by Mara Wells
“It’s funny really.” Knox bent down to scratch Sarge under the ruff of his costume. “All brains and beauty, no artistic talent whatsoever.”
“What’re you talking about?” Danielle gestured at the dogs, who wagged their tails at the energy in her voice. “That is talent, mister. Three masterpieces on display.”
Knox laughed so loud that Sarge jumped and so hard that Danielle had no choice but to join in.
“Maybe you can say they’re mutant plant hybrids caused by climate change?” Knox cracked himself up. Sarge wagged his tail in enthusiastic agreement.
Danielle leaned against the cold cinder-block wall of the garage. “Is it really that bad?”
“What’s bad?” Adam joined them, a copy of the New Times rolled and tucked into one armpit. He wore gray slacks and a navy sweater vest, dressed like he was attending a board meeting, not a dog park event. “Are you going up to the Easter parade?”
“We are, but I’m surprised you are.” Danielle fanned her face with her hand to calm down.
“Caleb and Lance insisted. They said I should see how my design is used.” Adam craned his neck as if he could stare through the layers of concrete between him and the park. “They’re not wrong. I’ve gotten two more requests for similar garages. People love their dogs, I guess.”
“They sure do.” Danielle rubbed the back of Flurry’s head, under the e-collar. “You know what they don’t like? To have those dogs mocked. Can you believe Knox was making fun of my dog-costuming skills?”
Adam crouched and inspected the dogs. “The costumes are lovely, Danielle. Not many people understand modern art, that’s all.”
“What do you think the dogs’ bonnets are based on?” Knox took two tote bags and slung them over his shoulder and somehow commandeered the table, leaving Danielle with four small totes, one chair, and zero dogs.
“Jackson Pollock paintings, of course. Perhaps a reimagining of his War?”
Knox dropped the table from laughing so hard. When he finally caught his breath, he said, “They’re flowers, Adam. Flowers.” Then he was laughing again.
Adam’s dark eyes widened, then he covered his reaction with a smile. “Ah, yes, I see it now. Lovely flowers. Nicely done, Danielle.” He straightened and surveyed the pile of stuff. “Looks like you’re planning to camp up there. Need some help?”
“Thank you, Adam. It’s nice to know a real gentleman.” Danielle handed him the lightest bag, the one filled with bouncy tennis balls, and a cushion for the folding chair.
“Happy to assist.” He reached for the rest of the bags she’d been carrying, easily holding all the straps in his wide palms. He dropped his newspaper into one of the totes and took her folding chair as well.
“Hey.” Knox rearranged his hold on the table, bags, and dogs. “I offered to help first. Who’s the real gentleman?”
Danielle looked from the tall, elegant Adam to Knox in his battered First To Fight T-shirt and scuffed work boots. Her heart beat triple time, thinking about tracing the ink of Knox’s tattoo wherever it might lead. Tracing any part of his muscled anatomy, really. With three greyhounds at his feet, the picture he made was nearly irresistible. But resist him she did.
“Adam, obviously.” Danielle grinned at both men, but only Adam grinned back. Now empty-handed, she pushed the elevator button.
“Flattery appreciated, but you’re not talking me into adopting a dog. I’ve been warned about you, you know.” Adam’s light teasing accompanied her into the elevator where she held the door until both men had lugged all her stuff inside.
“A dog, maybe not. But how do you feel about puppies?” She bobbed her eyebrows at Adam. “Flurry’s expecting. They’ll be ready to adopt in three to four months.”
“And now I know the warnings were accurate.” Adam used his elbow to push the button for the roof. “Puppies need even more attention than a dog. Afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“We’ll see.” Danielle tried to make her voice ominous but a giggle spoiled her attempt.
“Leave the poor guy alone.” Knox finally reentered the conversation, earning a grateful smile from Adam, and Danielle relaxed with relief. Knox might be hard to read sometimes, but at least he wasn’t acting like her hightailing it away from Eliza’s earlier today made anything awkward between them. Maybe he was used to squirrelly girls. Her lips twitched, wanting to smile. Brains and beauty, he’d said. Who needed artistic talent?
