Читать книгу Forever Home - Allyson Charles - Страница 8

Chapter Two

Bradley Cohen clutched the wriggling bundle of fur to his stomach and snaked his other hand out. He grabbed the woman by the belt of her trench coat, his knuckles pressing into her lower back. She had some damn nerve abandoning her dogs by a dumpster like they were nothing but trash. And a hungry dog who’d recently given birth to a litter of puppies…? Beyond low.

The woman twisted in his grip, and he jerked her backward. Stumbling on her heels, she craned her head and stared up at him, eyes wide with fear.

He cursed. A smidgeon of his anger melted into disgust—at himself. No matter what she’d done, he knew better than to manhandle a woman. Releasing his death grip on her coat, he stepped around her, getting between her and her getaway vehicle.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. He scratched the underside of the puppy’s jaw. “But it’s illegal to abandon your dogs. What’s your name?”

She tucked a hank of sleek black hair that had escaped her updo behind her ear. A flicker of recognition flared in his brain then drifted away. He didn’t know her, of that he was certain. He didn’t forget women with curves like hers, but something about her was familiar.

But this neck of the woods in central Michigan didn’t hold many residents. Three small towns made up Crook County: Clarion Township, Marysville, and Pineville. None of them boasted populations over twenty thousand, and all of their town centers were within twenty minutes’ drive of each other. His shelter, Forever Friends, was on unincorporated land between Pineville and Clarion. He could have passed by her in the grocery store or library every damn day.

“Why do you want to know it?” she asked.

“So I can give it to the police.” He’d thought that implication was obvious. Maybe she was a dumbass along with being cold blooded. It was a pity such a horrid person came in such a pretty package. Disgusting people should at least sport a wart or two. Or a nasty scar.

Brad rubbed his side. That wasn’t fair. He of all people should know not to wish scars on another person.

The woman shifted her weight. “You don’t have to call the police. They aren’t my dogs. I just found them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You just happened to be driving down a narrow alley and decided to go peering under dumpsters for puppies?” He held the black-and-white pup up to her face, and the little guy gave an excited yip paired with a full-body shimmy.

The warm bronze skin between her dark eyebrows puckered. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I found them in the empty apartment building down the street.”

“The Newgate Apartments?” He eyed the puppies in the crate and the emaciated boxer mix lying next to them and looked back at the woman wrapped in her trench, with an inch of navy skirt peeking beneath the bottom at her knees. She didn’t look like the kind of person to mistreat an animal.

Which was an absolutely asinine thought. Abuse wasn’t limited to a certain type of person. Stepping over to the crate, he lowered the puppy inside and picked up the plastic box. A large, shapeless bag was on the ground near the dog, and Brad swiped it up, too. He handed it to her. “Come on. Let’s take these dogs inside and you can tell me the whole story.”

“Inside?” She clutched the empty bag to her stomach. “I have to get back to work.”

And that’s when it clicked. How he knew her. “You’re Isabelle Lopez. I forget which real estate firm you work for, but I’ve seen your picture on the side of the local bus.”

“Izzy, with Goldstar Realty.” Reaching into her bag, she felt around and frowned. “I dumped the contents in my car. Excuse me a minute?” She strode to her glossy black SUV and pulled open the passenger door. She refilled her purse with what seemed like an endless supply of crap and paced back to him, a silver business card holder in her hand. She gave him a card. “I promise, these aren’t my dogs. I’ve never owned a dog in my life.”

He took the card, his fingertips grazing hers. “Well, that’s just sad.” He examined the neat font, the small head shot on the card that did nothing to capture her soft eyes. “What were you doing at Newgate Apartments?”

“Uh…” She rubbed her nose. “Why don’t we go inside as you suggested.” She pointed at the dog. “I gave her some Goldfish crackers and water, but she looks like she needs some real dog food.”

“And medical attention.” Resting the crate on one hip, Brad opened the back door and hollered inside. “Gabe! I need you out here.”

The sound of blues blaring from a radio ratcheted down. Gabe yelled, “Did you say something?”

“Yes. Get your butt out to the alley!”

Footsteps followed. “There’s no need to yell, asshole.” Gabe stepped through the door. “You can—” He broke off when he saw Brad had company and grimaced. “Sorry.” His gaze dropped to the dog lying with her head on her paws, and he knelt beside her. Running his fingers over the dog’s body, he asked, “Who do we have here?”

