Page 38 of Mr. July

“That’s my line. Who are you talking to?” I held the phone away as Hunter strolled back.

“No one.”

“I’m no one?” Char shrieked.

“Is that my future wifie? Let me talk to her.” He motioned for my phone.

“I’ll talk to you later, Char.” While one hand pressed the phone to my ear, I swatted Hunter away with my free one.

“Is he seeing anyone?” Char asked.

“Yeah, my left fist.”

He came at me and we crashed to the gym floor rolling like two idiots as we fought for possession of my phone. It was juvenile as hell but for a few minutes I totally forgot about Ryan Hill.

Fifteen

“You must be Ryan.”

I liked Steve immediately. He was about ten years older than me, sandy-haired, with a surfer’s lean body and kind eyes. The rescue center was full of sounds. Paws scratching against crate doors, cats hissing at the dogs joyous barking that someone new was here. Maybe someone who would finally take them home. A few injured birds even chirped from cages hung in the window.

“Wow.”

“Is it too much?” He winced.

“No. I just, my heart already hurts for these cuties. There’s so many…,” I trailed off walking down the aisle of crates and cages.

“Some got left behind from summer. Who knows how? None are microchipped. Others were born strays. Our local vet takes care of them free of charge and we’ve had enough donations to cover vaccines and medicine.”

I wrung my hands as I locked eyes with a pudgy Corgi. “That’s Daisy. She’s seven and gets a reoccurring eye infection. Her owners surrendered her after saying the eye drops were too expensive to keep up with.”

I gasped, reaching my fingers through the metal crate to scratch her ear. “She loves walks on the beach, hot dogs, and a good nap.”

“Who doesn’t?” I smiled.

After giving me a brief tour of the facility, Steve opened the backdoor. There was a mid-size yard littered with dog toys and a trampled garden. “My wife tried. They loved her pansies.”

I stifled a giggle at the trampled flowers as he led me up a long set of deck like stairs. “You have a private entrance. It’s not much,” he shrugged apologetically, “but it’s clean. Well, minus the dog hair. I used to keep some of the dogs up here at night. We bought new furniture for our new place. You’re welcome to use anything you see.” The leather couch was worn but still inviting. A lobster pot doubled as a coffee table. My eyes were drawn to the view. Water views from every window, and the dock across the street.

“I’ll take it. Immediately.”

“You sure?”

“On one condition,” my lips turned up. “That I can walk Daisy whenever she needs one.”

He smiled with his eyes. “Done! Daisy has a few friends that love walks to. Roscoe, especially. He’s a young lab/retriever mix. But he’s more of a runner than a walker.”

“I need to trailer my boat, but I hope to have it in the water by next weekend.”

“Not a problem. Help yourself to the paddleboard and kayak out back.”

Steve printed the paperwork from the realtor. I signed everything, wrote a few checks and he handed me the keys. I had hope on my side and my Jeep was packed with my things. I moved in that night. I slept on the couch, ordered a new bed and mattress online. I woke up to the fresh ocean breeze blowing back the curtain. I grabbed my cell to check the time, noticing I had a new notification from the rental app that I never saw yesterday. I sat up, awake now.

From: homeowner1278

To: [email protected]

SUBJECT: GAME ON

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