Jessica
Sunday morning at ten, I was lounging in bed with a mug of coffee and a cinnamon raisin bagel when my phone pinged with a text from Louie. My shift starts at noon. You up for a walk with Stinker beforehand?
He wanted to see me again? Already? I was both flattered and flustered. I wanted to see him again, too, but at the moment I had a major case of bedhead, my curls tangled up like a tumbleweed on my head. I sent a reply. Sure. Give me 30 minutes.
Fueled by my excitement, I hurriedly showered and dressed, finishing up just as my doorbell rang a half hour later. Louie stood on the threshold dressed in tennis shoes, shorts, and a T-shirt, Stinker frolicking at his feet. Shirazi, who’d followed me to the door, took one look at the puppy and proceeded to throw a hissy fit. He arched his back, fluffed his fur, and bared his teeth. Hisssss!
Apparently Stinker didn’t have much experience with cats. Instead of backing off, she whipped out her tongue and licked him from chin to ear, following up with a yap.
Shirazi turned his head to look up at me, his mouth still hanging open but no longer hissing. The expression in his eyes said it all. This puppy just doesn’t get it, does she? Fortunately, rather than biting or scratching Stinker, he took pity on the poor pup and simply scampered off back into my apartment.
After locking my door, I tucked the key into the pocket of my shorts and followed Louie and Stinker down to his Jeep.
“How’s Stinker doing?” I asked once we were all settled inside, the humans up front and Stinker in a special padded dog seat strapped in the back. “Is she eating well?”
“She eats like a horse,” Louie said. “I’ll bet she’s gained a pound or two already.”
“What about her sleep? Does she like the dog bed you got her?”
“Wouldn’t know,” Louie said. “At the station she’s always in someone’s lap or on the couch next to them. I tried to get her to use the dog bed at my house, but she whined and scratched on the side of my bed.”
“And?”
A sheepish grin took over his face. “And now she sleeps in my bed with me.”
In bed with Louie? Lucky pup. “She’s got you wrapped around her little paw,” I teased.
He shrugged. “I’d be lying if I denied it. But how can I say no to those sweet little brown eyes?” He turned to gaze adoringly back at her.
I looked back at Stinker, too. Yep, sweet little brown eyes. I couldn’t say no to them, either.
We headed out. A few minutes later, we parked at a trailhead just off S. University Drive and set off down the pathway that ran adjacent to the Trinity River. Still not fully accustomed to a leash, Stinker pranced and pulled and tied our ankles up in knots as she ran between and around us.
“If I didn’t know better,” Louie said when the pup had tripped us up for the third time, “I’d say she’s trying to kill us.”
She insisted on greeting every person and dog we passed, yipping excitedly whenever one came into sight. The similarities between the puppy and a small child were not lost on me. Both had a sense of wonder about their world and found each new discovery to be as thrilling as the last. It also dawned on me that the way Louie treated Stinker provided a glimpse into the kind of father he would be. Doting. Affectionate. Patient.
When Stinker spotted a pair of ducks resting on the riverbank, she bolted down the embankment toward them, dragging Louie behind her and yapping as loudly as her little lungs would allow. Yap-yap-yap! The ducks waddled toward the water, plunked in, and paddled off, expressing their displeasure with a series of recriminating quacks.
Plop! Stinker jumped into the water and attempted to dog-paddle after them, but found herself restrained by her leash. Louie bent down at the water’s edge and coaxed her back to dry land. “Come back, girl. No ducks for you today.”
The puppy paddled in a semicircle back to the bank, climbed out, and shook herself, sending up a spray of water all over me and Louie.
I laughed and wiped the droplets from my cheek. “She’s really living up to her name, isn’t she?”
“She sure is.” Louie looked at me, cocked his head, and reached out to cup my chin in his hand. “You missed one,” he said softly, running this thumb over my jawline to remove another drop.
At his warm touch, my heart performed backflips in my chest. He gazed at me for a long moment and I gazed back, finding myself leaning reflexively into the manly hand that still held my face. His touch was both soft and strong at the same time, casual yet intimate.
A trio on bicycles rounded the bend, interrupting our special moment. Louie released me and we continued on our way, Stinker leaving a trail of water drops on the asphalt behind her.
All too soon, we had to head back to the car so that Louie could get ready for his shift at the station. When he dropped me back at my apartment, he leaned in and gave me a soft, warm kiss, affectionate yet not overtly sensual. It was just as well. There was no time for the kiss to go anywhere, and nothing had changed between last night and today. I wasn’t ready to take things further. Not yet. I was enjoying Louie’s company too much. I didn’t want to risk losing it.
* * *
On lunch duty again Monday in the cafeteria, I gave Tasha the details of my Saturday night date with Louie, including the spectacular goodnight kiss.
She wagged her brows. “Sounds like Lieutenant DeLuca knows how to light a girl’s fire.”
Boy, did he ever!
“You going to see him again?” she asked.
“I hope so.”
He’d texted me several pics of Stinker at the fire station. One of her playing tug-of-war with Blast, a rope toy stretched between their mouths. Another of her sprawled on her back on the couch, happily snoozing. Another of her with a too-big red fire helmet on her head. Too cute. The puppy served as a connection between us, our mutual concern for her welfare giving us a reason to stay in touch without the usual concerns about whether things were moving too fast or too slow.
On Tuesday evening, Louie swung by my apartment with Stinker. We took the dog for a long walk around my neighborhood, strolling at a leisurely pace, enjoying the fresh evening air. Stinker was beginning to comprehend the concept of a leash. While she still pulled on it and tried to run, bit by bit she was getting better. We stopped every few feet so she could check out the environment. She sniffed a flower here, chased a bug there, pawed at a tuft of crabgrass along the curb, surprised to see it bounce back.
I felt much like her, discovering the new world Louie had opened for me, so many new thoughts and feelings to explore. He was so different from the other guys I’d dated. He sparked a four-alarm desire in me that I was having a hard time tamping down. But he also gave me a feeling of comfort and contentment, as if I’d found my way to a home I hadn’t known before. Louie was undeniably handsome, but his personality was entirely down to earth. I felt like I could be myself with him. But could I share everything with him? I didn’t feel quite ready for that. But I knew the time would come. And it might be sooner rather than later.