Rosco pauses, nose in the air. He comes to such an abrupt halt that I stumble against the strain of his leash, almost toppling over. He sniffs loudly, big blue eyes scanning the distance before locking on a nearby pet supply shop. It’s a quaint little store where I buy my dog food and supplies, but also the occasional treat. Rosco snorts again, suddenly whipping his head pleadingly back to gaze at me. He sits on the sidewalk with a throaty whine, tail lowering.
“What, buddy?” I ask with another laugh. “You smell something tasty over there?”
He whines again, tugging the leash just slightly in that direction. When I don’t move, he sits back down again stubbornly. I can tell we’re going nowhere fast if I don’t give in. Though I normally wouldn’t agree to such a demand, I think Rosco and my dogs have been through quite a lot today and they could all benefit from something special.
“Well . . .” I say slowly, “I guess I could pick up some treats then. We’ll just add it to Cooper’s bill. How does that sound?”
A few people glance at me as they walk by on the sidewalk, watching me have a fully one-sided conversation with the beast on my leash. I couldn’t care less what they might think. They don’t matter. All that does is Rosco and the fact that his tail is wagging a mile a minute right now.
With a shake of my head, I relent and walk Rosco across the street to the store though I keep a very strong hold on his leash. We step in, the bell chiming overhead as the man behind the counter looks curiously over. “Hey, Summer!”
“Hi, Sam! How are you doing?”
“Great! Actually, I’ve been hoping you’d come in. There’s an adoption fair in Central Park I was hoping I could sign you up for . . .” The shop owner suddenly pauses and arches an eyebrow. “What are you doing with Rosco?”
“You know Rosco?”
As if on cue, Rosco trots to the counter, hauling me behind him, and presses the end of his snout against the glass barrier protecting the dog treats lovingly iced by Sam’s wife every morning.
“Yeah,” Sam says lightly. “Cooper brings Rosco in every other week or so. Gets a dozen of the pizza-flavored treats for the big guy here. They’re his favorite. No one else likes them, but I get the wife to make them special for Rosco. Come to think of it, Cooper hasn’t made his trip in this week. Must be busy.”
“Are you saying there’s some extra laying around?” I grin, trying not to laugh at the thought of the smug CEO buying pizza-flavored anything.
Sam returns my smirk with a nod.
One look down at Rosco’s expectant face and I have no choice but to agree. “I guess we’ll need to get some to-go. Put it on Cooper’s tab, won’t you?”
With a chuckle and a nod, Sam scoops some of the treats coated with red yogurt icing and carob pepperonis into a to-go box. I glance around as he works, eyes skimming over the leashes and collars and toys they’ve got in stock. The air is laced with the smell of kibble and rawhide treats, but there’s something comforting about it. It reminds me of my high school days spent volunteering at the dog shelter and my own sweet dogs at home.
“What were you saying about an adoption fair, Sam?”
“I’m glad you reminded me, I would’ve forgotten to tell you. It’s tomorrow and they’re finding themselves a bit short-staffed. I was hoping I could count on you to join in?”
“You know I’m always willing to lend a hand when I can.”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.” Sam beams, winking as he hands over the box of treats. “Here you go. Cooper says he has to keep them on top of the fridge because Rosco is a daredevil when it comes to sniffing them out. Just something to keep in mind.”
I laugh and nod, stroking Rosco’s head. He nuzzles up against my fingers, a content huff rumbling in his throat. I can’t tell if he’s being sweet or trying to convince me to give him a treat.
Sam watches thoughtfully, leaning his elbows against the counter. “You know, I met Rosco when Cooper first adopted him. The only time I’ve ever seen him look at a person the way he’s looking at you is when he’s looking at Cooper. I think you two have a special bond.”
“He puts up with me,” I say grinning back. “Probably better than I’ve been putting up with Cooper.”
Sam chuckles and nods sagely. “Cooper can be a handful, too. He’s a good guy though. He treats that dog of his like a king. I think Cooper would do just about anything for his pup. In fact, I see that same love in your own eyes, Summer. I think you both may have more in common than you realize.”