“Abandoned dog and her litter of”—Brad counted—“five puppies.”

“This dog is starving.” Gabe’s lips pressed into a white slash. He jerked his head at Izzy. “She responsible?”

“She says not, that she only found them.”

Izzy stepped forward. “‘She’ has a name. And of course I wouldn’t do this to an animal.”

Gabe gently scooped the dog into his arms and rose. He ignored the mutt’s bared teeth. “I’m taking her to the exam room. You can make the decision on whether to call the cops or not. And bring those puppies along when you’re done. I want to check them out, too.” He disappeared inside the shelter.

Izzy fisted her hands on her curvy hips. “I didn’t do this!”

Brad’s lips twitched. He believed her. It didn’t hurt that she wore outrage like a kitten who’d just had her catnip taken away. Really, her adorability didn’t come through at all in her pictures.

“Come on.” He held the door open with his shoulder and waved her inside with his free hand. “You can tell me all about it.”

She preceded him into the narrow hallway. The bathroom, which was also used for storage, was to their left, and the tiny kitchen across to their right. The next door on the right led to the exam room, and a quick peek inside showed Gabe had already settled the boxer mix on the stainless steel examination table. Across the room, the top half of the Dutch door to the kennels stood open, and the barking of their current crew filled the room.

Izzy walked past him down the hall, toward the wide curving reception desk that blocked visitors coming in the front from direct access to the back rooms.

“This way,” he said.

Izzy glanced back, and Brad jutted his chin at the door across from the exam room, to the shelter’s office. Following her in, he cleared a space on the large desk he shared with Gabe and settled the crate of puppies onto it. He lifted a stack of file folders off Gabe’s ergonomic executive chair and pulled it out for Izzy. The lazy wheel on its left side squeaked loudly.

“Here you go.” He patted the seat, sidled around to the front of the desk, and pulled out his own rickety wooden chair. Money was tight at the nonprofit shelter, and he’d furnished the place with thrift-shop rejects. Watching Izzy brush at the seat before settling down into it, he somehow figured she wasn’t used to holding client meetings in these types of surroundings.

“So, Isabelle Lopez, tell me your story.”

Perching on the edge of her seat, she crossed her ankles. Bits of gravel clung to her knees, and a small run had started in her nylons. “Well, as I said, I found the dogs in the apartments.”

“Is someone buying that dump? Are you the sales agent?”

“No!” Clearing her throat, she smoothed her hands down her trench coat and skirt. “No. I was walking past, going to Bert’s Bakery for some doughnuts, and I heard barking. Loud barking and lots of whining.”

“Hungry dogs tend to do that.”

She nodded. “I knew the apartments were supposed to be empty, so I went inside and found them.” A line creased her forehead. “I thought the last tenant left three weeks ago. The dogs couldn’t have survived there alone that long, could they?”

“No.” Brad’s anger spiked again, but this time he had no one to direct it at. “Someone must have dumped them, knowing it was an empty space.” Left the animals there to die. Brad curled his hands into fists. He’d really like to meet the person who’d done that.

He rolled his head. Anger was a useless emotion, and life was too short to indulge in it. So he pushed it aside and focused on the woman across from him. “Okay, you found the dogs and brought them to the shelter. Why leave them by the back door? Why not come in the front?”

“I was going to call you from down the block to tell you they were outside.” She leaned forward and gripped the edge of the desk. “I wouldn’t have left them to sit out there alone.”

“But why leave them at all?”

“Well, you see…” She scratched at a mark on the desk.

“Yes?” he drawled.

“Well, the apartments weren’t quite unlocked.” She gave a small nod, as if answering a question only she could hear, and Brad frowned. “I had to break in through a window, and I didn’t want to get in trouble with the police. I could have my license revoked if I’m convicted of a crime, so I thought it would be safer if I…” She spread her hands.

“Left them anonymously.”

She nodded. “Please don’t tell anyone I climbed into the apartments through a window. In fact, maybe it would be best if you just don’t mention my name. Ever.”

His lips curled up. “You crawled through a window?” She wasn’t a tall woman. Even in those heels she was probably only about five-six, five-seven. And wearing heels and a skirt…“I wish I could have seen that.”

