The Boyfriend Project (3 page)

I brought out two more dogs before lifting Bogart into my arms to carry him inside. He could walk, just not that well, and I felt like loving on him a little. I'd just gotten him settled in and was moving on to take a golden to the play area when I heard the door to the reception area open and glanced back. Avery and her six-year-old brother walked in.

I grinned when Tyler immediately squatted down in front of the first kennel and pressed his hand to the door. He had so much energy and excitement that I knew he would make a wonderful friend for a dog. For Bogart.

I started striding toward them. “Hey!”

Avery smiled. “Looks like love at first sight here.”

“You should look around,” I told her. “Make sure.”

“Oh, we will,” she assured me. “We're not taking a Pyrenees home. My mom made it clear she'd veto anything too big.”

“Avery, look!” Tyler cried out as he hopped over to the next kennel where a Jack Russell terrier was showing off by leaping onto the windowsill. “I want him.”

“First of all, him is a her,” she said patiently. “But we want something a little less rambunctious.”

“What's ram . . . ?” He screwed up his face.

“Rambunctious means energetic. You run around enough for ten dogs.”

“This one,” he said, and dashed across to another cage.

She just shook her head.

“We have a room where you can take a dog and play with him for a while, figure out if you mesh,” I told her as we joined her brother outside another kennel.

She studied the sheet clipped to the door that provided all the stats we knew about the dog and some of our guesses. The dachshund had been a stray so we could only guess
age, and as far as we could tell he wasn't housebroken. As though to prove the point, he lifted a leg—

Avery snatched her brother up out of the incoming stream. “Definitely want one that's housebroken,” she said.

“There's a really sweet basset hound over here,” I told her, and directed them toward Bogart.

Bogart struggled up and limped to the door. Sometimes I felt like the dogs knew exactly what was going on, that they were on display, that people were trying to determine whether or not to provide them with a home.

“What's wrong with him?” Tyler asked, squatting down until he was practically eye level. “Does he have an owie?”

“He has arthritis,” I said. Tyler blinked at me. Right, he probably didn't know what arthritis was. “Yeah, he has an owie.”

“Oh.” He pouted out his lower lip in sympathy and turned back to Bogart.

I looked at Avery expectantly but she was shaking her head as she read his paperwork. “What's the life expectancy of a basset hound?” she asked really quietly.

I couldn't lie to her, no matter how badly I wanted him to have a home. “Ten to twelve.”

She arched a brow. “That's going to give Tyler a really quick life lesson.”

I grimaced. “I know.” Since he'd been in the foster care system before Avery's parents adopted him, Tyler had enough life lessons under his belt already.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “But we want something a little younger.”

“No, it's my fault. I wasn't thinking. We did just get in a younger dog, adorable. Trained. His owner had to give him up.”

I took them to where Terri had placed Fargo. Tyler laughed and clapped when he saw the Lhasa. Grinning, Avery took his paperwork and read it over.

“Oh, he seems perfect,” she said.

“Do you want to take him to the playroom?” I asked.

“Absolutely.”

I opened the door. Eagerly, Fargo raised up on his hind legs, placed his paws on my thighs. He was a smaller dog, with tan-and-white curling hair. I slipped the leash on him and led the way to one of our playrooms near the reception area. As soon as we were inside, I released my hold on the tether and he raced over to Tyler.

Tyler giggled, dropped down on the floor, and began to play with the dog.

“Well, that's a good sign,” Avery said as she leaned against the wall, watching as her brother became engrossed in petting Fargo. “So I guess we're getting a dog.”

“You won't regret it, I promise. Just give him some tender loving care.”

“Dot said that was pretty much all I had to give her dogs while she was away. Tell me you'll be there to help.”

“Yep. I got the all clear from my mom for going to the beach. And Jeremy is in.”

“Great. We're going to have so much fun.”

I hoped so. Pressing my back to the wall, I was close enough to Avery that I could whisper. “So just to be clear, when you mentioned the bedrooms—you and I aren't sharing one, right?”