“Agree to disagree, Sam,” I announce with a sigh.
However, his words struck me enough that I decide not to add the treats to Cooper’s bill. Instead, I slide some cash over the counter. When Sam hands over my change, I drop it in the animal shelter collection plate to the right of the cash register.
“I’ll see you around, Sam.”
He waves, returning to work as the bell again chimes behind me.
When Rosco and I step back onto the sidewalk, the afternoon sun has peaked and begun to fall once more. Lazy heat still pulses in the air, seething up from the sidewalk. I’d already checked to make sure it wasn’t too hot for Rosco’s sturdy paws.
As we approach my apartment, I begin to gnaw on my lip, wondering just how I was going to go about reintroducing Sadie and Lola to Rosco. The morning had been a stressful and frightening one. I’m fairly certain neither of my dogs will hold a grudge, just as I’m fairly certain Rosco isn’t going to react aggressively, but at their core, dogs are still animals and you can never be one-hundred percent certain what will happen.
“Now, I understand what happened earlier today, Rosco. But it isn’t safe to just let you roam. I want to keep you safe just as much as I want to keep my own dogs safe.”
Keeping his ice blue eyes on the box held in my hand, Rosco doesn’t seem to listen to what I’m saying. He remains cheerful, waiting patiently for me to open my door.
I tighten my hold on his leash, unlocking my front door to the sound of Lola and Sadie scrabbling at it from the other side. Their barks sound against the thin wood, Rosco’s tail slowly lowering and tucking between his legs.
When I push open the door, I quickly step between Lola, Sadie, and Rosco, and gently command my dogs to return to their beds. They obey quickly but unhappily, curling up on the pink plush pillows, whining. Rosco trails after them but I tug his leash and direct him to his kennel. He pauses before going in, giving me a long look that feels more like an apology than a plea to be allowed to rove free with Sadie and Lola.
I stroke his chin softly then look on as he lays on the floor of his kennel. Before I close the door, I take one of his odd pizza-flavored treats and pass it to him. He sniffs it, huffs, and closes his eyes without eating it.
“I’m sorry, Rosco,” I murmur, closing the door, “but this really is just to make sure that you dogs will get along and we won’t have a more disastrous repeat of this morning.”
After sliding the lock of the kennel into place, I allow Sadie and Lola to get up from their beds and grab two more treats from the box, passing them to both dogs. Then I climb to my feet and walk into the kitchen, perching the box up on the very top of the fridge. It’s almost laughable to imagine big and burly Rosco climbing up the kitchen counters trying to get to his treats.
I look over again, hoping to see him nibbling on his treat, but he hasn’t even licked it once. His eyes are closed but his expression is unmistakably sad. My dogs seem to have taken his lead, neither one eating their treats either.
Sadie holds the treat in her mouth, her eyes filled with restraint as she carries it over to Rosco’s kennel, drops it beside the cage, and lays down. She stares into the cage at him, her chin on her front paws. Lola, who’s never once taken more than a single bite to chomp down a treat, slowly follows suit.
I hold my breath, watching with keen interest.
Rosco’s eyes open at the sound of the two dogs joining him. He lifts his own head, ears pricking upwards. He gives a throa
ty but curious whine. Lola nudges her treat with her nose before sticking her snout against his cage. My body tenses, ready to jump in between them even though the kennel will protect the pair, but Rosco leans closer as well and gives her nose a small lick.
As though they’d communicated something entirely between themselves, all three dogs immediately begin munching on their treats. The sadness has cleared from Rosco’s eyes and he contentedly licks his chops as he finishes his snack.
Still shocked at their little canine picnic, I make my way to the couch to curl up with a book. As usual, I expect Lola and Sadie to join me as they always do—one curling at my side, the other warming my feet. However, this time they choose instead to rest with Rosco. They lay on either side of his cage with him sprawled sleepily across the floor of it, the sound of their combined snoring rumbling throughout my living room.