* * *
“Clever.” Sydney approached Danielle’s table, her tiny Chihuahua in a baby sling across her front. His ears perked forward and his head swiveled from side to side, taking in all the sights and sounds of the Easter parade preparations as the rooftop dog park slowly but surely filled to capacity. “Can I take a guess?”
“Of course.” Danielle pushed a Homestretch logo sticky pad her way. Knox had somehow produced a giant fishbowl for her, and she’d carefully lettered a sign that said, Guess the greyhounds’ bonnet theme correctly and be entered to win a free annual exam at Dr. Morrow’s Animal Hospital. $1 per guess. Her dad wouldn’t mind. Anything for the animals.
“Does it include the yearly shots?” Sydney asked, scribbling her guess on the pad.
“Absolutely.” Danielle hadn’t thought that far ahead. Why not? Only one person would win, so the prize should be a good one.
Sydney dipped a finger into the front pocket of her skinny jeans and produced a five-dollar bill. “In that case, Chewy and I have a few ideas.” She dipped her head, pretending to listen to the Chihuahua’s input.
Danielle watched with a fond smile while Sydney finished her guesses, reminding her to write her name and number on each entry.
“Let’s make this interesting.” Knox slapped a ten-dollar bill on the table.
“You already know what the costumes are.” Danielle tsked at him.
“I bet you ten dollars no one guesses flowers, and I bet you twenty if someone does guess flowers, that they don’t guess which flowers.” He slammed an Andrew Jackson next to the Alexander Hamilton and met her raised eyebrows with a smug grin.
“And I bet you”—Danielle narrowed her eyes, thinking—“that if someone does guess correctly, you take Sarge for a whole day.”
“Not fair. I’m offering cold, hard cash, and you’re offering emotional blackmail. I told you, I’m going to fill out the application.” He hadn’t yet, though. Danielle had eased up on the video clips and photo texts, figuring Knox might need some space. Some time to think about what taking on a dog really meant for his lifestyle. Maybe she should’ve kept it up after all.
Sarge whined at the words like he understood them. Danielle comforted him with a few pats to his head. “And I bet that spending some time with him will speed up the process.”
“What about his leg?” Knox rubbed his own bad leg. “I thought he couldn’t be adopted until he’s off the meds and cleared by your dad. And after that? What will his life be like?”
“He’ll be fine. What about yours?”
“What do you mean?” Knox snapped, sounding for all the world like a pissed-off drill sergeant.
Danielle fought the urge to shrink back. “Does your leg keep you from enjoying life? Doing work you find meaningful? Spending time with people you love?”
“Of course not.”
Danielle nodded. “Exactly. His injury isn’t holding him back. Heck, he’s going to be a daddy soon.”
This time, it was Knox’s eyes that narrowed. “I see your game.”
“You started the game.” Danielle wished she could take back her words. She didn’t like to think about Knox and the word daddy together. Her stomach clenched, but she held her ground. This was about Sarge, not her and her dashed dreams. Sarge was going to get his happily-ever-after if she had to sacrifice every ounce of her pride.
They stared across the table at each other for a long moment
. Danielle’s pulse picked up, pounding loud enough she could hear the blood rush in her ears.
“I accept your terms.” Knox held out his hand to shake.
Their fingers met, and Danielle felt it all the way to her bones. The warmth and strength of him, the old feelings battling to come to the front. She beat them back down, like she had so many times before, and smiled. “You’re on.”
Knox walked away, and Danielle knelt down on the ground so she could talk to the dogs face-to-face.
“Look like flowers, okay? Happy, beautiful, flowering, uh, flowers. Okay? You understand.”
Luna licked her hand. Of course they didn’t understand. For Sarge’s sake, she wished she’d brought the paints with her. Perhaps with a bit of a touch-up, she could make the petals more petal-like. She took realistic inventory of the three cones. No, Sarge’s fate was in the hands of destiny. Or perhaps an elementary-school teacher who might recognize the intent behind the actual creation.
