Page 29 of Love in Mission City
“No need.” Jackson pushed the door with his shoulder and, moments later, was gone.
“Uh…” I felt like I’d just been shaken by an earthquake. Not because of Jackson’s attractiveness, but because of all that had happened in what felt like less than a moment.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” Gallia leaned her hip against the counter.
I let out a long breath, trying to center myself. I offered a sheepish smile. “I don’t know if they’re allowed t-r-e-a-t-s.”
Sheffield woofed.
Gallia laughed. “Probably the first word he learned. He came from a puppy mill that got raided. Horrific conditions. Byron brought him home at a scrawny couple of pounds when he was just a few weeks old. Fed him like crazy to get him up to normal weight and then has cared for him ever since.”
“How old is he?”
She tapped her chin. “Forty-two? I think?”
“Sheffield?” I nearly choked. I’d heard of little dogs living close to twenty. Miracle dogs. But not forty-two.
She burst out laughing. “No, Byron. I can see you’re a little interested. And maybe he’d already told you. But he’s a little shy. Or, well…” She waved off the rest of the thought.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, I want to know everything!
“Sheffie’s five. Been coming in almost as long as I’ve worked here. Byron rescued the pup just after moving to town. He used to live in a house east of town with—” She blushed. “Never mind.”
Damn.
“And Rosebud?”
“Rosie’s…I want to say about eleven? Byron rescued her last year. Hoarding situation. Not great. Poor Rosie never got out of the house and so pooped inside. Byron’s been working hard at training her to go outside. Mostly succeeding.”
“Except for today.” I winced.
Gallia waved me off. “Like I said, she’s far from the only one. Some dogs smell others and want to mark their territory. She’s just making herself…comfortable.” She crouched again.
Rosebud deigned to lick.
The woman straightened. “Okay. Yes, they are allowed snacks.”
Sheffield jumped again.
“He’s, um, enthusiastic.”
“Well, he loves cheese bones and squeaky toys.”
“And Rosebud?”
“Greenies and stuffies bigger than herself.”
Somehow, that all fit. I snagged my wallet. “Let’s do this.”
She grinned. “I like you.”
I liked her too. I liked Byron, Rosebud, and Sheffield even more.
Chapter Two
Byron
With trepidation, I knocked on 406. My meeting had run more than thirty minutes over. Which meant a stranger had been watching my babies for more than ninety minutes. Either way too long or just right. Being the pessimist I was, I figured too long. A stranger whose name I didn’t even know. I had his messenger bag with his laptop. He had my precious dogs.