“I don’t,” she said emphatically. “It wasn’t easy. I had to drag over some pallets and a mattress someone had left in the parking lot to get enough height to pull myself in. Even then, my entrance wasn’t pretty.” She rubbed her elbow. “Thank God the floor was carpeted.”

“I don’t think the police will care that you entered a foreclosed building to save some animals.” In fact, to Brad’s mind what she’d done had been pretty damn laudable. “You must be a real dog lover.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Animals really aren’t my thing. But that doesn’t mean I’d want to see any in pain,” she was quick to assure him.

The black-and-white puppy poked its nose over the top of the crate. Brad leaned over. The dog was standing on the back of one of his siblings. Another puppy chewed on his tail. Brad pushed to his feet. “Why don’t we get these little guys back with their mom.”

Izzy stood as well. “I don’t know. Their mama might need a little break from her brood. Taking care of five babies without any help must have exhausted the poor girl.”

Brad laughed. “That sounds like something another mother might say.” He glanced down at her bare ring finger. “Do you have kids?”

“Only one. And she’s enough to run me ragged.” The proud smile on her face canceled out the grumble.

Picking up the crate, Brad circled the desk and stepped into the hallway. Izzy followed. “And your husband?” he asked. “His help isn’t enough to keep you sane?” Please don’t have a husband.

Gabe looked up from his spot on the floor when they entered the exam room. He was sitting cross-legged next to the fluffy white dog bed they kept in the room, stroking his patient with one hand and holding an IV bag with a line running to above the dog’s front paw with the other.

“I’m not married,” Izzy said, hefting her purse higher up her shoulder. She took a step toward the pair in the corner. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked Gabe.

“She’ll be fine. She needs rest, fluids, and food, but she’ll recover. I’m hydrating her now.”

Brad held up the crate. “Here are her puppies. Should I put them around her?”

“No, put the crate on the table. We should let her rest a bit more,” Gabe said.

Izzy cocked her head at Brad and raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, you were right,” he told her. He put the crate down, making sure none of the puppies could escape no matter how many bodies they climbed on.

Izzy peered out the open top half of the Dutch door, the one that led to the kennels.

“Do you want a tour?” An idea began to roll around in his mind. “I’d love to show you the facilities.”

“Sure.” She reached into her bag and drew out her cell phone, checking the display. She kept the phone in her hand. “But I have to get back to work soon.”

“Then we’ll make it the speed tour.” That wouldn’t be hard. The 2,000-square-foot building was a tight fit for the eighteen dogs that were its current residents. With the addition of the six more Izzy had brought, they would be bursting at the seams.

He opened the bottom half of the door and led her into the kennels. Along the right-hand wall were three large cages for any aggressive animals that came into their custody. To their left, the wall between the kennels and the lobby had been turned into one large sheet of glass with a small door in the middle, so visitors could see the dogs playing. The rest of the space was filled with old, lumpy sofas and threadbare armchairs for the animals to snooze on. Dog beds were nestled in the corners, and crates lined the walls for the animals that preferred to sleep enclosed. Colorful, weatherproof, and drool-proof throw pillows had started on the couches but now were scattered about on the floor. Even the cages had old mattresses on the ground to ensure a comfortable night’s sleep for the dogs.

When they stepped in, he and Izzy were immediately surrounded by a horde of yapping dogs, each trying to wriggle as close as possible to get a little love.

Brad dropped to a squat and scratched a corgi under the chin. A yellow Lab stuck her tongue in Brad’s ear and whined. Laughing, Brad turned and gave the flirt a good chest rub. He wished he had enough hands to pet them all.

Izzy crowded close to him, holding her bag high against her chest. “Is this normal?” she shouted above the clamor. “Do they always swarm you?”

“Every single time I come in here.” That was the best part of his job. No matter if he was gone for five minutes or five hours, the dogs were always so excited to see him. How could anyone resist that?

Evidently Izzy could. She frowned and shooed a short-haired mixed breed away.

Brad gave a few more belly rubs and stood. “You’re not a dog person, huh?”

“I’m sure they’re fine.” She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “For someone who has the time to train and bathe them. That’s not me.”

“Don’t forget play with them.” Striding to a large basket full of dog toys, Brad pulled out a plush football with a turkey’s head and legs jutting out of it and tossed it across the room. Five dogs scrambled over each other to try to get to the toy first. “Playing with the dogs can take up a lot of time, but that’s the best part.”

