by Smith, L. T.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
About L.T. Smith
St. Hubert’s Animal Welfare Center, USA
Other books from Ylva Publishing
Coming from Ylva Publishing in spring 2014
Foreword
I would like to thank you for buying this book. As a lover of animals, dogs especially, I have always dreamed of helping those less fortunate than I. In this case, it is help for what we all consider to be “Man’s Best Friend”. When I first penned Puppy Love, I always had the dream that if it was ever published, then all my royalties would go to help those pups in distress.
There are many reasons why an animal finds itself in difficulty. With the recession, many people are finding it hard to make ends meet and just feeding a family is stretching their meagre wages. Dogs, as it appears, are not the priority. I am not judging these people—luckily for me, I’ve never been in that situation. It is not only that people have to give up their pets, mostly with a heavy and broken heart, but the Trust also helps and cares for dogs that have been mistreated, unloved, and cast aside.
The aim of the Dogs Trust is to give stray and abandoned dogs a second chance at a brighter future with responsible, caring new owners. They are totally reliant on voluntary donations to continue the fantastic work they do. Without the help and support of people like you, it would be simply impossible to care for over 16,000 dogs every year.
Thank you, dear reader. With the purchase of this book you have helped to make a difference to our furry pals, and for that I will be forever thankful.
L T Smith—Linda to you.
Supporting www.dogstrust.org.uk Registered charity 227523 & SC037843
Acknowledgements
Thank you, Astrid and Ylva Publishing, for making this dream come true. You have supported my dream to help a cause that is very important to me. As well as my royalties, you are giving part of your profit to another animal charity based in Germany. You are brilliant.
Day Petersen—you are wonderful. Thank you for polishing this novel to perfection. The pups thank you too. Lots of woofs and tail wagging for you.
Amanda Chron. You have made my man Mutley seem like a Lothario on the front of this book. He thanks you, and so do I. I should imagine he will get the ladies even more now. Shame he doesn’t quite know what to do with them apart from chase and growl at them. Sounds like a plan… And thank you, too, for donating your fee to the Dog Trust.
Finally, I hope you, the reader, enjoy this book and recommend it to another animal lover, then another, and then another. That would mean loads of money going to a very good cause.
L.T. Smith
Dedication
To my men, Joxie and Mutz. The canine version of The Krays.
Prologue
I remember in vivid detail the very first time I fell in love. I wasn’t looking for it, never planned on falling so completely under the spell of another. Despite that fact that I had spent thirty-three years without knowing how the sensation would feel, I accepted it without question, without a struggle. The moment I looked into the dark brown depths of my intended’s eyes, I felt as if the part of me that craved a connection of some sort had suddenly come to life again.
Hmmmm. Love. Loveity loveity love. Strange to think I had hidden my longing away from all, including myself, but finally bit the bullet and opened my heart to the man I will love for the rest of my life. Considering I am a full-fledged lesbian, it seems weird writing that. Before you say anything, or even continue the train of thought that includes responses like “I don’t understand. How can she call herself a lezza and fall in love with a man?” or “I don’t give a fuck”, please let me explain.
Men come in many shapes and sizes, and few of them will get my heart swelling like a bag of microwave popcorn. The male species is just that—a species. Males can be mice or men, birds or bees, or they can be, as I found out—or knew for quite some time—of the canine variety. Dogs, to be precise. Actually, “a” dog in particular. A loveable, brown-eyed boy called Charlie.
To put things in perspective, let me go back a little bit. I need to paint the picture for you of how I lost my heart to a wiggling ball of black and tan fur.
Chapter One
January 2012. New Year’s Day. Noon. Hangover. Every single one of my resolutions was already broken, and so was my cell phone. Seems that dropping it down the toilet, fishing it out, and then dropping it onto a tiled floor isn’t the wisest course when it comes to technology. I would like to blame someone else for my stupidity, but it was all down to me trying to text my sister from the bathroom of Dixie’s nightclub, to ask her to help me escape the blind date from hell. Seems I should’ve done it before I’d downed eight vodka and Cokes, but that would be hindsight, wouldn’t it.
Rubbing my head and wincing, I stumbled from my bed and went to relieve my bladder. Sitting on the throne, I contemplated the mysteries of life. Do a person’s fingers actually get fatter when one is inebriated? The previous evening, it had seemed as if each digit had spread over at least three keys on the keypad and ended up making a mish mosh of words—even if I had been in any shape to read them. Even though I was pissed and sporting the metaphorical beer goggles, I still couldn’t muster up any attraction for Cherie.
Don’t get me wrong—Cherie wasn’t a minger, as such, just…just…shallow. Lazy and shallow. Stupid, lazy, and shallow. A little like me, by the sounds of it. After all, here I am saying I stumbled out of bed at noon, had buggered up my phone because I was pissed and wanted to get away from someone because I couldn’t get pissed enough to shag her. Cherie could’ve been my double.