She shifted her gaze over to me. “No. I figured Fletcher and me, you and Jeremy. Are you okay with that?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page, or in this case, not in the same bed.”

Turning, she rolled along the wall until only her shoulder was touching it. “That night when you told your mom you were spending the night at my house—”

“Nothing happened.”

Avery furrowed her brow. “Nothing at all?”

“Very little. We kissed some, but mostly we sat out by the lake and served as a buffet for mosquitoes. I thought we'd do more. . . .” Avery was my best friend. I could tell her anything, but this was so personal. I felt the heat warm my face. “We chickened out.”

“You weren't ready. There's nothing wrong with that.”

“It's more like Jeremy wasn't ready. He's so cautious, wants to make sure we don't have any regrets.”

“Again, nothing wrong—”

“Avery, look, he thinks I taste good!” Tyler crowed, interrupting our conversation. Fargo had settled on Tyler's lap and was licking his hand.

I knew even if Avery's brother had heard what we were saying, he wouldn't know what we were talking about. I knelt down. “Those are dog kisses,” I told him.

He beamed. “He loves me.”

I knew being loved was important to Tyler. Avery had shared with me some of the challenges of dealing with her brother's insecurities when he first came to live with her family. “I think he does, yes.”

“Guess we found our dog,” Avery said. “Will they hold him for us until Mom can come by and get him after work?”

“Absolutely. Come on, Tyler, we need to take him back to his pen.”

“I want to keep him,” he said, hugging Fargo fiercely.

“You will,” I assured him, “but first we have to give him a chance to say good-bye to the other dogs. When your mom gets here later, he'll be ready to go. I bet you're big enough to walk him back to his pen.”

He nodded. I knew at his age being big enough to do things was important, too. As we walked down the
corridor, Avery leaned in and whispered, “Well played.”

“You learn a lot taking care of dogs.”

“You're going to make a good vet,” she said.

“Hope so.”

When we closed Fargo in his pen, he pawed at the door. I thought he was already in love with Tyler. When we passed by Bogart, my heart broke just a little because he didn't come to the door in anticipation. He stayed curled on the small bed set up for him in a corner, as though he knew he wasn't going anywhere.

Well, we'd just see about that.

Need you to come by the shelter after work.

I had a feeling that Kendall's text didn't bode well. She didn't throw around the word
need
lightly. She liked being in control, depending on herself.

Although a part of me also wondered if her text was simply a diversion to keep me from getting a haircut. I'd been surprised when she mentioned growing it out. Not that I hadn't thought about it. I'd looked like a young conservative since I was four years old. My parents were all about appearances. Outward appearances, anyway. People driving through our neighborhood saw “upper class.” They didn't see the insanity that occurred within the walls of our house.

I knew that I'd probably have another disagreement with my dad when he saw that I hadn't taken his firmly
toned
suggestion
to get my hair cut, but Kendall's needs had precedent over his wants.

When I walked through the shelter doors, I waved at Terri who was standing behind the reception counter.

“Hey, Jeremy,” she said. “Kendall's in the back.”

“Thanks.” I'd been here often enough that people knew me. I wasn't an official volunteer, but sometimes I came to help Kendall. She was a stickler for keeping all the cages clean, making sure all the dogs had equal attention. I'd left here covered in fur more than once.

I located her in the puppy room. She was holding a tiny pup, feeding it with a small bottle. I leaned against the doorjamb, crossed my arms over my chest, and just watched her. Her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail but several strands had escaped and were circling her face. Every now and then she would skew up her mouth and blow out a burst of air. The curls would fly around before falling back into place.

It was probably driving her crazy. She didn't like anything out of place.

But I thought it was sexy as hell. But then I thought everything about her was.

Looking up, she smiled the smile that had first kicked me in the gut. I'd been in the new school for all of a week, feeling out of place, missing my friends. Then she'd smiled at me in chem class when the teacher partnered us for a
project, and after that I was pretty much a goner—although it had taken me several months to make my move.

“When did you get here?” she asked.

