The Pet Stylist and the Playboy Page 4

  I bent to pet the dog and then sat down on the floor, giving each animal in turn some individual attention. I could hear Gus talking on the phone. I pulled out mine and texted Morgan.

  Me: Got any free time this week?

  I was surprised when Morgan immediately answered. He was usually busy almost every moment of the day.

  Morgan: You settled?

  Me: Not exactly settled yet, but I’m here. Would love some company soon.

  Morgan: I can come mid-week. I’ll let you know later. Text me the address.

  I did and tucked my phone back in my pocket. I was playing with the hound’s soft ears when Gus came back into the room.

  “Why don’t you walk up to the house with me and have some tea?”

  I thought about declining, but I didn’t really want to be alone.

  “Okay, thanks.” I stood.

  “They can stay in this area for now,” Gus said, closing the gate to the rest of the house. “Deirdre penned them out just in case, but none of the dogs we have at the shelter right now are destructive. You’ll have to evaluate the situation every time a new dog comes in. Some don’t get along with others. When that happens, you can pen those by themselves or with a dog they do get along with.”

  We left the shelter and started walking toward the big colonial in the distance.

  “Have you lived alone for long?” I asked Gus.

  “My wife died seven years ago. My son used to come by often, but now he’s gone, so I’m on my own. Like I said before, you’re doing me a favor. If I didn’t have you, it wouldn’t be long until I wouldn’t be able to run this place on my own. I would hate to let my animals down. You don’t know the weight you’ve lifted off me.”

  My cheeks warmed despite the chilly air. “You could have hired somebody else.”

  Gus put a hand on my arm. “Not everyone has the affinity for animals you do. Know your worth.”

  When we circled to the front of the house, I noticed a Range Rover parked in the driveway with a woman sitting behind the wheel.

  “Looks like we might have a new animal,” Gus said.

  We spent the next hour getting the big, black dog settled. We took him out to the kennel, and Gus acquainted me with the dogs there as well as their daily routine.

  By the time we finally sat down for tea in Gus’s big, renovated kitchen with its double oven and gleaming copper pans, it was way past lunch time.

  “Let me whip up something,” I offered when Gus mentioned ordering food.

  “You like to cook?”

  I nodded, pulling a few things out of the refrigerator. “Omelets okay?”

  “Love ‘em,” Gus said, and I set about making us each one.

  “You have family around here, Swish?” Gus asked as I worked.

  “No.” I didn’t want to sound short, so I added, “I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m used to it.”

  “I’m sure it was nice having the motorcycle club. They seem like nice guys.”

  I cracked another egg into the glass bowl. “Yeah. They’ve been great. It was time for me to leave, though.”

  “Your folks still alive?” Gus asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  He seemed to get the message and started talking about the dogs and cats. Each got a name when they arrived, and he said he’d hand over the naming to me from now on.

  “You’ll have to think of one for the new girl,” he said, referring to the black dog we’d just left in the kennel.

  I remembered the movie about the black horse one of my foster sisters used to watch all the time. “How about Beauty?”

  “That’s perfect. It’ll make her feel real special, too, which is important. Being abandoned doesn’t feel good. These dogs need some love.”

  As I grated cheddar cheese for the omelets, I thought, I know where they’re coming from. Maybe that’s why we understand each other so well.

  Finished cooking, I set the plates on the table.

  “This is delicious!” Gus exclaimed after the first bite of his omelet. “Where’d you learn to cook like this, young man?”

  I thought about giving a fake answer, but Gus had been nice to me and deserved the truth, no matter how much I disliked talking about my past.

  “I had to learn to take care of myself early. In one of the foster homes I lived in, there were several kids, all younger than I was. Our foster parents were gone a lot, so I taught myself to cook for everybody.”

  “That was very self-sufficient of you. How old were you?”

  “Six,” I said, avoiding Gus’s gaze.

  Gus didn’t speak for a moment. “Well, if you ever get the urge to cook, you can always come over here to do it. I exist on canned food most of the time.”