Teacher? That gave her an idea. She pulled out her phone and made a call.
* * *
Danielle stayed at the table all day, delighted that she had to empty the fishbowl into one of her empty totes twice. Her first priority was always finding good forever homes for the foster dogs, but a close second was raising enough money to keep Homestretch operating. Not having a facility kept costs way down, but there was still a lot of medical care involved in the rescue line of work. Her dad couldn’t work for free all the time.
Sydney used a bullhorn to announce the beginning of the Easter Bonnet Parade, a loose gathering of dogs and owners who wanted to be considered for the Best Bonnet contest. Danielle was under no illusions that she and her dogs could hope to top the dachshund with an elaborate spray of spring flowers orbiting her head like a crown or the corgi outfitted like a very short cherry tree. A few people had a similar idea to hers, repurposing old surgical cones but with far more creativity than she’d used. One golden retriever’s cone turned him into a bowl of Froot Loops, and a Doberman’s martini glass even sported a long stick spearing two balls painted to look like olives. Well, she’d tried. It was the spirit of the thing that counted, right? Still, no sense in subjecting her ’hounds to the parade. Someone needed to be the audience. She used the time to sort through the fishbowl guesses, watching as roughly fifty dogs paraded by.
Abstract painting got the most votes, but there were five people who guessed flowers. Danielle separated those into two categories. Three wrote “flowers.” That should be enough to win the ten dollars from Knox. Two guessed at species. One wrote “tulip,” a good guess and certainly closer than the person who’d guessed “roadkill,” but the winner was the person who wrote “sunflower.”
“Take that, Knox.” Danielle smoothed the sticky note out on the table, eager to show him. She didn’t need the sticky for the person’s number—it was Lauren’s guess. It wasn’t cheating to call on an old friend who just happened to teach art classes to kids at the Police Athletic League on Saturdays. Anything for the dogs. Anything to get Sarge what he so desperately wanted: time with Knox.
“I’ve come to collect my winnings.” Knox’s limp was more pronounced later in the day.
“Read ’em and weep.” She fanned the correct guesses out on the table like a spread of cards.
“Huh.” He picked up each sticky note and inspected it. “I guess people have more imagination than I gave them credit for.”
Danielle held out her hand. “Time to pay up.”
Knox pulled the wrinkled bills out of the front pocket of his jeans. “I don’t mind losing to a good cause.”
Danielle smiled while he placed the bills in her hand. Her fingers curled over, catching his. Knox’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I’ll drop Sarge off tomorrow then?”
“I really can’t. Not at my apartment. There are rules and things.”
Danielle bit her lower lip. “So you’re going to back out on the terms of the bet?”
“Dammit, that’s not what I said.” Knox’s fingers tightened on hers. “Can you bring him to the Dorothy? I’ll be working there most of the day.”
“Sure.” Danielle let his hand go, surprised at the reluctance she felt. “Meet you up here at six?”
“In the morning?” he groaned, like that was early, but she knew he’d been up even earlier today to help with Eliza’s egg hunt. She suspected he was teasing, so she teased right back.
“Some of us have to go to work.”
“Hey, I work.”
“When you feel like it.”
Knox raised a shoulder. “Ownership has its privileges.”
“Six thirty?” Danielle collected the leftover brochures off the table, giving her hands something to do besides miss Knox’s touch. She was pleased by how many brochures were gone. She had high hopes for two families that had stopped to talk for a long time, spending time with Luna, Flurry, and Sarge. She was hoping they’d call tomorrow. She had a few fosters in mind for them or, if they were patient, maybe a puppy. Maybe two puppies. She eyed Flurry’s ever-expanding belly.
“Six thirty.” Knox helped her close down the table, packing totes and folding up the table while she folded the chair.
Once there was nothing left to do, Danielle pretended interest in the parade results.
“Riley and LouLou!” Sydney proclaimed into the bullhorn. Riley and LouLou took a victory lap in their matching Easter bonnets, elaborate concoctions of flowers sticking out in every direction and held together by what Danielle imagined to be about a pound of hot glue.