As dinnertime approaches, I finally decide that perhaps it’s time to give Rosco another chance. I can tell by the way Sadie and Lola stick close to him that they have more than forgiven him for the earlier incident, and he hasn’t shown a lick of aggression since then.
When I open the kennel door, Rosco climbs uncertainly to his feet. He looks at me, then Lola, then Sadie as though he’s asking if it’s okay for him to join us. I sit back on my heels, allowing them to dictate what happens next though I am ready to act if necessary.
Sadie wags her tail and barks, falling into a playful bow. Lola mimics her, bouncing around behind her, and before I can even blink I have three crazed fluff balls chasing one another happily around the living room.
I sink back on the couch and watch them play, keeping a close eye on their behavior as well as the sounds that they make to be sure that their play doesn’t devolve into a canine brawl. Rosco, despite being bigger than both Lola and Sadie combined, allows them to roll him over and leap all over him. Their roughhousing never gets too aggressive though, and by the time another hour passes, all three dogs have curled up for a pre-dinner nap. Rosco seems to keep one eye open, simultaneously watching protectively over his new friends as well as the front door for any sign of Cooper.
When I gather their freshly filled food bowls, neither of the four-pawed trio move. Instead they observe me quietly. I call Sadie and Lola over in an attempt to separate them again for feeding, but when I place the bowls on the floor of my bedroom they sit down and refuse to touch them.
Rosco trots over, curiously peering around my legs, and squeezes past me to one of the food bowls. Again he looks at Sadie and Lola for guidance. Then, as if the three of them came to some silent agreement, they dive together into one of the bowls, sharing the food with comfortable ease. With a roll of my eyes I retrieve the other bowls and direct Rosco back to his own food though I don’t separate them.
This time, he finishes his meal.
When they’re all done, they again return to the pink plush beds and curl up together. It’s comical watching big Rosco try to fit on the small pink cushions, but my dogs don’t seem to mind sharing. If I’d had any worries about their interactions, they’ve all evaporated now.
I’ve only just rinsed out their food bowls and begun contemplating my own dinner when I hear a sudden knock at the door.
Chapter 7
Cooper
The two bags of food are heavy and warm in my hands as I lift them, grinning at the woman standing in her doorway. Summer’s hair is now loose around her shoulders, freed from her high ponytail of earlier and curling in effortless beauty around her face. I don’t think she’s got a single ounce of makeup on, but she’s gorgeous all the same. Though when I think of her, which has been frequently throughout the day, I can’t stop picturing her in her skimpy towel. And now, staring at her, I have trouble controlling my pulse.
Every time I see her it’s like I’ve forgotten just how truly breathtaking she is in person. She’s so lovely that I’m caught off guard, forgetting what I’m doing here. I’m lucky I don’t drop the food.
She greets me with an uncertain smile after opening the door, gesturing at the bags. “What’s that?” she asks curiously.
I lift them again, scents of dumplings and fried rice wafting upwards and making my mouth water. “Our dinner.”
“In that case, come on in,” she teases, stepping aside to allow me entrance to her home.
The mood is much lighter than it was the last time I saw her, which I’m thankful for. That means that the rest of the day must’ve gone well for both her and Rosco.
After setting the food down on her table, I greet Rosco. He leaps up at me, his paws on my chest. I scratch his ears and his belly as he licks my chin. After getting his necessary love, Rosco settles down beside my feet. His tail swishes occasionally, his wise eyes watching us closely. I know he’s hoping a few crumbs of food manage to find their way to the floor.
“Is that pizza breath I smell?” I ask Summer, glancing at her and wiping slobber from my cheek with the back of my hand.
“Sure is. I stopped by Sam’s shop after I left your office.” She abruptly grimaces, setting down the plates she’d just retrieved from her kitchen. “By the way, I hope I didn’t mess anything up too badly. I shouldn’t have barged in like that, but I was so upset . . .”
I shake my head, delving into the bags of food and setting it out for us. “No, I understand. The meeting worked out fine. One of the men has a Husky back home who he misses a lot while traveling, so I think if anything you actually helped my case.”
