Page 20 of Junkyard Dog

He chuffed, shaking his head and batting the bowl away. Taking the hint, she slipped off her work truck and crouched, one arm tucked awkwardly behind her back.

“Come on, boy,” she cooed, then frowned. “Girl? Awww, maybe you’re a girl!”

His mind whirring with comebacks, he padded cautiously toward her, his head down to keep his fur over his distinctive eyes. When she lost her balance and moved suddenly, he jumped back instinctively, his ears flattening.

“Oh, honey!” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Come here. C’mon!”

Wondering how many dates it would take to hear her call him honey in human form, he inched forward until he was just out of reach. From his angle, he had a good view of her cleavage as she leaned toward him, her shirt gaping open.

He dropped his head.

No looking. That is so not right.

Stretching his snout into her open palm, he began warring internally about the morality of what he was doing. She was completely oblivious that the dog she was petting so gently was the man she’d be dining with in two nights.

“Such a good boy,” she murmured as something slipped over his muzzle, her free hand sliding it over his ears and releasing it as it hung loose around his neck.

Collar.

With a low growl, he pulled his head out of her hand and backed up before turning tail and barreling away.

*

Charlotte groaned inprotest as her phone buzzed again, waking her from a heavy sleep. She smacked around her nightstand until her fingers found the cell.

“I’m going for groceries in twenty. Care to join me?”

She squinted and looked at the sender’s name.

Alex.

Flinging her blanket off, she scrambled to the bathroom to shower, racing back to her room to reply.“Sounds good. Meet you at the tavern.”

She blasted through her routine, forgoing a ponytail when her wet hair refused to comply and tossing her work clothes into a bag. With a final look in the mirror to ensure her jean shorts weren’t too short and her black peasant shirt was the appropriate level of casual, she slipped on her sandals and jogged down the stairs to her apartment parking lot, gasping when she got into her car and the heat of the seat belt brushed her thigh.

Alex was leaning against his SUV when she arrived, sunglasses on and long hair pulled through the back of his ball cap. “Hey, Miss Charlotte,” he greeted, not even trying to hide his perusal of her. “Hop in.”

She climbed into the passenger side and looked around. “This is way cleaner than my car.”

Revving the engine, he backed up and turned onto the road. “I cleaned it out today so you wouldn’t see what a slob I actually am.” He grinned. “Don’t feel around under your seat. I ran out of time.”

As they walked into the grocery store, he reached down and scooped her hand into his. She looked down at the giant mitt encasing her fingers. “Worried you’ll get lost?” she teased, hoping her voice didn’t reveal the thrill that ran through her with the casual contact.

“Worried you’ll find some hot guy in the freezer section and leave me stranded with a single tomato and a can of tuna.” He smirked, tightening his grip a fraction.

Picking up a basket, he gestured toward the produce. “I just need a few things,” he said as they made their way to the fruit. “And I figured this was as good an excuse as any to see you before tomorrow.”

He led her through the store, weaving in and out of the aisles while they chatted about work and bosses. When they hit the pet aisle, he slowed. “So you said that dog from the park didn’t seem too thrilled with the food you put out for him. Maybe it’s the type.”

She frowned and scanned the shelves. “He’s probably just used to hunting, but there’s no way an animal that size is finding enough prey to keep him healthy.” She plucked a bag off the shelf and scanned the ingredients.

“Maybe he’s more of a raw-meat dog,” he suggested, leaning over her shoulder and wrinkling his nose. “That smells like rotting pig’s feet.”

“It does not.” Elbowing him lightly in the ribs, she sniffed at the bag. “Oh. Yeah, it kind of does.” She placed it back and sniffed at another brand. “Yuck.”

“Tell you what,” he said, tugging at her hand and leading her toward the back of the store. “I’ll grab a few cheap steaks and you can try it tonight.”

He spent an inordinate amount of time selecting the meat, finally adding three steaks and a pound of raw hamburger to his basket. Once they reached the till, she pulled her wallet from her purse to cover the dog meat.

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