A Puppy And A Christmas Proposal. Louisa George
room, tail wagging, paws thumping, and yelping so enthusiastically it tugged at Alex’s heart. ‘What kind of dog is he?
Beth opened the cage and helped Spike jump free onto the ground. She bent down and ruffled the back of his neck. ‘This beautiful boy is the best kind there is. A pure-bred mongrel.’
He was so out of his depth here. ‘Is that a thing?’
‘Alex, really? It means he’s a cross. I think there might be some Labrador in there. He has huge paws so he’s going to be big, but he hasn’t got a lab tail. This is more beagle. He’s got the tricolour patching, but...’ She frowned and ran her hands over Spike’s ears. ‘The ears are wrong...’
‘Wrong?’ Alex felt strangely protective all of a sudden. ‘There’s nothing wrong with his ears.’
‘I mean the ears are wrong for a beagle. Look, these are pricked. Beagle ears are pendant. Well, actually...’ she smiled and held up one ear ‘...he has one of each. I guess we’ll know more when he’s older and grown into himself.’
‘I don’t really need to know as I’m not keeping him.’ He absolutely could not have a pet. They were too tying. You couldn’t take a puppy climbing up a mountain. Hiking, yes, but not rock climbing. And nothing was going to stop Alex from doing the things that kept him sane. ‘Does he have a microchip?’
She ran a scanner over Spike’s neck. Finally. Then she frowned. Repeated the scan. ‘No. Nothing.’
‘So, he’s a stray?’
‘Well, I’d say he’s at least three months old and the law now says a keeper—not an owner—has to microchip. If he hasn’t got one then either the keeper hasn’t got around to it yet or chances are he’s a stray, or lost or...’ she shrugged sadly ‘...dumped.’
‘Dumped? What the hell?’ He wasn’t going to keep the dog but, hell, dumped? ‘In winter? At Christmas? What happened to goodwill to all men and men’s best friends?’
‘It happens. Rather more than you’d think. Sometimes the dog is too fussy, or too difficult to train. Sometimes circumstances change and they have no room for a puppy any more. Sometimes they just fall out of love with the idea of having a pet.’ She pushed the pup’s mismatched ears back and rubbed his muzzle. ‘You are so gorgeous.’
She was rewarded with a lick on her cheek and smiled. Finally. But it had taken a dog and not this human to crack that. It bothered him that even after all this time he still wanted to see the pretty smile that lit up her face and made her eyes dance brightly. He should have moved on. He had to move on, because he’d given up his chance with her and, besides, she wouldn’t want him again once she knew the truth he’d been hiding from her. From pretty much everyone.
She stood and wiped her palms down her trousers. ‘You’re going to have to take him home, at least for tonight. Bring him back in the morning and we can see if anyone’s reported him missing by then.’
‘I can’t take him back there. He’s already weed on the carpet and nibbled a hole through my best climbing shoes.’
‘Oh, no? The horror! Really? That’s nothing compared to what I have to put up with in my job.’ Her hands hit her hips and her head tilted a little as she stared at him. ‘A nibbled shoe? Poor, poor Alex.’
‘Say it like you mean it.’
‘I mean every word.’ She shot him a look of disdain, but it was laced with a faint tinge of humour that gave him a powerful thump to the chest. Because he wanted her to forgive him for hurting her. He wanted things to be okay between them instead of this difficult defensive manner she took whenever she was with him. A smile was a good first step.
But the smile quickly faded. ‘You know, Alex, I really haven’t got time for this. You tried the pound in Kendal, right? I’ll call the one in Ulverston. I know it’s a long shot, being so far away, but who knows?’
He watched as she made the call and was thrown back eight years. How, when she was on the phone checking in on her mum, he’d wrap his arms round her waist and hold her close. How he’d run his fingertips over her freckles and try to count them, and she’d laugh and tell him that infinity was the number of freckles on her body and that he’d never, ever be able to count them all. How he’d nuzzle his face into her hair and tell her she was the most beautiful girl in the world. And she still was, without a doubt. Not just in the way she looked, but in her compassion and good-heartedness...if not towards him.
He jumped when she said something and he realised she’d ended the call and was now talking to him. ‘The Ulverston pound is full too. They said they’re often the first place people ring when they’re missing a pup, but they’ve had no one call them over the last few days, and definitely not for a puppy matching this one’s description. They suggest you take him home and we’ll try again in the morning.’
‘We?’ He couldn’t suppress his grin.
Her eyes blazed irritation. ‘You. I mean you’ll have to try in the morning. After you’ve taken him home.’
‘I’ve just told you, I won’t have anything left if he spends the night at my house. Can’t you have him? You have everything set up here for a puppy. Food, beds...you.’ A night with Beth? One more night?
No.
‘No.’ Her lips pursed and he was glad that was something they both agreed on. ‘I stopped doing you favours a long time ago, Alex Norton. I can’t have a boisterous puppy in here stressing Meg out and distracting me from giving her all the love and attention she deserves. That’s just not fair. She needs peace and quiet.’ She gave him a look that seemed to say, Like me. I need peace and quiet away from you. ‘Maybe it would be good for you to think about someone other than yourself for a change and take—’
‘Hey, I’m a doctor. I think about other people all the time.’
But that was what she thought. She believed he was selfish and self-centred. And he was. He’d had to be just to get through the months of debilitating treatment and recovery. But letting her go had been the single selfless act in the whole damned episode. He couldn’t have let her go through what he’d endured when his cousin had been sick; the long hours at the hospital desperately hoping for a miracle, the despair at Mikey’s suffering, the prayers and then...the loss of hope. He’d watched his family drowning in grief that had been raw and unending and all-consuming and had known the moment the specialists had sat him down and explained his prognosis that he wouldn’t put Beth through that.
Clearly not wanting to hear any more, she went to the shop section and pulled supplies out for him. ‘Here are some training sheets if you can’t cope with a bit of wee. Put them on a floor where you don’t have carpet. Your kitchen, perhaps? Here’s a bed for him, a couple of toys. Some food. A soft cage you can put him in while you’re not able to watch him. Don’t worry if you don’t have the cash, we take all major credit cards.’ She scratched the back of the puppy’s neck. ‘There you go, Button. Do your worst at Alex’s.’
‘How about “be a good boy”? Or, “don’t wee on the heirloom rug or eat Alex’s favourite trainers”?’
She eyed him wryly. ‘I thought you wanted me to say it like I mean it.’
‘I’ve changed my mind. And Button? His name is Spike.’
‘He is so far from a Spike it’s a joke. Look at those eyes—they’re like little dark buttons.’
He couldn’t argue with that. ‘But Button is a...a feminine name and he’s not a girl. And that tail is all spiky.’
‘No way. It’s a sickle tail not a spike.’ She drew shapes in the air; one arcing and one pointing straight up. ‘Sickle. Spike. See the difference?’
He ran his fingers up the fluffy tail. ‘It spikes if I hold it up.’
‘Whatever.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll just have to agree