Page 12 of Here Comes Santa Paws

My head swiveled toward him. “You?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I didn’t know you were a photographer.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

But I wanted to. “I know you take amazing pictures and are a grumpy dog whisperer.” Seeing him show kindness to Carol didn’t help my silly crush. Neither did watching him climb a tree to retrieve an older neighbor’s scared cat during a rainstorm last spring. Who needed Mr. Darcy in a wet shirt when there was Roman Schaffer in wet scrubs to admire? Creepily from the other side of my living room window, of course.

There was clearly more to Roman than he wanted me to see.

His frown deepened, which had no business being so attractive. I wanted to run my finger down his forehead to smooth the crease.

“Are you saying I’m a grumpy dog whisperer or the dog whisperer to grumpy dogs?”

“Yes.” I bit my lips to try and stop the smile threatening to grow at his exasperation.

Roman sighed. “What do you want?”

“I’m having an issue with Carol.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I can’t help but notice you don’t have any dogs. At least I’ve never seen or heard any.”

“Not all dogs bark incessantly.”

His deadpan delivery delighted me.

“So you don’t have any?”

“No.”

I could’ve sworn pain briefly darkened his features.

“Carol really needs to be in a calm home for a little while. She responded so well to you, and since I live next door, I could?—”

“No.” The word was sharp and harsh.

“You’re not going to let me finish my pitch?” I executed my pleading, puppy-dog eyes, which had often helped me get my way over the years.

Roman shifted uncomfortably and huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I understand you’re in a pinch, but I’m not the right person.”

I caught the flicker. The one I’d seen countless times on people who came into the shelter to volunteer, claiming they weren’t right for pet parenting. The ones who really wanted the companionship of a pet but were nervous to commit. More often than not, those who worried they wouldn’t be good cared enough to make sure they were great. The ones who never worried about their fitness as pet parents often returned animals because they’d underestimated the investment.

Despite seeing that familiar spark in Roman, I wouldn’t twist his arm. No animal deserved to be forced into a home. But Iwouldtry to address Roman’s concerns—even if he didn’t realize he had them. Roman might not be ready for a pet now, but I knew in my gut he would be at some point. He might get there if he fostered Carol and proved to himself he could be happy with a furry roomie.

“No problem. I totally understand. If you ever change your mind, we have a great fostering program. It’s a solid way to get used to having a pet to make sure it’s a good fit for your life. Have a good night.”

He blinked in surprise. I flashed a winning smile as I passed him and skedaddled back to my place before I further damaged our nonexistent relationship.

Chapter 6

Elias

The Christmas FallsFestival kick-off and tree lighting were exactly what I needed to replenish my energy reserves. The perma-smile never left my face as I worked through the crowd, passing out flyers for Sunday’s Santa Claws Pet Pics & Adoption event and the new pop-ups.

The tree lighting was one of my favorite events because it set the tone for the season. The twenty-foot tree in Sugar Plum Park was pure magic. Strings of multicolored lights hung in tidy rows, waiting to be flipped on, and families milled around, lining up for the perfect vantage point. Carolers in period costumes charmed the crowd with their beautiful voices.

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