I sauntered over, pushed the loose strands behind her ear. “A few minutes ago. What's this guy's story?” I trailed a finger over his soft belly.

“There's four of them,” she said, pointing to a small, gated area. “Someone found them under a bridge, abandoned. What is wrong with people?”

“They're idiots.”

“You got that right.” Setting the bottle aside, she lowered the puppy onto a mound of blankets where his siblings were sleeping.

“I'm not taking a puppy,” I said, hardening my heart to the thought. I didn't know how she worked here and left all these dogs when her hours were done. It took everything within me not to cart them all home, and I wasn't nearly as dog crazy as she was.

“That's not what I needed you for. Come on.”

We went out through the door into a corridor. Pens lined each side. Some dogs barked for attention. Some were quiet. Some ran around. Some were still. Kendall came to a stop in front of a door. On the other side was a brown-and-white-spotted dog with long flopping ears and sad, drooping eyes.
Uh-oh.

“Bogart?” I asked, dreading where this was leading.

“Yeah.”

“Kendall, I can't—”

“All I need you to do,” she said, interrupting, “is sign the paperwork, pretend you're adopting him. Then I'll take him.”

“You sign it.”

“I have to be eighteen.”

While I'd turned eighteen three months ago, she had fifty-four days to go. Not that I was counting, but I did have something special planned. Still, I wasn't comfortable with this deception. It felt like fraud. I'd spent too much time in my dad's law office obviously. “Have your mom come do the paperwork.”

She shook her head. “She'll say no. She doesn't want a dog.”

“So what are you going to do? Hide this one under your bed?”

“No, but once I have him at home, once she's met him—she's not going to make me bring him back.”

“You don't think so?”

“I can handle Mom. I just need you to handle the paperwork.”

I sighed. This was wrong on so many levels.

“You know what?” she said. “Never mind.”

Oh, thank—

“I'll just have Fletcher do it.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. I liked the guy but I didn't want him doing things for my girlfriend.

She took out her cell phone. I grabbed her wrist. She lifted her green eyes to me. I always felt like I was drowning when I looked into her eyes.

“You know he will,” she said. “He has no problem bucking authority.”

He was a tough guy, all right. Although not as tough as everyone thought, but he probably would sign the paperwork for her. He'd just think it was a lark. And really, wasn't the point to find good homes for these dogs? There was no better home for a dog than Kendall's.

“Okay, I'll do it.” I didn't think that I could sound any less enthused.

Still, Kendall squealed, jumped up, wound her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss on me that had me staggering back against a Rottweiler's door. He charged and I thought I actually felt his teeth nipping at my backside. Lifting Kendall, I jerked to the side and out of reach.

She started laughing. “You were safe.” Then she clapped her hands at the dog. “Jon Snow, down.”

He crouched. Sometimes I thought she was the female version of the Dog Whisperer.

“Jon Snow?” I asked.

“Yeah, Terri has a thing for
Game of Thrones
. Names all the strays after one of the characters.”

I chuckled. I guessed that was as good a place as any to get names.

She rose up on her toes and brushed her lips over mine. “Thank you.”

“We'll see if you thank me when your mom grounds you for the rest of your life.”

I needed my mom to fall in love with Bogart at first sight because I wouldn't be able to take him to college with me. No pets were allowed in the dorm.

To cover my bases, I bought a big red bow and secured it around Bogart's neck so she'd understand he was a gift to her. But that didn't stop her from glowering at me as soon as Jeremy and I walked into the kitchen with Bogart. With her hands on her hips, she gave me a very formidable glare. Or she tried to. I could see her softening as Bogart stared up at her with his soulful eyes.

“He'll keep you company when I leave for school,” I assured her. She was a freelance graphic designer, did most of her work from home. “I've been really worried about you getting lonely.”

She arched a finely shaped brow. Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and in spite of her age, she still had freckles that made her look adorable and too young to be scolding someone. “Yes, I'm sure my loneliness was a major factor here.”