Summer sidles over, curiously watching me lay out the boxes. “Do you travel much?”
“I did in the beginning when I was starting my tech firm. I had to prove how dedicated I am. Thankfully, by the time I found Rosco, I’d pretty much settled here. I know my hours keep me busy, but at least I can go home to him every night.”
Summer nods in quiet agreement, reaching over to steal a spring roll. She takes a bite before closing her eyes in pleasure. “I love this place,” she sighs happily. “They have the best takeout in town. I’m surprised you like it though. It seems a little . . . plain for someone like you.”
“Plain?” I ask with a chuckle. “What’s that supposed to mean? A man in a suit can’t like takeout?”
“I just mean that this smorgasbord probably cost you like twenty bucks tops. I feel like you wouldn’t go anywhere that didn’t cost that much just for a glass of fancy water.”
“I come off that pretentious?”
She shrugs. “Your secretary mentioned Chez Flores earlier. I just figured that’s the kind of stuff you eat every day.”
“She’s not my secretary. She’d probably have a stroke if she heard you say that. She’s my assistant. And Chez Flores is good, but their prices are a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”
Summer smirks. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never eaten there.”
I fight my immediate impulse to invite her there for dinner tomorrow night. “You’re not missing anything. Besides, I might have a fat wallet, but I still enjoy good takeout just like anyone else.”
She blinks, surprised by my candor, and then nods. “You’re right. I guess it’s just the impression I got.”
“Well, it’s the wrong one,” I tease.
“You don’t like fancy things?”
“I love fancy things. But I also love simple things, and I love that I got us enough food to last the rest of the week for just twenty bucks.”
“Please, I could eat all this tonight,” Summer shoots back, eyes gleaming playfully. “You’ve never seen anyone take down a pint of this fried rice like I can.”
Laughing, we sit down together and take turns passing the food. She steals another spring roll and moans softly the moment it passes between her full lips, making something tighten in my chest. The sound of her pleasure seems to strike just the right tune in my core, my blood simmering. I clear my throat, taking a hefty bite of rice and trying to distract myself from the beauty sitting at my side. My eyes wander back continually, following every move of her legs and every shift of her bod
y.
“Rosco did okay then?” I ask eventually when the silence has dragged on just a little too long. “No more freak-outs or incidents?”
“He did wonderfully, actually. I had to put him in the kennel when I got back just in case, but Lola and Sadie wouldn’t leave his side. I finally had to let him out just because it was making me feel guilty. They even ate together. I’ve never seen anything like it. Lola and Sadie are usually perfectly friendly with our visitors, but I think they might actually like Rosco a lot.”
As she speaks, her eyes shift over to where the dogs are trotting around the living room and sniffing out abandoned toys. Her face is soft, eyes warm. Though she gazes at the dogs, I can’t stop gazing at her. It’s not just her physical looks that strike me, it’s the passion and fierce kindness that I can see in her eyes. Just looking at her makes it hard for me to breathe.
Feeling Summer watching him, Rosco turns around and carries over a toy he’s discovered. He drops it into Summer’s lap, tail wagging happily. She laughs and ruffles his furry head, tossing it across the room. He chases it, bringing it to me this time. We go back and forth like this for a while until Rosco loses interest and brings his toy to Sadie and Lola. They tug at it playfully, chasing one another around in circles.
I’ve never once seen Rosco so utterly content in a place that isn’t my home. Even at Mrs. Donnell’s he was ready to go the instant I returned. Sometimes I stayed to have a cup of tea and chat with Mrs. Donnell, but Rosco would still sit by the door to make sure I didn’t leave without him. My sweet neighbor was always kind to him, giving him endless scratches and walks throughout the day, but Rosco was just never able to fully put down his guard even with that friendly woman. Here, however, I feel like I could almost sneak back out the door and Rosco would barely notice. Maybe it’s because he has friends here or maybe it’s Summer. Whatever it might be it delights me to know that Rosco is so comfortable.
Cooper: A Clean Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Boyfriend Series Book 2) Page 5