  I hated thinking about Gus eating canned beans and peaches. “I’d be glad to cook for us. I’ve always enjoyed it. I once even thought I wanted to be a chef.”

  “And you don’t anymore?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really fit into my life. I like it as a hobby, though. It calms my mind.”

  “That’s the way it is with my crossword puzzles. I’ll pick one up in the evening and forget everything else. It’ll be nice having you here. Won’t be so lonely.”

  I felt for him, because I knew lonely. Even at the clubhouse, I’d felt like an outsider. The guys were all nice to me, but I’d never really opened myself up to anybody because I had learned long ago relationships don’t last. The only person who I had allowed in was Morgan, and I think that was because I’d detected the same loneliness in him. He’d lost everyone, although now he had Zeke. I was happy for him about that.

  I thought about Dante and my longtime crush on him. There was just something about the man that did things to me. He was special. I was going to miss him.

  I already did.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Dante

  I spent half the following day at Gus’ before running into Swish, and when I did, he looked at me like he was seeing a ghost. With his arms full of clean, folded towels, he stood in the shelter hallway and stared at me.

  I’d spent most of the night before tossing and turning, worrying about him, and I wasn’t sure why. The place was great. Gus was great. It had just seemed weird not having Swish there in the room with me. Too silent. I’d kept wondering how he was doing, and if he’d felt lonely or uncomfortable.

  Had I been half as considerate about his feelings when he’d been living at the clubhouse?

  “Hey. Mind if I use the bathroom?” I asked. I had been cleaning out the gutters for the past hour and was about to piss myself. I’d considered doing it at the edge of the woods, but Gus had mentioned the young girl who came to walk the dogs, and I didn’t want her, or anyone else, to catch me with my dick out. Besides, I’d wanted to see Swish.

  “You came all the way out here to use the bathroom?” Swish asked, frowning.

  “What? I’ve been outside emptying the gutters. Didn’t Gus tell you I’m doing handiwork for him?”

  I had left in a hurry the day before, but I’d thought Gus would fill Swish in.

  “Um, no. He didn’t.” He stepped aside so I could pass. “Go ahead, it’s down the hall.”

  I went and took care of business, and when I came back out into the hall, I heard Swish talking and followed the sound.

  I found him in the kitchen, alone except for a fluffy, white dog sitting on a desk chair inside a penned area. Swish was mopping the floor.

  “...and then I’ll get you a fresh hoof to chew on.”

  “Hoof?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

  Swish jumped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  I couldn’t help smiling. Swish wore a pair of cut-off jeans and a T-shirt with the name of some obscure indie band on the front. As usual, his long, brown hair was pulled into a messy bun at the top of his head. For the past year, Swish had been using something to lighten the color, but he’d stopped about a month ago. Before that, he’d striped it pink
and another time blue. Now it was its true color, a dark mahogany, and it suited him.

  Suddenly, my fingers itched to comb through it.

  I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Who’s this?” I gestured to the little dog.

  Swish frowned. “Barney.”

  “What are you looking at me like that for?”

  “You’ve never taken an interest in the animals I work with before.”

  I guess I deserved that. While Ax and Foghorn had always gone out to see who Swish was grooming, I’d kept my distance, always wrapped up in my own shit.

  “Why are you working for Gus?” Swish asked, eyes lingering on my bare torso in a way that brought goosebumps to my skin. I’d lost the shirt as soon as I’d started getting hot.

  I shrugged. “I’m between jobs, and he needed the help. I’m not charging him much.”

  Swish’s dark eyes softened. “That’s nice of you.”

  I shrugged again, glancing around. The place looked cleaner than it had the day before.

  “Guess I’ll head back out to work,” I said.

  As I was leaving the kitchen, Swish called after me, “I’m about to go to Gus’s to make some lunch for us. Head up there in an hour.”