Shower time. Sigh. The feeling of griminess from the club began to wash away. It was replaced by more memories of the previous night: Cherie trying to cop a feel at every opportunity, and me dodging her tentacles at every one of those attempts like I was on a firing range on target practice day. This brought on more vigorous scrubbing and a pledge to never believe my sister when she told me the woman she worked with was a catch, and to not drink vodka and Coke ever, ever again.
Three o’clock saw me arriving at my sister’s house feeling a little more alive and ready to seek retribution. But when my niece answered the door with her gap-toothed grin and eagerness to hug my legs, I decided the roasting over the coals could wait a while longer.
“Happy New Year, Aunty Wellie. Me needs a kiss now.” Lily scrunched her eyes closed, puckered her lips, and waited for me to plant one on her.
Instead, I grabbed her underneath her armpits and hoisted her up. A yelp followed by excited screams shot from her mouth as I frantically slapped kisses all over her face. “Gerroff!”
More squeals, followed by more kisses.
“You attacking my daughter?” Abbie’s voice drifted down the hallway.
I stopped trying to eat my niece and glared over the blonde bunches on her head. “Go play, Lils. Aunty Ellie is going to kick Mummy’s butt.”
“But…”
“Yes. Mummy’s butt. Go. Tell grumpy chops we leave in twenty minutes.”
Whatever question Lily was going to ask next stayed unasked. What they were going to do was more important to her than being manhandled by her spinster aunt.
“DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDD
DDDDDDDYYYY!” And she was gone, although the echo of her voice was still very much present.
“Want a cuppa?”
I glared at Abbie. I didn’t want a cuppa; I wanted an explanation. Why had she thought I wanted to be set up with a woman who had more hands than a poker game and more one-liners than a nineteen-seventies stand-up comic, without the actual humour.
“Before you start getting all righteous, Cherie would be good for you.”
“Fuck that.”
“Lily, Elles, Lily.” My sister was good at checking my bad language in front of my niece. Thankfully.
A voice from the living room demanded, “What?”
Both Abbie and I shouted, “Nothing, baby,” and I continued to glare at my sister.
Abbie sighed and moved closer. “You need company, Elles. You spend most of your time either at work or working at home. Don’t you want someone special in your life?”
Not like Cherie, I didn’t. My shoulders sagged. I knew Abbie was only thinking of me, but I was big enough to look out for myself. If I wanted a relationship, I would get one, right? I was happy in my own little solitary world. I had my family, didn’t I? My job? What else did I really need?
“It’s been, what, eighteen months since your last girlfriend. Time to move on, hon.”
Move on? I hadn’t even wanted to go out with Tina. That, once again, had been a result of Abbie’s interference. Tina was too needy, too ready to have the moving truck outside my door after the second date. Talk about the caricature of a lesbian relationship. I’m surprised she didn’t order a turkey baster and a sperm donor from eBay as an early birthday present for me.
A surge of anger welled up inside me. “Stop, okay? Just stop with this, Abs. I am not a charity case who needs fixing up.” Why couldn’t people just accept that I was happy being on my own? What was the big deal about being tagged to someone else?
Abbie opened her mouth, but I cut her off. “Not everyone needs someone else to feel whole, okay?” I watched a hurt expression flit across her face, and even then I couldn’t stop myself. “I don’t need this, and I don’t need you. I’m going.” With that, I spun around and left my sister looking stunned.
I hadn’t even made it to the car before I felt a hand on my thigh, tugging at my jeans.
“Where ya goin, Aunty Wellie?”
I turned and looked down.
Big green eyes were looking pleadingly up at me. “Mummy said you were comin’ wif us today.”
I opened my mouth to say I couldn’t make it, you know, make excuses to a kid who believed I would not lie to her, but I couldn’t do it.
“Me’s gitin’ a puppy.”
A puppy? A spark ignited inside me that felt foreign, almost like something people might classify as excitement.
“Mummy said you cud help pick her.” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, and I watched as one spilt over and trickled down her cheek. “If you dun’t come, me won’t get one.”
Aw fuck.
Twenty minutes later, we were all bundled in my brother-in-law’s car and heading to the local dog pound. Rob tried to get me chatting by pulling faces in the mirror and cracking bad jokes, but I was too busy giving my sister the silent treatment to fall for his antics. Lily didn’t notice the tension in the atmosphere; she was too excited about getting a dog. Every time Abbie tried to make eye contact, I did the immature teen thing and hunched my body closer to the door and stared out of the car window with a “fuck the world” facial expression. Sometimes I surprise myself with my ability to be a knob.
When we pulled up in the car park at the Dogs Trust, I felt my flicker of excitement turn into a full blown raging flame. Stuff the melodramatics of trying to pretend I was angry at my sister. It would have been difficult to say who got out of the car more quickly, Lily or me.
Abbie approached me cautiously, her face trying to gauge how I would respond to her after my giving her the silent treatment. “Look, Elles. I’m sorry, okay?” She tilted her head to one side, her lips pursing in consternation. Moving closer, she whispered, “I…I won’t do it again.”
