Page 16 of Here Comes Santa Paws

“Like you know things.”

“I’m old enough to be your grandfather. I know more than you, I’d wager.”

“Slow down. This isn’t a foot race,” I barked.

Jim saluted me with his free hand, but he did slow down. His breathing had grown labored.

I wasn’t sure if Jim was more interested in setting me up with Elias or getting me to foster Carol. Neither were happening.

His chatter about his grandson’s saint-worthy traits didn’t stop the rest of our walk. I refused to indulge him, so I let the comments roll off my back. Except for the ones about Carol because I kept picturing Roxy. The more I tried not to think about it, the more my gut squeezed at the memory of howhard I’d cried when we drove away, off to our next home and adventure. How badly I’d missed my friend Warren. Especially as I’d honed my loner skills at the next school, and the next, and the ones after that, until Warren and Roxy faded into distant memories.

Warren, always earnest, had promised that we’d write letters to each other and stay best friends. He’d written to me, but I’d never replied. It had been easier that way.

When we returned to his house, Jim went straight for his recliner. I went over his PT homework until our session next week.

“I got it. And, Roman?” His expression was more serious than I’d seen on him. “Give some thought to fostering Carol. I wish I would’ve listened to Elias and adopted a pet years ago. Don’t be like me.”

I squared my shoulders. “I’m not lonely. I don’t need a pet.”

Jim’s eyebrows rose skeptically. “I didn’t say you were.”

Iwasn’tlonely. I didn’t need people or pets mucking up my life and making me feel like shit when, inevitably, I moved to take another job and keep working toward the next step in my career. My next adventure.

“Just think about it, okay?”

I offered a brief nod and let myself out. Once I reached my car, I checked my personal email for any updates on my job applications. I needed to get out of this town and away from its meddling people.

Chapter 9

Elias

“You’re such a good boy,aren’t you?” I rubbed Nutcracker’s belly as he squirmed on his back, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth in a wide doggy smile. Tinsel raced up the ramp against my bed and tried to squeeze between us. “I just gave you pets, you stinker.” Tinsel didn’t understand taking turns.

I loved lazy Saturday mornings with my animals. They were the rare times I got to pretend I had no adult responsibilities outside of caring for their well-being. I gave the munchkins treats while Krampus snoozed in her perch in front of the window. No rest for the wickedly cute.

After showering and fixing breakfast, I sat on the couch and pulled out my phone to start a shopping list. I needed to get some things for tomorrow’s pet photos and adoption event, so I might as well grab groceries too. My phone buzzed with a text from our volunteer photographer, Jasmyn.

Jasmyn: Hey, Elias. I’m really sick [frown emoji]. I won’t be able to take pictures tomorrow. I’m heading into urgent care soon to get some meds. I’m so sorry!

I let out a long, rough breath. Well, crap. I could take photos with my iPhone, but I wasn’t halfway as good as she was. Who else could I get on such short notice?

The dogs ran to the living room window and began barking. I heard the familiar sound of Roman’s garage door opening, then saw his silver truck pull in. Roman! His photography was amazing. If he could take those gorgeous landscape photos, surely he could do some pet photos.

I hurriedly put on shoes and a coat. By the time I got outside, his garage door was already closed. I braced myself and knocked on his door.

The front door swung open to reveal Roman still in his coat and shoes. “Yes?” He frowned.

Roman didn’t appreciate small talk, so I cut to the chase. “Do you have a few minutes to chat? I want to ask you about something.”

He let out a put-upon sigh but stood back. “Are you here to ask me about the dog again?”

“Nope, but I have a favor to ask you.”

“You ask for a lot of favors,” he grumbled as he closed the door behind us.

I’d been so frazzled the other night when I’d been inside his place the first time that I hadn’t noticed how it felt to share a room with Roman. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, but his presence took up much more space than his body. He’d been far from chatty since we’d first met, but something about his silence intrigued me. It was like his words counted more because he used fewer of them. Even when his few chosen words were snarking at me, I took it as a challenge.

“Want coffee?”

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