Chapter 8

Apparently, it’s frowned upon to beat a little kid at tic-tac-toe until they’re crying. Who knew?

-Tyler to Reagan

Reagan

I lifted the lid off the trashcan and tossed the single bag of garbage that I generated this week into the can.

The movement of the trash hitting the bottom of the can caused the whole thing to rock and a sound emerged from somewhere near my feet that had me jumping back in surprise, using the lid that was still in my hand as a shield.

I carefully pivoted to look around the trashcans to the left and the right but didn’t immediately see anything. Then I saw something move out of the corner of my eye and I looked between the trashcans. Freezing when a pink tongue came out of the darkness offered by the two tall trashcans, I gasped when the shape of a fuzzy face came into view.

Ohhhhh!

I dropped down to my knees and made a kissing noise with my lips, calling out to the small, dark-haired face that I could see hiding there.

Slowly but surely, the puppy came out, revealing itself to me.

My heart instantly melted.

He looked like a big baby, but he was only about ten to fifteen pounds or so and all fluffy fur.

His face was black, his bulky little body was shades of brown and he had one white paw.

His eyes were the color of whiskey and I knew that I absolutely had to keep him.

***

I knocked on the super’s door, the old man who ran this cabin rental with an iron fist and knew his answer before I even asked.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t let this little baby go, I had to have him. There was no other option.

This puppy had to be mine.

He looked just like my little Bear, our old family dog, who, tragically, was hit by a car when I was around twelve.

It was a sign from above that he’d been hiding between my trashcans.

There was no possible way that he wasn’t meant to be mine.

The moment old man Rockman opened the door, his eyes narrowed on the ball of fur in my arms.

“No.”

I opened my mouth to argue. “No. You can’t have a dog here. A, it’s against the owner’s policy. And it’s the owner who makes the rules. Since she’s deathly allergic to dogs and does come by here on a regular basis to inspect the properties, there can’t be one here.”

My heart instantly fell. “And B?”

“There is no B. I just felt like saying A.” He shrugged unrepentantly. “Get that dog out of here. Now.”

Then Rockman slammed the door on my face and I felt myself deflate.

I looked down at the cutest face in the world and decided to go ahead and get him checked out by the vet in town.

I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to have him checked out and made sure he was okay, would it?

***

“This baby is a Leonberger,” the vet tech said. “Maybe mixed with something, but based on the bone structure, I wouldn’t say that it was mixed with anything but another big, big dog. This little boy could be upwards of two hundred pounds or more by the time he’s done growing. He’s a keeper, for sure.”

He was a keeper.

I mentally sifted through who I could get to keep the dog for me and discarded everyone my brain came up with.

For some reason, I just had to have this dog.

And anywhere but somewhere close by would be too far away from me.

Then a thought came into my mind and I knew this would be the perfect solution…I just had to convince the owner of the yard of it.

***

Tyler

I watched her walk into my station and knew instantly that she was going to be trouble.

The ball of brown and black fur in her arms confirmed that moments later when she marched into my office, totally disregarding the secretary—her friend, Katy—who tried to stop her and slammed the door.

I just sat there watching her watch me.

“Can I help you?” I asked, trying to calm my dick down.

She gestured to the dog and said, “I got you a present. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

Negative.

“I don’t want a dog, Reagan,” I said. “They’re too much upkeep.”

Reagan’s eyes narrowed. “I’m over there every day anyway taking care of the garden. I’ll feed him, pay for his vet visits and buy his dog food. You won’t have to do a single thing but allow him to use your backyard—which I noticed that you don’t even use.”

I wanted to say yes. I really did.

But I really, really didn’t want a dog.

Dogs were a pain in the ass. They shit everywhere, they chewed things up and they required constant time and attention—neither of which I had any extra to give.

Plus, I did like to use my backyard when I came home from work. But with a dog living back there, I’d feel obligated to pay attention to it instead of just sitting out there, relaxing and clearing my mind of the shit day that I had.

“No.”

Then I opened the door and gestured for her to leave.

She did, but she glared at me over her shoulder as she left and I had a feeling that this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

***

The moment I walked into my backyard, I knew that the puppy was there.

I just didn’t know where.

I’d seen the alert from the video feed earlier, informing me of a breach to my sanctuary—yet again—by the pain in the ass trespasser, or PITA-T as I was starting to call her.

Since I’d been in the middle of an arrest at the time, I hadn’t been able to take the time to look at the feed.

But as I passed a water bowl the size of a swimming pool, I knew that I’d find the puppy somewhere back here.

I made a short sweep around the yard, finding nothing.

Finally deciding that he’d come out when he didn’t feel threatened any longer, I walked to my swing and took a seat.

My eyes continued to scan the darkness, but I still didn’t see any movement.

I knew he was there, though. And that’s when I heard the soft snore from the hammock that I had hung up a month or two after moving in but hadn’t used once I realized how fuckin’ hard it was to get in and out of it.

I glanced over to it and felt my lips twitching when I saw the puppy—sprawled out on his back—snoring blissfully away while the hammock rocked back and forth softly with the breeze.

Son of a bitch.

I smiled.

I would not let her know that I found the dog amusing. I would not.