I squinted at her, and my expression showed my disbelief. “What was that, sis?” I loved to watch Abbie squirm.
She tutted before starting to say it again.
“Stop.”
She did.
“I need to actually hear you promise me you will keep your nose out of my business.”
Another tut clicked off her tongue before she said, “I promise you, Ellie, I won’t stick my nose into your life.”
I grinned stupidly. “That’ll do for me.” I reached forward, grabbed hold of her and pulled her close. “Happy New Year, sis.”
“And a Happy New Year to—”
“Come on! Me wants a puppy!” Lily was tugging on the door handle with all her might, trying to get inside the dog pound without us.
Laughing, I turned to look at Abbie and Rob, but was distracted by the arrival of a four-by- four entering the car park. The tyres scrunched over the gravel as the car spun to a stop. I don’t know why I found it necessary to stare. I just felt that I couldn’t pull my eyes away until I saw who was driving the car. Call it a totally fucked up moment.
The driver’s door opened slowly, as if this was a cinematic shot on slow speed. The next frames showed a long, jean clad leg cupped at the calf by a brown leather boot, then a second leg.
I watched as the legs stretched even longer and met the ground. All the moisture seemed to evaporate from my mouth.
“Close your gob, Ellie.” Abbie’s voice sounded as if it was a million miles away, floating to me on wisps of wind or as a distant memory.
The legs moved away from the car door and made their way over to where we were standing. Those glorious legs seemed to get bigger, and my focus moved from the thighs to the hips, from the hips to a flat jumper-clothed stomach, and onwards and upwards to the gentle sway of an obviously female chest.
I blinked, as my subconscious must’ve realised it was rude to stare at a woman’s chest, especially if you hadn’t been formally introduced. So, on came the view of a slender throat, a strong jaw, a crooked smile, and the tip of a straight nose. My heart rate was ramping up, thumping wildly inside my chest as the anticipation of the whole picture seeped from my imagination.
“Afternoon.”
Such a sweet voice. Heavenly. Angelic, yet laced with something that most definitely didn’t denote harps and purity. With a snap, I shut my mouth, my teeth clattering together like castanets. I honestly believe I answered with an “afternoon” of my own, but I couldn’t swear to it.
Then she was gone. Dark brown hair fluttered through the door and left me wanting. I hadn’t seen her eyes. For some reason, I felt that I needed to see her eyes. Looking into someone’s eyes allowed me to see so much. It wasn’t just attraction that made me do it; I was like that with everyone. Shaking my head, I grinned stupidly. I turned to speak to my sister, but realised I was on my own. What the…
“You coming?” Rob was standing in the doorway, waiting for me. “Looks like the other ladies wanted to see another kind of puppy dog eyes.”
Amazing to think he is just a builder and not a comedian, isn’t it.
Once inside, I saw the back of the mysterious woman’s head just in front of my sister. She was talking in low tones to one of the volunteers at the dog shelter, and I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Believe me when I tell you I was really trying—and also attempting to see what she looked like, especially the colour of her eyes. If the rest of her body was any indication, they would be perfect as well.
“What is the matter with you?” Abbie hissed. “How much did you drink last night?”
I grunted, and my incomprehensible noise seemed to pique the interest of the mysterious long-legged, four-by-four driver in front of us. Sh
e turned her head slightly, and I almost got to see her face, but the woman she was talking to asked her something and recaptured her attention.
Then, she was gone, and I was left feeling as if I had missed out on something totally life changing. I was typically not one for being overly dramatic, although with my sister, I was not averse to melodrama. Nevertheless, I knew I had to see the woman in toto before I would be able to achieve some semblance of peace.
Ten minutes later, we were allowed through the doors and into the back where the dogs were housed. Seeing those adorable little faces nearly made me forget my quest, and I was acting exactly like Lily. Seeing her eyes wide, mouth open in wonder and inability to speak made me long for the days when the smell and excited licks of a dog were all it took to make the world seem right. For me, that had been a long, long time ago. After Toby died, I had promised myself that for as long as I had breath in my body, I would never allow myself to be absolutely smitten with a dog again. He was my first and last pet, my special boy, the lad who had taught me that getting covered in mud and other unmentionable things was one of the most special times a girl could have. My relationship with Toby was completely different from any friendships I’d ever had before him. Upon reflection, I guess I had been in love before, but hadn’t allowed myself to remember loving Toby, because of the pain that came with it. It had taken me so long to get rid of the images of my loveable lad’s last moments on this earth, that I couldn’t open myself up to the possibility of losing someone that meant the world to me.
God. The trust, the absolute devotion he had shown, allowing me to slowly walk him into the room where the vet was waiting to end his pain. I still remember the way Toby looked at me, still remember the acceptance, the understanding. It hurts to think about the feel of his fur as I ran my fingers through it, loving the heat of his skin before the coldness would take over.