Izzy didn’t look convinced. She walked around the room, three dogs trailing at her heels. “I didn’t expect all the furniture you have in here. I thought the dogs would just be sleeping on the ground.”

“Dogs like to be comfortable, just like humans. Besides, we try to create the type of normal environment most of these dogs will be going home to.” A young Great Dane pranced over to him holding the turkey ball, and Brad engaged in a tug-of-war with him to get it back. “When we can get volunteers, we have them play with the dogs and take them for walks. When we run out of room here, we get our dogs into foster care, get them accustomed to living in homes with people. And having human furniture in here helps the dogs transition to a forever home more easily.”

Izzy stopped walking and lowered the hand that held her phone. “A forever home,” she said wistfully.

He looked at the screen of her phone and scratched his chest. “Are you taking pictures?”

A flush crawled up her neck to her cheeks. “I thought my daughter, Ana, would want to see pictures of this. Unlike me, she’s a big animal lover.” She slid the phone into her trench pocket.

“You should bring her by. Show her the puppies her brave mom saved.”

Izzy shook her head. “Uh-uh. If she saw one of these dogs, she’d beg me to let her take it home. That’s not happening.”

“Why? There are six new dogs here now that need to find good homes. And we’re full up.”

“You don’t put them down if no one adopts them, do you?” She worried her bottom lip, her small teeth sinking into the plump flesh.

His mouth grew moist, and he swallowed. “Would you adopt the lot if I said I did?”

“No!”

Brad raised an eyebrow. He’d bet she would. She might not want the dogs, but Isabelle Lopez had a big heart. “Don’t worry. This is a no-kill shelter. But that doesn’t mean the dogs can stay here forever. They need homes. Are you sure you wouldn’t consider adopting?” He scooped up a dog that looked somewhere between a basset hound and a chihuahua and held it up to her face. “He’ll love you forever if you take him home with you.”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Even if I had the inclination to have a pet, I couldn’t afford one. Not when Ana goes to college in nine years. I have to be responsible.”

“Responsible Izzy doesn’t sound very fun. And money isn’t everything.” He hid his face behind the dog’s head and waved the dog’s paw. “I promise I’ll be a good boy,” he said in a McGruff the Crime Dog bass voice. “I’ll bring you your slippers, lick your plate clean, and snuggle up with you anytime you want.” He peeked around the dog’s head and met Izzy’s eye roll. Sighing, he lowered the dog to his chest. “You’re a tough nut to crack.”

She shrugged, but then a smile spread across her face, lighting her eyes and stealing Brad’s breath. His chest expanded. Maybe she wasn’t that tough. Maybe—

Something wet and warm spread across his stomach. His chest deflated on a sigh. He had the bad feeling it hadn’t been his charm and wit that had lit Izzy up. Following her gaze, he looked down, and yep, the little guy had peed on him.

Not a great recommendation for a prospective dog owner. “House training doesn’t come standard.”

She laughed, a full-throated chuckle that reminded him of sultry nights dancing under the stars. Brad made it his mission right then and there to hear that laugh again.

“Well, if I can’t interest you in a dog, how about dinner?” He put the little pisser down and pulled his wet shirt from his stomach. “I promise to shower before I pick you up.”

Strolling for the door to the exam room, Izzy shook her head. “No, thanks.”

He trailed after her, careful not to close the door on a dog’s inquisitive nose. “You have to eat, don’t you? Your daughter is invited, too, of course.”

“Still no.” She paused, darted a quick glance at the boxer mix lying in the corner, and then pushed on into the hallway.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” she said breezily. “Thanks for the tour and for not calling the police. I appreciate it!” And with a little wave over her shoulder, she sauntered out to the back alley.

Brad watched the door close behind her.

“That was quite a crash and burn, man,” Gabe said from the exam room.

“Bite me,” he replied good-naturedly. Pulling his T-shirt over his head, he walked into his office and found another one in his desk drawer. Yes, Isabelle Lopez had shot him down. But what would be the fun if the chase ended too quickly? As he’d said, she was a tough nut to crack. But one thing Brad’s childhood had taught him was patience. Patience and perseverance. Izzy didn’t know it yet, but she had become a challenge.

And there was nothing Brad loved more than a challenge.