“Something tells me the voting was rigged. Riley’s grandmother was one of the judges.” Knox ran a hand through his short hair, the flex of his muscle drawing attention to the Semper Fi scripted on his arm.
“Love her or fear her, no one argues with Gloria.”
“True that.” Knox lifted tote bags onto his shoulders. “Let me help you to your car.”
“Thanks.”
“See, I’m still a gentleman. Adam didn’t even last an hour up here.”
Danielle smiled and collected the dogs for one last lap of the park to say their goodbyes. Knox hefted his load toward the elevator. The sun set slowly in the west, painting the sky in peach and orange. Danielle congratulated Riley and chatted with Eliza for a moment before catching the elevator herself.
By all accounts, it was a success of a day. Potential leads for new homes for her fosters. Money raised for Homestretch. Sarge exhibited no signs of distress from all the socialization. Even her terrible dog bonnets had ultimately been vindicated. Why, then, did she feel so sad, heading home alone?
Alone. She wasn’t really, not with her dogs, and she hadn’t felt lonely in a long time. But she couldn’t help but wish Knox wasn’t just packing up her SUV and sending her on her way. She imagined loading up the dogs and climbing into the passenger seat while Knox drove them all home. Not to his place. Obviously, she couldn’t live in an apartment that didn’t allow dogs. Not her place. The guest cottage was barely big enough for her and three dogs. No way it could accommodate another permanent resident. If this were a fantasy, why not imagine a house with a large yard? Sure, that was where they were going. Home.
Chapter 14
Knox scratched the perpetually itchy spot at the top of his leg brace, trying to look casual and not at all like a suspicious stalker dude hanging out at a dog park without a dog. Five minutes wasn’t that late, but he’d been fifteen minutes early, which made twenty minutes of awkwardly nodding at people while walking the edge of the rooftop park like he was checking out the view or something. For six thirty in the morning, the park was astonishingly busy. Before-work crowd, he supposed, and imagined what it’d be like to join their ranks.
The views were spectacular, with the Atlantic Ocean shimmering in the distance off the east side and views of Biscayne Bay and the Miami skyline off to the west. He could see why
Caleb and Riley planned to say their vows up here. Knox checked his phone again. Seven minutes late.
The elevator dinged and a flustered Danielle emerged. At first, he thought the dark circles under her eyes depicted a sleepless night, but as she drew closer, two dogs on her left and Sarge on her right, he saw that it was smeared mascara. Had she been crying?
“Everything okay?” He met her halfway across the park, greeting each of the dogs with a scratch under the chin. Sarge wiggled from head to tail, his skin rippling as if he were made of Jell-O.
“Didn’t sleep.” Danielle handed him Sarge’s leash and used her now-free hand to swipe through her disheveled hair. “Dad got a call after midnight. Hit and run left a poor little terrier with a crushed pelvis. I went into the clinic to assist him, and before I knew it, six hours had passed.”
“How’s the terrier?”
Danielle’s brilliant smile lit up her tired face, dazzling him more than the sun’s morning rays bouncing off the ocean. “He made it. It’ll be a rough go at first, but he’s going to live.”
“You’re amazing.” The words slipped out, unpoliced, but he wasn’t sorry for them. He’d watched from afar yesterday as she charmed people into taking her brochures, advocating for the dogs who’d been abandoned by a cruel racing system that didn’t care about them now that they couldn’t make money off the breed. She was relentless, definitely a good person to have on your side during a fight. Or anytime, really.
She swiped her hand through her hair again, the silky strands clinging to her fingers. “An amazing mess, you mean. But I wanted to get here before you gave up on us. As you can see, Sarge was eager to see you.”
Sarge sat at Knox’s feet, head tilted straight up to stare at him with adoration.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this kind of attention.” Knox reached down to unclip Sarge’s leash. The dog stood and gave himself a full body shake before trotting off to inspect the nearest palm tree.