Seducing His Heart (11 page)

Chapter Six

Wide awake, Whit rubbed
his eyes. The skinniest, mangiest pug he’d ever seen was screeching
while Dumpling had him cornered. She growled at the other dog with
a ferocity that seemed incongruous to her size.
What the hell? That little pipsqueak? She’s damned
aggressive.

The scrawny pug dropped the rawhide chew
from his mouth and cowered. Bess was talking to Dumpling, but the
little female wouldn’t back down. Finally, her mistress picked her
up and hauled her inside. When the door closed behind them, Whit
stepped into the hall. The other pooch made eye contact with him
then quickly looked away.

“
Poor thing,” he mumbled,
crouching down and extending his hand.

The pug took a step toward him, but began to
shiver.

“
Don’t be afraid. I won’t
hurt you,” he whispered. But the big-eyed animal didn’t
move.

The door across the hall opened again. Bess
stopped abruptly, sucking in air. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Whit. I
didn’t mean to wake you.”

“
What’s going on? Who’s
this?”

“
My friend, Rory, does pug
rescue. Hers was aggressive with this little guy, so she brought
him here. I thought he and Dumpling were getting along, but then he
went for her bone, and it’s been World War Three ever
since.”

“
He looks
pathetic.”

“
He’s been mistreated,
starved. He needs help.”

“
Good luck. I hope you
find him a good home.”

“
I’m in a tight spot here.
I need a place for him to stay for a few days. Would you…could
you?”

“
Me?” He pointed at his
own chest, his eyes wide.

“
You don’t have a dog, and
you’ve got plenty of room. The little guy could get acclimated to a
calmer environment. Only for a few days.”

“
Why I couldn’t…I don’t
know anything…”

“
It’s wonderful of you to
say ‘yes.’ I didn’t know anything about dogs, either, until I got
Dumpling. Not much to learn. You’ll be great.”

“
Hey, wait! I didn’t say…I
didn’t agree…” Before he could finish his sentence, Bess picked up
the quivering pup, came over, and kissed Whit on the cheek. The dog
licked him. Suddenly, Whit was hooked. Bess transferred the pug to
Whit’s embrace. “What’s his name?”

“
Homer. But you can change
it, if you like.”

“
Homer?” He chuckled.
“Perfect. Like the poet, eh?”

“
Or Homer Simpson. Take
your pick.”

“
I don’t have
any…”

Bess held up her hand, interrupting him. “I
have everything. Wait here.”

“
Where would I
go?”

She disappeared into her apartment, which
started Dumpling barking again. When Bess returned, her arms were
full. Whit stood back to let her into his place.

“
Here you go,” she said,
padding into his kitchen. On the counter, she set down several cans
of food, a plastic container of kibble, a harness, leash, a chew
toy, and a small rawhide bone. She picked up the last item and
shook it at Homer. “This was the ‘bone of contention.’ Dumpling
decided she had to have it, and Homer wasn’t about to let
go.”

Bess found a small bowl in the cabinet,
filled it with water, and placed it on the floor. Whit eased the
pug down. Homer immediately took a healthy drink.

“
He’s kind of a mess.
Stinky, too.” Whit wrinkled his nose.

“
I’ll be right back.”
Again, Bess went home and then returned, to the accompaniment of
barking. “Here. You can borrow Dumpling’s doggie shampoo.” She
glanced around. “He’s small enough to fit in the sink. Give him a
bath, and he’ll be sweet-smelling again.”

“
At four in the
morning?”

“
Whatever. That’s up to
you.”

“
Where’ll he
sleep?”

“
Dumpling has several beds
around the house, but she spends the night in mine.”

“
Men must love that,” he
murmured, staring at her flimsy robe.

“
I’ve had no complaints,”
she said, blushing as she crossed her arms over her
chest.

“
I’ll bet,” he
chuckled.

Her blush deepened. “Thank you again for
taking Homer. I’m sure Rory’ll have a new home for him soon.”

“
I hope so. My hours are
irregular.”

“
Crash walks Dumpling
sometimes, if I can’t be home. Don’t worry. I’m sure everything’ll
be fine.”

Whit was petting the dog while he listened.
Homer licked his hand. “He’s stopped shaking.”

“
He must trust
you.”

Her confidence in him made
him smile.
She’s buttering me up, but what
the hell. Having a dog for a few days won’t be a problem. Might be
fun.

“
Homer’s a year old, so
he’s probably going to be active. But he’s house-trained, so he
shouldn’t relieve himself inside. You’ll have to pick up after him
outside. It’s the law.”

“
Got it.”

Bess covered a yawn with her hand. “It’s
late.” She headed for the door.

Whit put Homer down and took hold of the
knob.

“
Thank you so much,” she
said, kissing him on the mouth.

Before he could react, she
was at her doorway and gone. He touched his lips.
Nice.
“Come on, Homer.
Let’s get you cleaned up. You got me a kiss from the hot chick
across the hall. Guess you’re good luck.” He picked up the shampoo
and turned on the water.

Whit dried himself and Homer as best he
could after the dog’s bath. Homer shook off all over Whit, who
dumped his robe in the laundry. Then, he placed the damp little
pooch on the bed next to him. Homer curled up and was snoring
before long. Whit chuckled and fell back to sleep.

Homer woke him at seven, crying at the door
to go out. Whit threw on sweats, fastened on the harness, and out
they went. The dog went to the nearest post and lifted his leg.
After ten minutes outside, the animal was ready to return home.
Whit took down another bowl and filled it with food. Homer uttered
a small squeal before he demolished it in the blink of an eye. Whit
watched, astonished.

Shortly after eating, the dog threw up by
the front door. Whit cleaned it up, muttering obscenities at the
pug, and then went across the hall. He knocked loudly. Bess
answered.

