by Mia Carson
I turned my attention back to the most immediate problem. “You need some help?” I asked, holding my hands out in a silent offer of support.
“No. What I need is for you to learn to control your dog.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how strong he was. He’s not my dog. I’m dog-sitting for my boss this weekend. I’m really sorry. Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?” I forced myself to stop jabbering.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No, I’m okay. Let’s get your dog before he runs off,” he said as he looked toward the two guys but turned back to face me. “Thom. Thom Gregg.”
“Carolyn McDowell.”
A smile cracked his lips as he shook his head and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I took his hand. “Same here. I just wish blood wasn’t involved. Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked as I looked at his knee. The amount of blood running down his leg worried me.
“No, I’ll live. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m fine. I think you got the worst of it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I turned my attention to the dog. “Hoover! Come here!” I called, clapping my hands. He ignored me and chased the Frisbee again.
“Hoover?”
I looked at Thom as I twisted my lips to the side. “I didn’t name him, but it’s a good name. The damn dog will eat anything. Hoover!”
One of the guys took Hoover’s leash and held it. “This your dog?” he shouted.
“Yeah. Sorry,” I yelled back as I started toward them, Thom limping beside me.
“No problem. I think he likes playing Frisbee.”
I took the leash when I reached them. “Thank you. Sorry to bother you.” I started pulling on the leash. “Hoover! Come!”
“Dude! Do you know your leg is bleeding?” the man asked.
Thom looked at his leg with exaggerated scrutiny. “’Tis but a flesh wound,” he said in a passible British aristocratic accent.
The dog didn’t want to go and strained against the leash. When the man threw the frisbee, Hoover gave chase, and had I not let go of the leash, I was certain he’d have dragged me down.
“Stupid dog,” I growled.
Thom set his jaw and stomped after the dog, the other man holding the Frisbee until Thom arrived. Thom picked up the leash, jerked it tight and started back toward me. Hoover still didn’t want to go, but he was no match for Thom, and after a couple of steps of being dragged, he started trotting beside him. He walked right past me, the dog in step with him, and I turned to follow. Hoover made a final lunge to get away when the two men resumed their game, but the dog quickly gave up the idea of escape and walked with us. I couldn’t be mad at him. He looked up at me with adoring eyes, his tongue hanging out as he panted.
As we approached the path, Thom adjusted his trajectory toward a boy of about ten sitting on a bicycle.
“Whose dog, and what happened to your leg?” the boy asked.
“Her dog,” Thom explained, handing me the leash. “I scraped my knee when the dog knocked me down.”
I gripped the lead tightly, sensing Hoover wanted to return to the Frisbee game. Thom must have seen me tense because he quickly took the lead from me and glared at the dog. “Sit!” he ordered. The dog ignored him. “Sit!” he ordered again, pushing down on the dog’s rear hips. The dog sat.
“Are you okay?” the boy asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Bailey, this is…”
“Carolyn,” I supplied when Thom faltered. I held my hand out. “Nice to meet you, Bailey.”
Bailey took my hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Carolyn.”
I smiled. Such a polite kid. “Just Carolyn.”
Thom handed me the leash again. “You got him?”
“I think. I’m so sorry again. If you want to send me any bills, I’ll—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted. “Accidents happen. The owner needs to teach his dog to mind, though.”
“He does pretty good at home. I guess he doesn’t get out a lot.”
“Well, nice to meet you anyway,” Thom said, nodding his head. “Bailey, let’s go. I need to get this blood washed off.”
I started to move off, relieved that Thom was such an understanding man. As soon as I moved, Hoover bounced to his feet and began to pull me toward the Frisbee game again. I didn’t even have time to yell before Thom was at my side, grabbing the leash and dragging Hoover to a stop. He jerked the dog around.
“Stop!” he snarled at the dog, glaring at the animal until the dog seemed to wilt and came to him, his head hanging low. Thom reached down and scratched Hoover’s ears.
“Wow!” I said, impressed.
“You just need to show them who’s boss. Want to walk with me? There’s a bench and water fountain up here. I’m going to have a seat and wipe up the blood. Maybe once he can’t see those guys playing Frisbee, he’ll behave.”
“I’d love to. Thanks. And thanks for helping me there. He’s just too big for me to hold.”
“No problem.”
I noticed he was walking with a bit of a limp. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re limping.”
He snorted. “Does it hurt? Yeah. But I’ll live. I’ll be back to running tomorrow.”
“You run often?”
“Every day, between three and five. Bailey and I come to the park, and he rides his bike while I run.”
“Dedicated.”
He smiled, dragging Hoover when he tried to stop. “I don’t know about that, but it gives Bláithín a break and it gives Bailey and me some time together.”
I nodded, wanting to know who Bláithín—he’d pronounced it Blaw-heen—was, but it was none of my business. I supposed she wasn’t a wife because he wasn’t wearing a ring. Hoover tried to stop again, and Thom kept right on walking, dragging the dog until he trotted to catch up. He must have seen my interest.
“I’m walking him, he’s not walking me,” he explained. “Pretty soon he’ll figure that he can either walk with me or be dragged.”
