Page 14 of Borrow My Heart

“Um…no.” He pushed through the door.

I proceeded after him. “I was kidding.”

“I know, it was funny,” he said, but I wasn’t sure he meant it. Not on my love list:Your potential suitor must think you are hilarious.I wondered for a moment if I should add it, but Chad’s handsome face shook that bit of vanity right out of me.

I let the door swing shut behind us.

The back of the shelter was amazing. There was a big grassy area with benches and ramps and tunnels where people could come and play with the animals. There was a walking path and a fountain. There was even a mini house, a one-room structure made to look like a living room, where the animals could practice their indoor manners. And in the far back corner of the space was a penned-in area where we took new dogs, ones we were assessing, to make sure they passed behavior tests before we introduced them to other dogs or potential adopters.

Chad unhooked the latch on the gate to the pen.

“Do they have names?” I asked, the big-eared old lady nipping at my heels again.

Chad cringed. “Probably. I forgot to look.”

“Did you notice if they came from an English-speaking home?”

“What do you mean?” Chad asked, tugging on the leashes of the dogs, who had taken to sniffing every square inch of grass they could right outside the gate.

“They’re older. If they’ve been spoken to in a different language their whole lives, that might help us now. You know?”

“That’s true.”

“Do you know the Spanish word forsit?” I asked.

“I don’t.”

Do you know the Spanish words forDo you want to grab coffee after work?That’s what I should’ve said but it felt too forced. Plus, I had no idea, none whatsoever, how Chad would react to that. And knowing how something was going to play out was important to me. I needed a subtler plan. Something I could explain away if he seemed uninterested. I pulled out my phone and went to Google Translate. “I learned how to saysitin Spanish a couple of months ago for the golden retriever, Bella, who was in here, but I forgot it.”

“I remember Bella. She was sweet.”

“She was.”

“Gemma!” The name didn’t register with me at first. It was being yelled from the grassy area behind us and I was waiting for my phone, the little wheel in the corner spinning, to provide my translation. The internet at the shelter sucked.

The dog had walked around my legs once and was now chewing on my shoelace.

“No, no,” I said, shaking my foot a bit.

Chad was in the pen taking his dogs off leash. He glanced up at me, his dark hair brushing his jawline.

“What’s your favorite place to get coffee? Maybe we could go after work.” The words came out fast and all at once, surprising me. I’d done it. I’d actually done it. The swelling pride I felt was quickly masked by panic as Chad’s expression turned to surprise, or more accurately, horror.

“I…,” Chad started. “It’s just I don’t really think that’s agood…” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose like something stunk. He was disgusted at the idea of going out with me?

How could I save this? Take it back? My cheeks were heating up, my breath hitching.

“Gemma!”

My brain seemed to jump-start along with my heart. I gasped and spun around to see Asher waving enthusiastically at me. I took a step forward and immediately tripped over the leash.

I caught myself with my palms before face-planting onto the grass. One hand landed in a small puddle that I assumed was pee, because most small puddles here were. Also, because it smelled exactly like dog pee. I curled my nose and glared at my short-legged companion, who was now sitting like a good girl, her tongue hanging out, making her look like she was smiling.

“You think this is funny?” I asked her under my breath. “I bet you do.”

“Are you okay?” Asher asked, rushing forward.

“Apparently, I forgot how leashes worked,” I said.

---