Page 24 of Perfectly Leashed
Darcy’s apartment turned out to be above a bakery, a small complex painted cheerful yellow with flower boxes under each window.
Following him up the narrow stairs to his second-floor apartment, Luca noted how Darcy fumbled with his keys, hands a little shaky. “Sorry, my place is nothing fancy.”
But when the door opened, Luca found himself impressed by how clean everything looked. Mismatched furniture, sure—a blue couch that had seen better decades paired with a wooden coffee table that belonged in someone’s grandmother’s house. There were different styles of chairs around a small dining table, artwork that looked like thrift store finds, while bookshelves built from milk crates lined one wall.
Somehow Darcy had managed to make it look intentional rather than desperate. This small space was lived-in but cared for.
Everything was spotless, not a dish out of place or a speck of dust on the surfaces.
“Just give me two seconds.” Darcy rushed toward a closet, pulling out an armload of colorful leashes. “I organize them by dog size and temperament. Princess Consuela gets the pink one because she’s dramatic, and Atlas needs the heavy-duty climbing rope because he’s basically a small horse.”
Watching him fuss over the leashes with genuine care made something warm unfurl in Luca’s chest. Most people saw dog walking as easy money, but Darcy treated each animal like they mattered.
“Ready to face the chaos?” He held up the bundle of leashes like a victory flag. That playful tug at the corners of his lips lit a spark inside Luca. His chest tightened, as though the air itself became richer, more alive.
“We can leave the bike here,” Luca said. “Walk from your place.”
Back outside, he parked the bike in Darcy’s designated spot. Morning air carried the scent of coffee and fresh bread from the bakery below, mixing with exhaust and the green smell of trees lining the sidewalk.
Walking was a good way to stretch his legs, and Luca wanted to spend as much time as he could with the male.
Even this early, heat was already building, promising another scorching day. But Luca found himself enjoying the easy rhythm of walking beside Darcy, watching him mentally prepare for battle with six pounds of stubborn dachshund.
Princess Consuela proved to be every bit as difficult, prancing like royalty around Darcy’s ankles while he clipped on her rhinestone leash.
Luca stepped in with a quiet command in Spanish, and she immediately sat at attention.
“One down, three to go,” Darcy said, checking his phone. “We might actually pull this off.”
Meatball bounded over like they were his long-lost family, while Atlas maintained his dignified Great Dane composure until a butterfly caught his attention. Finally Jimbo, the Doberman who’d apparently decided Darcy was acceptable pack material.
By the time they’d collected all four dogs, Luca felt the familiar satisfaction of a pack moving in harmony. Even Princess Consuela trotted along without her usual dramatics, sensing the calm energy he projected.
He watched Darcy’s posture, noting how much more relaxed he seemed compared to their first meeting. Still tense, but not braced for disaster every second.
“You’re getting better at this,” he said as they turned onto Main Street.
“How do you do that?” Darcy asked as they walked, watching Luca guide Jimbo away from a tempting garbage can with nothing more than a soft clicking sound. “Is it easier for you to control them because you’re a wolf?”
The question caught Luca off guard, though it probably shouldn’t have. After his pain-medication confessions yesterday, Darcy knew the truth. Might as well be honest about it.
“Yeah. They recognize the predator in me, accept me as pack leader,” he said as they walked down the tree-lined street. “Pack hierarchy makes sense to them.”
“God, I wish I had that kind of control.” Darcy tugged gently on Meatball’s leash as the pit bull tried to investigate a discarded hamburger wrapper. “Instead I get the full democracy experience. Every dog votes, nobody agrees, chaos reigns supreme.”
“You’re getting better. More confident.”
“Only when you’re here.”
Something in his tone made Luca glance over. Vulnerability flickered across Darcy’s features before he looked away, focusing intently on untangling Princess Consuela from Meatball’s leash.
“Takes practice, cariño,” Luca assured him.
“Practice,” Darcy said dryly.
“Mind if we swing by the shop?” Luca asked as they approached his garage. “Want to check on something.”
“Sure, but I’m not letting Meatball near any more tires.”