“Okay, not a major factor, but I did consider it. The thing is, Mom, he's near the end of his life expectancy. He mostly just lies around. I couldn't stand the thought of him dying in the shelter, possibly alone.”

I was aware of Jeremy jerking his head around to look at me. I guessed he hadn't considered that aspect of adopting a senior. Some people adopted older dogs just so they could ensure they had a little bit of heaven here on Earth before they headed to the rainbow bridge. Of course, it was always possible that I was wrong and Bogart would be with us for a while. Life expectancy numbers were an average not a set expiration date.

“I knew it was a mistake to let you volunteer at a shelter,” Mom said. “I guess I should be grateful you went so long without bringing one home.” Then she narrowed her eyes at Jeremy. “What was your role in all this?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I signed the paperwork.”

“So legally he's yours?”

“Legally, yeah, but—” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I'm worried about you getting lonely, too.”

“If you're both that worried, get me a subscription to a dating service.”

I laughed, then sobered when a red blush crept up Mom's cheeks. It had been five years since my dad had died, but still. “Are you serious?”

She didn't meet my eyes. “It
is
going to be really quiet around here when you two are gone. So, okay, Bogart can stay.”

I gave her a hug. “Thanks, Mom. You won't be sorry.”

“Dogs are man's best friends for a reason.” She turned back to the stove. “Guess you'll need to go get him some stuff.”

“We stopped at the pet store on our way home,” I assured her.

She gave me a pointed look. “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.”

“Well, if you said no, I was going to take him to Grandma.”

“Her cats wouldn't have been too happy about that.”

She had three, but I figured Bogart was calm enough to get along with them.

Jeremy brought the items in from his car. We set the bowls in the utility room. Put the bed in my bedroom.

“I can't believe she said yes so easily,” Jeremy said while I sprinkled a few chew toys around my room.

“He's going to win her over,” I assured him.

When we got downstairs, Mom was tossing little chunks of meat that were supposed to go in the stroganoff to Bogart.

Yeah, everything was going to be fine. “So what can we do?” I asked.

“Why don't you make a salad? Jeremy, would you mind setting the table?”

He ate more meals with us than he did with his own parents. Mom had stopped treating him like a guest months ago. He knew his way around the kitchen and gathered up the plates while I got everything I needed out of the fridge.

I set it all on the counter, began slicing tomatoes, and tried to be as nonchalant as possible, although my heart was hammering as I considered my mom's earlier words. “So are you really thinking about dating?”

“Thinking about it.” Mom laughed. “Then I start to get nervous. It's been twenty years since I dated your dad. I'm not even sure if I know how to do it anymore.”

“It's probably like riding a bike, Mrs. J,” Jeremy said as he came back in.

Mom smiled at him. “Probably. Guess I just need to take the plunge.”

I tried to imagine my mom dating, having a guy in her life. So much would change and yet I didn't want her to be alone or lonely, either.

After dinner, Jeremy and I took Bogart for a walk along the running trail that snaked through my neighborhood. I didn't think I'd ever seen Bogart so happy as he scouted out the terrain. His limp was less pronounced. Maybe all he needed was to feel loved again. He had to be missing his original owner. I knew what it was to miss someone.

“I can't believe my mom is thinking about dating.”

“It's been five years,” Jeremy said.

I scowled, and he immediately looked contrite. “Sorry,” he said. “I'm sure you're more aware of how much time has passed than I am.”

My father had been involved in a freak car accident, driving beneath an overpass that was being repaired when it suddenly buckled—

I shook off the unsettling thoughts. I hated thinking about the randomness of it.

“I wish you'd known him,” I said.

“Me too.”

“He would have approved of us adopting Bogart. And your idea to put a big red bow on him was brilliant. How could my mom reject him after that? It softened her up.”

“I think Bogart did that all on his own. I guess tonight you just want to hang around with him.”

Looking over at Jeremy, I took his hand. “Yeah, if you don't mind.”

“Seems wrong to abandon him after just breaking him out of the joint.”

I laughed. “The shelter isn't exactly prison.”

