Page 84 of There Are No Words

Brady

Waiting for Allegrato get home from work was torture.

First of all, it was safe to say that I knew next to nothing about having a dog. And I’d swear this dog knew it, too.

In the hour since we’d been home, she’d pissed on the floor. I’d cleaned it up.

She’d shit on the floor. I’d cleaned it up.

Then she’d ran around in circles after sniffing every damn inch of the place.

And finally, when I tried to get her new collar and name tag on, she’d ran away and cowered. It was like she knew the collar meant leash, and the leash meant loss of freedom.

Now, let’s talk about that name tag. Yep, I’d named her. I couldn’t help myself. She had a long rat’s tail (at least that was how I saw it). Anyway, it was all blue-gray (gray to me, but whatever) with a white tip. Her paws were also white, each increasing in the amount of white as you went around. So the first one looked like she’d stepped in white paint, then the next had a little more white, and so on, until finally her second back leg was almost entirely white. It was interesting. But about that tail. . . it had given me an idea for her name. Ready for it? Tipsy.

Perfect, right?

Between my serving drinks and her tail tip and all,Ithought it was pretty damn perfect.

Back to the terror that Tipsy was, though, yeah, I definitely wasn’t cut out for dog ownership.

But Allegra. . . she’d be great.

So where the hell was she?

Running down the hallway after Tipsy, I heard the door open and said a silent prayer of thanks. I definitely wasn’t a religious man, but getting her home called for it. I’d managed to corner Tipsy by the bathroom and lifted her into my arms.

As I turned to walk out, I connected with Allegra, who backed up, a stunned look on her face. “Uh, Brady? What’s that?”

I pushed all three pounds of the little fur ball (not really, this dog had practically no fur, it was all skin and incredibly short hair) into Allegra’s arms. “Meet Tipsy. She’s an Iggy. I bought her for you.”

Eyes growing wider by the second, she held Tipsy out like a football. “Umm. . . why?”

“It’s a puppy. So you can have proof that you’ll be a good mother to our daughter. Consider Tipsy practice.”

“Practice?” Allegra asked, setting the now-wiggling dog down on the floor. “I’m sorry. What the hell happened after you left my office?”

All right, why wasn’t she getting this? Wasn’t it brilliant? I sure as shit thought it was. How could she not see how genius it was?

“Listen, I heard you in your office. This is my solution to your problem. She’s cute, right? She’s Italian. I was assured she was. And she’s ashe, so that’s pretty perfect, huh?” I looked down at Tipsy, hoping that now that Allegra was home, she’d behave.

Allegra walked to the couch and sat down, holding her back. I could only imagine how the weight of our baby was starting to hurt her back. With each day she was growing bigger. I couldn’t get enough of it—her—knowing she was carrying our baby—but I still felt bad when she suffered.

Sitting down next to her on the couch, I shifted her so I could get to her back and start rubbing.

Allegra moaned at my touch. If Tipsy hadn’t been here, sitting at Allegra’s feet and looking at us expectantly, I swore I would have done something else to hear her moan.

Finally, she said, “About this dog.”

“Tipsy,” I supplied.

She nodded and looked over her shoulder at me, her hand hanging down off the couch so it could be properly sniffed and licked. “Sure, Tipsy. What’s the deal? Is this some kind of joke? Is she a loaner for the night? Are we dog-sitting?”

Moving my way up her back, I reached the top and worked one of her tight muscles by her shoulder. “Nope. It’s my gift to you. A puppy.”

“A gift? You do know that soon we’re having a baby? Don’t you think a dog will be a lot?”

I lifted a shoulder to shrug, but paused, looking down at Tipsy. I considered what she’d said. “It’s possible. But she’ll be good. The store owner said she’s calm. Although, I haven’t seen it yet. I figured with you being here, things would be better, though.”

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