people with dogs, Jessie, and I gotta say you two have something special.” He leaned into her. “I’m jealous.”

  She let her head drop onto his shoulder. “Your office door was closed. And, honestly, I’m so in love with her, I can’t stand it.”

  “Now I’m really jealous.”

  She lifted her head and parted her lips as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t. So he said it for her with a kiss. Lightly at first, then with a little more feeling, letting their tongues touch.

  “Well,” she sighed when they broke apart. “You do out-kiss her by a long shot.”

  “And out-comfort.” He nibbled at her jaw. “Come over tonight, and I’ll make you dinner.”

  “Yes, please.” She eased back and looked at him, more critically this time. “You really relaxed after that interview was over.”

  “I’m so not relaxed.” He let his hand slide down over her collarbone, and instantly, Lola lifted her head to give him a warning look. “What?” he asked the dog. “I like her.”

  She barked once, with a serious eye-lock.

  “Oh, she’s yours all right,” Garrett said.

  Jessie folded over to love on the dog. “You’re a good girl, you know that?” Then she whispered in her ear, “I love you best, though. You’re my number one.”

  Lola barked again, jerking her head up and standing this time, looking past them.

  “Okay, okay.” Garrett held his hands up in surrender. “She’s yours, Lola. I’ll take what I can get when you’ve had enough.”

  Lola paid no attention, still barking and ready to bolt but too well-trained to run off.

  “Maybe not,” Jessie teased, reaching for the dog. “Calm down, Lola. You’re my number—”

  She jerked away, letting out a series of barks, agitated now, her tail swishing.

  “What’s going on with her?” Jessie asked.

  “I don’t know.” Garrett leaned forward. “Lola, sit.”

  But this time, Lola ignored the order, taking off at a sprint, heading toward the main training area.

  “What?” Jessie shot up. “She never does that.”

  “Lola!” They called after her in unison.

  “Lola, stay!” Jessie yelled, breaking into a run to follow her around the side of the classroom building. “What is going on with her?”

  “Level-six distraction,” he said, taking Jessie’s hand to stop her from running as his own protective instincts kicked in. He didn’t want anything to hurt Jessie. Anything, even what he already knew would make that dog respond that way.

  She pulled away. “I have to see what’s wrong with her.”

  “I don’t think…” Together, they came around the corner to see Lola sprint past the pen and toward the main drive, bolting toward a redheaded woman. “Anything’s wrong.”

  “What is she…who is that…” Jessie put her hand over her mouth as Lola leaped in the air, throwing both paws on the woman’s chest, making her hoot and cry out as the dog licked her face and barked and wagged and practically knocked her to the ground.

  They both knew who she was.

  “Lola’s real number one,” Jessie whispered, tightening her grip on Garrett’s hand.

  He pulled their joined hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Trust me, honey, there are worse ways to say goodbye to a dog.”

  She nodded, watching the scene unfold as her eyes misted over. “I know. I’m happy for her. I’m really happy for her. Look at her.”

  But he looked at Jessie, whose very reaction to this wormed her deeper into his heart.

  She swallowed back what he imagined was a golf-ball-size lump in her throat and looked up at him. “Let’s go meet the lucky lady.”
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br />   * * *

  Sherry Barr was strung awfully damn uptight to have raised a dog as chill as Lola, but she was clearly the real owner. Lola had barely sniffed in Jessie’s direction since her preferred master showed up. The woman, tall, thin, and, yes, her hair was precisely the color and style of Jessie’s, had a brittle smile reserved exclusively for…Trisket.

  A name Jessie loathed on principle. Everything about the woman torqued Jessie, which could have been a bad case of the green-eyed monster. Or it could have been Jessie’s instincts on fire, making her sense that Sherry wasn’t being entirely forthright.

  For one thing, the woman was clearly put off by Garrett’s request that she fill out paperwork and file her identification. She’d brought a recent bill from her vet, the Rhode Island vet Garrett had been in touch with, and pointed to Lola’s reaction to her as proof she was the owner.

  Garrett agreed and assured her it would be fast and easy, urging the woman toward the administration offices and asking politely about registration. Sherry explained that she got the dog from a neighbor whose border collie hadn’t been fixed and gotten pregnant from a stray, so Sherry took one of the puppies and never got around to registering her.

  She’d been out of the country when her vet tried to contact her, but when she got home and listened to his message, she’d called the cell phone number he’d left, which was Garrett’s, but decided not to leave a message. Anxious to get Lola, she drove down here instead.

  Really? Jessie had to bite her tongue to hold back the questions. Why hadn’t she told her vet that so they’d known she was coming? Why hadn’t she checked her messages when she was out of the country? Why hadn’t she chipped her damn dog?

  “Who was supposed to take care of Lola while you were gone?” Jessie asked, trying to sound conversational and not accusatory.

  “A friend, but then she went missing right before I left.”

  “And you went out of the country?” Jessie couldn’t keep the judgment out of her voice and got a side-eye in return.

  “Would you cancel a trip to Paris because you lost your dog?”