  I probably shouldn’t. I’d brought my lunch. But I felt bad Swish thought I’d left yesterday, not saying goodbye or planning to come back.

  “Okay, thanks.” I returned to the gutters.

  I’d just dumped all the leaves and debris into the compost heap when my watch alarm indicated it was time to head up to Gus’ house. I grabbed my shirt off the tree branch where I’d hung it and put it on.

  Trudging across the property, I took a minute to breathe in the clean air and appreciate the beauty of the day. Everywhere I looked, something was flowering. Daffodils grew in clumps around the lake, and early blooming forsythia mixed in the unruly hedges. I needed to get to work on them, but there were a couple other jobs that took precedence.

  “Dante.” Gus looked pleased to see me. “I’d forgotten you were coming today.”

  Yeah, and you didn’t mention I was coming at all to Swish, I thought uncharitably, and immediately felt bad. I hadn’t mentioned it to Swish either, nor taken the time to say goodbye to him. I had been out of sorts yesterday—far more bothered by Swish moving out than I’d thought I would be. As soon as I had left, I’d wished I’d been there again.

  I sniffed the air. Bacon.

  “BLT’s,” Gus said. “Isaac is spoiling me. I usually have canned soup for lunch.”

  I stopped in my tracks just outside the door to the kitchen.

  “Isaac?”

  Gus nodded. “That’s Swish’s real name, didn’t you know? I asked him if I could call him that instead of the nickname.”

  I paused before following Gus into the kitchen. Isaac. I’d never known that about him, although I recalled his last name was Paul. It suited him.

  Swish stood at the counter cutting three big sandwiches into halves. He smiled at me over his shoulder, and my heart skipped a beat for some reason.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starved.” It was the truth. I’d only had a banana that morning on my way out of the clubhouse.

  Gus sat down at the table. “Isaac, those sandwiches look delicious, but they’re tremendous.”

  “You can always save half for dinner. It would be good with some of that soup you like to eat.” Swish set a sandwich with some potato salad on the side in front of the old man.

  Gus unfolded his napkin. “It isn’t that I like the soup, it’s that I don’t like to cook. My wife was a wonderful cook. After she passed, my son often brought leftovers from the firehouse for me to eat. Nowadays I do the best I can.”

  “Your son was a firefighter?” I asked.

  “Yes. Fifteen years. Roof caved in on him in a blazing fire. He’d managed to get everybody out before that. He died a hero.”

  Swish put a hand on Gus’s shoulder, and the old man patted it. “I’ve made my peace with it. Jimmy died doing what he loved to do.”

  We ate for a while in silence until Gus asked what I’d accomplished that morning and what I planned to do next. Then Swish and Gus discussed the animals and their medication. Several of the dogs and cats had heart murmurs and others suffered with allergies that Swish had to keep up with. Every time Gus called Swish Isaac, I warmed to the name. Why had he been going by the nickname for so long, and why had I never thought to ask him what his real name was?

  “It must be expensive keeping all the animals healthy,” I said, not wanting to seem unsociable.

  “Folks help. I get donations, and the local vet makes house calls. Come to think of it, today’s his day to stop by.”

  Five minutes later, as Swish and I cleaned off the table, we heard a car rolling up the drive.

  Gus stood. “That’ll be Hugh. I’ll go meet him, and you two follow along when you’re finished. That sandwich was wonderful, Isaac. Thank you.”

  Swish smiled. “I’ll wrap up the rest and put it in the fridge for later.”

  When Gus had left out the back door, I looked at Swish.

  “How come you never told me your real name’s Isaac?”

  “Did you think it was Swish? You never asked.”

  I hadn’t, and I didn’t know why.

  “What is it?” Swish asked. The air around us seemed to have thickened.

  I shook my head. “Nothing.” I put the last dish into the dishwasher. “I need to get back to work. Thanks for lunch.”