“You seem to know a lot about training dogs.”
He shrugged. “Not really. Just common sense. Dogs are pack animals. Once they figure out who’s in charge, they mind better.”
We walked a bit further, and every time Hoover stopped, Thom pulled him along. He didn’t jerk or hurt the animal, he simply ignored the fact the dog stopped. A couple of times he had to really dig in and pull, but he never stopped moving. By the time we reached the bench, perhaps a quarter of a mile from where we started, Hoover would stop, but he always trotted to catch up before Thom started dragging him. To say I was impressed at how quickly Thom established control over the dog would be an understatement.
While I held Hoover, Thom wet his hand at the fountain and scrubbed at the blood, repeating the process until it was almost entirely gone. He then went to work on his knee, hissing softly as he gently washed the blood away. When he pulled his shirt off and held it under the water, I nearly shit.
With his shirt on he was just a guy with nice legs and ass, but goddamn was he built. He wasn’t huge, but he had a runner’s body with a little more bulk and good definition. I looked him over again as he wrung the shirt out and moved to sit on the bench. As he dabbed at his knee, I reevaluated him.
He was a mess from running, still sweaty with his brown hair clumped and wet, but I imagined him looking like that after a good, hard fucking. Suddenly he was sexy as shit. He had a round face that made him appear open and approachable, the type of guy moms loved. With a small nose, friendly brown eyes, and that body, he looked like the type of guy a girl would love to go out on a date with because he’d be fun, and then take home and fuck stupid.
Bailey coasting to a stop in front of us broke me out of my daydream. Rock was the last man to touch me, and that was three months ago. Until this very moment, I hadn’t missed a man’s touch, but damned if I wasn’t missing it now.
�
��You okay?” Bailey asked, watching as his dad carefully swabbed his knee.
“Will be.”
Bailey’s face twisted, his lip curling up. “Does it hurt?”
“A little,” Thom confirmed.
“Looks like it hurts.”
Thom snickered. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Anytime,” Bailey said with a grin before cycling away.
“He’s right. It does look like it hurts,” I added. “I’m really sorry. I feel terrible about what happened.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, standing up. “Like I said, accidents happen.”
“You come here every day?”
“To the park? Yeah. Why?”
“If I bring the dog back tomorrow, would you mind doing some more of that dog whisper stuff you do? Show me how to handle this beast.”
He grinned. “Sure. Want me to walk you to your car and give you a few pointers?”
I couldn’t help but smile, but not for the pointers on the dog. “Sure!”
We walked along the path with me holding the leash. When Hoover stopped, I kept going. Before it was a struggle to get him moving again, but as soon as the lead snapped tight, he followed on the trot. Thom and I talked about nothing, filling the silence with idle chit-chat. He’d started out with is shirt off, but as we approached the big open field where he was knocked down, he slipped the shirt back on.
“Damn, this shirt is cold!” he exclaimed as he rolled his shoulders.
I was disappointed, but it was still wet, so I was able to enjoy a little eye candy. “I imagine.”
Hoover stopped again, and when I tugged the leash a little, he ran past me, slowing to walk just before he hit the end of the lead.
“See?” Thom asked. “Now you’re the boss.”
“The real test will be when we get to where those guys were playing Frisbee.”
“I think you’ll be surprised. If he starts to pull, you dig in and try to jerk him inside out, then tell him to come, stop, whatever, like you’re mad. You hold your ground until he comes to apologize.”
“Like he did with you?”
“Right.”
As we got close, Thom’s hand hovered over mine on the leash. As expected, Hoover began to pull. I braced and pulled with everything I had in me, jerking the dog’s head around toward me, causing him to yelp softly in pain or surprise.
“No!” I growled loudly, putting as much anger into my voice as I could muster. I glared at the dog, holding his eyes until his head lowered and he licked his lips as he came to me, clearly ashamed. I decided to go all in.
“Sit!” I ordered in the same harsh voice. When he didn’t, I pushed on his rear end like Thom had. “Sit!” Hoover sat.
“Now tell him he’s a good boy in a happy voice,” Thom said.
“Good boy!” I praised, filling my voice with delight as I scratched Hoover enthusiastically all around his head and neck. He stood up. “Sit!” The moment his butt hit the ground I started scratching all over again. “Amazing!”
“You’re in charge now.”
“Come,” I said to start Hoover walking. “You don’t mind helping me with him tomorrow?”
“Nah. Bring him back and we’ll walk him. A tired dog is a good dog.”
“Thomas Gregg, dog whisperer.”
“Hardly.”
He followed me to my car and Hoover knew what was expected. As soon as I tipped the seat forward he hopped into the back. “Thanks again for helping me with Hoover.”
He nodded. “My pleasure. It might save someone else from getting knocked down.”
His grin was teasing, but my face heated in shame. “Yeah,” I muttered, unable to meet his gaze.
“Still, could be worse,” he added, his smile spreading. “It could have been a guy lying on me.”
“Oh stop!” I scolded.
“No, it’s true. If I’m going to get knocked down, I’d much rather it be by a woman. They’re so much softer and cuddly.”