He slipped his arm around me, guided me off the path into a little clearing edged by trees. “I like it when you laugh. You look so sad at the shelter.”

“I just wish I could rescue them all.”

“I know. You have such a big heart. It's one of the things I love about you.”

He lowered his lips to mine. One of the things I loved about Jeremy was his kiss. He always took his time and tasted of peppermint. I knew he carried a little stash in his pocket. He wanted to be ready for a kiss anytime, anywhere. So considerate, so—

“Get a room already,” a deep voice bellowed.

Guiltily, we jumped apart. Avery and Fletcher were standing there, both of them grinning like lunatics as Fargo wriggled on the ground between them. I glared at Fletcher. “Not funny.”

“I thought it was hilarious,” Fletcher said. “It was like you thought you were doing something wrong.”

“Maybe that's because you sounded like the PDA police.”

“He's just practicing his baritone,” Avery said, “for when he does become a cop.”

“We didn't appreciate the interruption,” Jeremy said.

Fletcher shrugged, not looking at all sorry.

I felt a tug on the leash. Bogart was inspecting Fargo's butt, Fargo was inspecting his. “Where's your brother?” I asked.

“He's not quite big enough for walking a dog,” Avery said. “His chore is to feed him.”

“Which was hilarious, since no one explained what that involved,” Fletcher said. “He fed him from his plate at the table.”

I smiled. I could see that, Tyler slipping the dog some food. I had a feeling there was going to be a lot of spoiling going on.

“So, did you just bring Bogart home for the night?” Avery asked.

“No, we”—I pointed between Jeremy and myself—“adopted him.”

“Lucky dog,” Avery said. “Glad we didn't take him when you asked us to.”

“I think Kendall really wanted him,” Jeremy said, slipping his arm around my shoulders.

I shrugged. “Sometimes you just connect with a dog.” I'd connected with too many to count, but Bogart had needed me the most.

Jeremy crouched and held his hand out to Fargo, who
came over and licked it. “Cute dog. When did you get him?”

“Today,” Avery said. “Kendall talked us into taking him.”

“I didn't force you,” I pointed out. “You chose him.”

“I think he chose us,” Avery said. “So far, though, he seems to be adjusting fine.”

“He's a sissy dog,” Fletcher grumbled.

Chuckling, Jeremy looked up. “What?”

“He's small, prances around.”

“They've got a Rottweiler you could adopt,” Jeremy said.

“No more dogs,” Avery said. “One is enough.”

Fletcher was living with her family for the summer. Another dog really wasn't an option.

“I like small dogs,” Jeremy said, and I was glad that he was unlike Fletcher in that regard and didn't view any dogs as being sissies.

“We're going out for ice cream after our walk,” Avery said. “Want to come with us?”

“We should probably stick close to home tonight,” I said. “So Bogart gets a sense of security.”

Avery furrowed her brow. “We don't have to stay with the dog all the time, do we?”

“No,” I reassured her. “You have other people at your house. My mom isn't exactly a dog person. She's fine with him, but she won't love on him like I will.”

“Who would?” she teased. “Okay, then we'll see y'all later.”

They walked away, and I took Jeremy's hand. “Are you okay not going with them for ice cream?”

“Bogart comes first.”

I hugged him tightly. “You're the best.”

Twilight had settled in while we were talking, so Jeremy and I headed back home. Besides, I didn't think Bogart could do a long walk. I just wanted him to get out for a little exercise.

“So what about staying at the beach with Avery?” Jeremy asked.

“We should still be able to do that,” I told him. “Bogart and Mom will have adjusted to each other by then.”

“I still can't believe she didn't get mad about you bringing him home.”

“I think she secretly wanted a dog. It's going to be lonely for her when I leave.”

“Maybe she'll have a boyfriend by then.”

I crinkled my brow. I wasn't ready for Mom to get a boyfriend. Dating was okay, but a boyfriend? I looked down at Bogart. Had she accepted him because there was something I was going to have to accept?

I shuddered with the thought.