  As I headed toward the kennels where Gus wanted me to fix a leaky faucet, I saw Gus and a tall, blond-headed man walking toward the shelter. The blond had a black medical bag at his side and was leaning toward Gus as though listening to the old man talk. Gus was using his walking stick again, and I wondered about his health. He’d said he had arthritis. I had no clue how he’d managed before Swish got there.

  I easily found the leak, as it was making a puddle by the outer wall and got down to fixing it. By the time I’d checked that off my list, I needed to piss again and headed for the shelter. If I was being honest with myself, I wanted to see Swish again, too. Learning new things about him, things I’d never bothered trying to find out before, had left me unsettled. Sure, I knew Swish was his own person and had a past that didn’t have anything to do with me, but the thing was, I’d never really stopped to think about that until now. It made me feel like a jerk. Here I’d thought Swish and I were like brothers, but I didn’t really know him at all.

  I let myself into the shelter and headed for the downstairs bathroom. As I was drying my hands, I heard deep chuckle followed by Swish’s laughter. I followed the sound to a room off the back of the kitchen where I found Swish talking to the vet, a wide smile on his face. I don’t know what they were laughing about, but seriously—how funny could it possibly be? And why was I so annoyed?

  Swish spotted me at the door and the blond turned around. He was a good-looking mother-fucker. I immediately hated him.

  Swish made the introductions. “Dante, this is Hugh Silvers. He’s the vet. Hugh, this is my friend, Dante Durham. He’s doing some handy work for Gus.”

  I shook Hugh’s hand, wondering how he and Swish had gotten so chummy so quickly. “Dr. Silvers.”

  “Call me Hugh,” the vet said, smile too perfect to be real. He had to have caps. His grip on my hand was hard and sure, and I found myself tightening mine before letting go.

  “So, Dilly’s going to be okay?” Swish asked Hugh.

  Hugh nodded. “She should be fine. Just don’t let her eat more than we talked about for a few days. I’ll stop by Saturday and take another look at her.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  “I’ll go have a look at the cats, then head out to the kennel.”

  When Hugh had left the room, Swish turned to me. “Did you need something?”

  I thought quickly. I’d had no reason to come back there after using the bathroom except pure nosiness.

  �
��Gus said there was a loose board in the living room. Okay if I fix that now?”

  “Sure. You don’t have to ask me.”

  I fetched my tool box off the porch and walked into the living room, the little dachshund mix I’d met the day before trailing along behind me. Fixing the loose board had been way down my list of things needing to be done, but I’d wanted to stick around inside until Hugh left. I’d been at it ten or fifteen minutes, when I heard them coming out of the cat room, once again sharing a laugh about something. Irritation crawled over me.

  “We’re going out to the kennels,” Swish told me as they passed through. I nodded, and after the front door closed behind them, I scrambled to the window. As they walked, Swish looked up at Hugh, shading his eyes from the afternoon sun with one hand. His nose crinkled the way it did when he was amused by something. This Hugh fellow must be a real riot. I hadn’t seen Swish this entertained—ever. The thought depressed me, and I had to ask myself what I was doing. Didn’t Swish deserve to be happy?

  When I finished in the living room, I checked my list and headed for Gus’s house where several things needed attention, refusing to look back at the kennels as I went.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Swish

  In the next few weeks, I began to settle in. Trying to go to sleep with the sound of frogs in the lake rather than sirens and car horns had been weird at first, but in a good kind of way. I loved being so close to nature. Everything caught my attention, from the spider that made a web in the bush outside the back door to the peacock and his peahens that stalked the yard. Gus said the fowl ate ticks and kept snakes away, but I would have loved them anyway, despite the male’s loud, plaintive call. By that time, I had my daily duties with the animals down pat, although I had still had to consult my clipboard because things were always changing. Three dogs and a cat had been adopted since I’d arrived, and two more dogs had been brought in. Someone had left a cockatiel on our porch in its cage. I guess they were afraid we wouldn’t take in the bird if they’d asked, but they needn’t have worried; Gus never turned an animal away, and I wasn’t going to, either.