“
He threw up.”

“
How much did you feed
him?”

“
He’s starving. I filled
the bowl, and he polished it off in about two seconds.”

“
Can’t do that. Too much,
too fast. Give him a smaller portion. When he keeps that down, you
can give him a little more. Get him used to a normal amount,
slowly.”

“
Why didn’t you say so
before?”

“
It was four o’clock,
Whit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

He returned to his apartment and began the
feeding process over with Homer. Then, he headed off to work after
giving Crash instructions and payment. He decided a trip to the pet
supply store during his lunch hour was necessary. Walking to the
studio, he whistled as he trotted briskly down the avenue.

That night, he returned
home laden down with bags of food, beds, treats, and toys for
Homer. The dog started barking as soon as Whit came to the
door.
Good little watchdog.
Once he was inside, the pug went wild, jumping up
on him, trying to lick his face, running in circles, and dashing
into the living room and back. Whit dropped his bags as he watched
the silly animal race from room to room.

“
I sure don’t get a
greeting like that from anyone else,” he said, laughing.

He leashed the wiggling pup and took him for
a walk. When Homer pulled toward the street, Whit tightened his
grip on the leather strap. Home again, he fed Homer, poured a shot
of good scotch over some ice, and sat on the sofa. The dog wolfed
down his food and joined him. Homer curled up, resting his chin on
Whit’s leg, and closed his eyes.

After reading his mail,
Whit looked down at the sleeping dog and smiled.
Almost like having a family.
Homer’s presence thawed a piece of his heart.

A ruckus outside his door with lots of
barking and laughter drew him to the peephole. He saw several women
and a bunch of pugs go into Bess’s place. He combed through all the
things he’d bought at the pet store and pulled out the ones he had
questions about. After tucking Homer under one arm, he marched
across the hall and knocked on the door.

* * * *

Bess held a glass of wine in one hand and
the front door knob in the other. There was Whit with Homer tucked
into his embrace.

“
Sorry to bother you, but
I’ve got this stuff that says it’s for ticks, and I’m not sure how
to use it or when.”

“
Come in.”

The minute he entered the apartment, the
women of the Dinner Club stopped talking. They looked him over.
Bess chuckled behind her hand, watching them checking him out. She
made introductions. The dogs came running in, barking. Homer
squirmed in Whit’s arms, anxious to join the others.

“
Is it safe to put him
down? Is Dumpling going to attack him?”

“
I think it’s okay. As
long as he doesn’t take her chew toys.” Bess bent down, scooping up
a couple of rawhides and other attractive toys that might set her
dog off.

“
I didn’t mean to
interrupt anything.” He lowered Homer gently to the
floor.

“
You’re the neighbor,
Whit? I’m the pug rescue person, Rory. Thank you so much for taking
Homer.” She extended her hand, and he shook it.

“
He’s great. We’re having
a good time.”

“
Glad to hear that. We’re
working to find him a forever home.”

“
No rush.” Whit raised his
palm. “I like having him around.”

Rory shot a glance and a smile at Bess. “You
might be able to keep him, if you’re interested.”

“
I am.”

The other women approached
slowly, their gazes traveling his length. A conversation about
rescues started.
I’m going to hear from
them when he leaves.

“
Let me have that. I’ll
show you how to put it on Homer,” Brooke said, reaching for the
packet of tick prevention medicine.

Miranda joined her, explaining how and why
it was necessary. Whit hung on every word. When the dogs came
racing back into the living room, Whit nabbed Homer, on the run,
and held him still. After the liquid was applied, the pooch broke
out of Whit’s grasp and raced into the bedroom.

“
You don’t think anyone’s
going to attack him, do you?” Anxiety knit his brow.

Look at him. Already the worried dad. He’s
going to be a great dog owner.

The women buzzed around
him, pouring him a glass of wine, offering him some guacamole. Whit
smiled, rested against the granite counter, and appeared to be at
ease.
Surrounded by beautiful women, of
course he’s not nervous. This is his element.

“
I’ve seen you before
.What are you all doing here?”

Bess explained how the club was formed.

“
No male
members?”

“
Women only,” Bess
answered, before returning to the
boeuf
bourguinon
she was re-heating.

“
Something smells
delicious,” Whit said, changing the subject.

“
I’ll bet a whole lot of
delicious smells come out of this place,” Miranda
quipped.

“
I get hungry walking from
the elevator to my door,” he said.

That sparked a discussion of their favorite
foods that Bess had prepared. Each woman had her own point-of-view.
Whit chimed in about mocha magic.

“
Why don’t we let him
stay?” Brooke asked, turning big eyes on Bess.

“
It’s not our usual…but if
y’all say he can stay, that’s okay. There’s enough
food.”

“
We never made a ‘no men’
rule,” Rory said, taking a sip from her glass.

“
I’ve got some great red
wine I can throw in,” Whit said. “Be right back.”

The minute he left the apartment, the women
clustered together.

“
Oh my God, you didn’t say
he was
this
gorgeous,” Rory said.

“
He’s much better looking
in person than on television,” Miranda piped up.

They buzzed about his hair, the width of his
shoulders, and the incredible clear gray of his eyes until the door
opened. Then, conversation halted.

His gaze traveled from face to face. “Was it
something I said?” he asked, his eyes merry with mischief. Bess
pulled him in and shut the door as the timer buzzed. A flurry of
activity began. Bess took out the stew, Miranda drained the
noodles, and Brooke tossed the salad while Rory finished setting
the table and lighting candles.

As they were ready to sit down, the dogs
raced into the living room. Their nose-radar alerted them to the
serving of dinner. Each approached its owner and sat, begging. Bess
passed out treats to everyone. She stopped at Whit. “Don’t hold it
in your fingers, you might get nipped.”