Page 42 of Bodybuilders for the BBW

Would he remember me? The dog stopped pulling for a second, plonking his butt down on the ground and panting as he surveyed me, then the others.

“Holy shit,” Rhys hissed. “He’s a beast!”

“And you need to be really quiet for a second,” I said, moving slowly closer. “Hey, boy. Remember me?”

“He just might,” the girl said as the dog’s tail wagged momentarily.

There was something tentative about it, but it beat a rapid tattoo against the floor as I walked over. Slowly, surely, no sudden moves, those big brown eyes stared into mine. There was a mute plea there that was at odds with his appearance. He was this massive chonk of a dog, muscle thick on his frame, and yet what he was asking over and over was don’t hurt me.

“It’s alright, boy. It’s alright.”

I made sure I was wearing the same scrubs as the day we met, to help build a positive association. Down on my knees, the dog changed trajectory, slowly but surely creeping forward until he was straining against the lead to get to me. His nose worked as he breathed me in, then he let out a strange little noise, right as the girl let him go.

“Hey, buddy!”

Why the hell did I think I wanted a cat? No feline would throw himself at me bodily, pushing his whole body into mine in a doggy cuddle, would they? My arms moved slowly, wrapping around the dog to ruffle his fur, then stroke his ears.

“Well, look at that.” The girl stood up, shooting me a broad smile. “Never seen Bronson react like that. Well, except for the girl that takes him for walks. Looks like Katie was right to approve your application.”

My pats slowed for a second as I was reminded of that shit fight. Not for long, though. I wasn’t entirely on board with Rhys’ plan, but part of me still held out hope.

“Looks like we need to introduce you to the others now, boy.” I turned around and gestured for Rhys to come forward. “This is who’s gonna look after you today.”

“Hey, boy!”

He was down on his knees and beside the dog in seconds, something that had Bronson shying back. The dog’s ears were flat against his skull, his tail working furiously, even as he pressed into my chest.

“Slow.” I glared at him. “Quietly, remember?”

“Shit, sorry.” His face fell. “Hey, buddy. I’m sorry for moving too fast. Honestly, I’m not a total dick. Just ask the guys.”

“Still to be determined.” Rhett came a little closer and stopped a few steps away. The dog’s ears pricked up as he pulled a packet of dog snacks from his uniform pocket, his attention entirely trained on my friend as he tore it open.

“Bronson loves snacks,” the girl said in a warm voice. “Just put some on the floor… Yep, like that.”

Rhett set the snacks down in a line before him, and Bronson pulled free of my arms. Head down, tail wagging furiously, he crept closer. One snack then another was scarfed down before he paused. The dog looked at Rhett, then the last one, the man waiting patiently where he was crouched down, not moving an inch when Bronson finally stumped forward. He scoffed the last snack down fast because Rhett lifted his hand slowly. Holding the fingers out, Bronson stopped, then sniffed the air around them, finally moving closer to carefully lick the tips.

“You’ll be OK.” He moved his hand to the dog’s chest, giving it a scratch. We all watched Bronson’s back leg kick against the floor in response. “Won’t you, boy?”

Maybe, that was the final answer. I admit I felt a selfish satisfaction when Bronson came skittering back to me. It was an odd thing, to see a dog his size, with such powerful jaws, press into me, looking for comfort, but I gave him a pat and then swapped the leads over.

“Thanks for letting us adopt Bronson,” I told the girl.

“Thanks for taking him.” She shot a harried look over her shoulder. “He wasn’t going to last here much longer. We tried and tried to get him into a temporary foster home, but we couldn’t find one where he would be the only dog. He needs quiet and peace to heal, the poor thing.”

“Quiet and peace,” I reminded Rhys when we got the dog into my car. He was the only one who could take the day off work to help Bronson adjust. “No games, no balls, not even running the washing machine until we see how he adjusts.”

“So I’m off laundry duty?” Rhys grinned at me. “Bonus.”

“Look after him until five,” Rhett said. “I’ll be back after that in time for you to go into the gym tonight.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, turning on his heel and marching back to his truck.

“Well, maybe you can get him talking, boy.” Rhys gave the dog a quick pat. “Break down those walls, because god knows I can’t.” He pulled away. “Meet ya at home.”

“Ready, buddy?” I said as I slid behind the steering wheel. A massive head pushed through between the seats so Bronson could look out the window. “Let's get you home.”

Chapter22

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