A smile twitched at my lips. “I still feel bad.”
He winked. “Don’t. It’s not often I get tackled to the ground by a woman. I kind of liked it.”
I decided he could go on all day, but Hoover was panting like a bellows in my car. “I need to go before the dog passes out from the heat.”
“See you tomorrow. I’ll meet you here at three.”
“See you then,” I said as I dropped into my car.
I started the Ford and set the air conditioning to ‘frost bite’ to give Hoover some relief. As I backed out of the parking space, Thom waved in parting, the motion of his hand reminding me of how the Pope and the Queen of England wave to their adoring throngs. When I pulled away and he could no longer see me, I finally let myself smile. Thom was a nice guy. That’s what I needed in my life, a nice guy, not an asshole like Rock.
Thom
I normally parked in the rear parking lot near the recreation center because that’s where four different trails converged. I ran them all, a total of about ten miles, and when I finished, I was at my car. Today, however, I pulled into the parking lot near the ball fields where Carolyn parked yesterday. As I put the SUV into park, I wondered if she’d show up or if she was just feeding me a line yesterday. I’d give her fifteen minutes and then Bailey and I would be on our way. The weather was a little cooler today than yesterday and I was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. If she didn’t show, I had my running shorts on under my pants and a ragged T-shirt in the car I could change into.
I was sitting Bailey’s bike on the ground when I heard the rumble of a V8 approaching. I turned and smiled as Carolyn’s blue Mustang rumbled to a stop two spaces over, a shaggy white head appearing in the back seat.
“You can take off,” I muttered to Bailey. “We’ll take the same path, but we’re walking, so stay close.”
“You got it, Dad,” he said as he rode away.
“How’s your knee?” Carolyn said as she opened the door.
“Fine,” I said as I approached, hunched over to the right, dragging my foot along the ground like my leg was broken, my right arm hanging limp at my side. “What really hurts is my shoulder.”
She giggled, a very pleasant sound. “Stop. You’re making me feel guilty. Do your knee and shoulder really hurt?”
“Not too much,” I said as I straightened and stopped clowning around. “How do you feel?”
“Okay. A little sore,” she said as she got Hoover out of the car. “At least I wasn’t bleeding.”
“How’d he do yesterday?” I asked with a nod at the dog.
“Fine. Of course, he didn’t give me any trouble until I brought him to the park, so the real test is about to start.”
“You’re going to behave yourself today, aren’t you?” I asked as I crouched down in front of the bear-like dog and scratched him good. He looked at me, his mouth hanging open as if he were smiling. “Shall we?” We started walking. “How far do you want to go?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. How far do you run?”
“Ten miles.”
“Ten miles?” she exclaimed in a way that made me grin. “I don’t think I’m up for that. How about the loop this path makes? If I remember right, that’s about three miles, according to the map.”
“Okay. The big loop it is.”
We walked along in a slightly awkward silence. Carolyn was so damned pretty she made my heart beat faster. She stood about 5’5”, maybe 5’6”, with short, dark brown hair and big brown eyes. She had a lush figure that made me think naughty thoughts, and her pixie nose added cuteness to the list of her appealing physical attributes. Today she was wearing a double layer of shirts, a white stretchy looking shirt underneath that showed off the swell of her breasts, with a blue denim shirt over the top buttoned half-way up. Tight jeans and brown ankle boots completed her look.
As the silence grew more protracted, I decided I needed to say something, anything, to get the conversational ball rolling. “So, Ms. McDowell,” I said, trying to
impress her that I remembered her name, “are you from around here? I haven’t see you at the park before.” I left out the part that I’d remember someone who looked like her if I had.
She looked at me, her eyes merry. “If you’re going to call me Ms. McDowell, I’m going to have to call you Mr. Thomas.”
“It’s Gregg,” I corrected with a ghost of a smile.
“That’s what I mean. I’m not calling you by your first name if you’re going to call me by my last.”
I snickered. “No. The name is Thomas Gregg, not Greg Thomas. I know, it’s confusing with two first names. I’ve been dealing with it my entire life.” Her flush made my smile grow. “How about I call you Carolyn and you call me Thom?”
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“Don’t worry about it. If you getting my name backwards is the worst thing that happens to me today, I’ve had a pretty good day.”
She jerked to a stop, then leaned into the lead, starting Hoover walking again. “Come on, dog,” she growled.
“So, Carolyn…or do you prefer Carol?” I began.
“Carolyn is fine.”
“So, Carolyn, are you from around here?”
“Here, as in Charlotte, yeah. Here, near the park, no, not really. I have an apartment over in Hampshire Hills.”
“Not that far away, then.”
“No, not really, I guess. What about you?”
“I live in Elwood Creek.”
“Isn’t that north of Charlotte?”
“Yeah. I like to come to CityWalk to run because it’s peaceful and there isn’t a lot of foot traffic.”
“What do you do that you can come here to run every day during the day? Work nights?”
“Hardly. I’m an angel.” I looked down at her and smiled as she looked at me like I was crazy.
“An angel?”