Page 17 of Hound Dog
Greg nodded and his grin widened. “Hell, yeah she is!” He held up a hand for me to high-five. Gritting my teeth, I reluctantly connected my palm to his.
“Right. So, if you walk the Newfie today, do you think a girl in a nice dress is going to come over and pet a massive, drooling, shedding dog?”
Greg blinked, not answering me, but I could almost see the hamster wheel in his head turning.
Instead of giving him the chance to talk, I continued. “Sure, some women might. But we’re aiming to get you a few phone numbers on this one outing. And with a Maltipoo, you will attract more of the type of woman you’re looking for… just for this initial meeting. It doesn’t mean she won’t also love a Newfoundland. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t also love labs and pit bulls and Great Danes. But we’re trying to bait her to come over, pet the dog, and meet you. The Maltipoo will have the best success rate. Got it?”
“Ohhhhhhh.” Greg nodded and took a sip from his massive Nalgene bottle.
Thank Christ. He can be taught!
I threw another glance over my shoulder to make sure no one around us was listening to our conversation. I loved my small town, but God knew, those little old ladies could turn up their hearing aids and report back to my mom before you could sayearly bird special.
Yep, I was living a double life and no one in my family knew it.
I wasn’t a spy. Or CIA. Or a special agent or anything.
I was a matchmaker. And my new business,Hound Dog, was booming. A matchmaking service which specialized in pairing people with rescue dogs to help them attract and find their perfect match.
Looking for a woman who loves the beach and has a zest for life? Sunny, the yellow lab who loves jumping waves will inevitably draw her in. Or maybe you’re seeking a man who’s smart, organized, and driven. How about the Westie, Rambler, who is too smart for his own good and intensely talented at learning tricks?
As an added bonus, about eighty percent of my clients end up adopting the dog I paired them with. Andninetypercent of my clients claimed to find their ‘soulmate.’
Though I didn’t think Greg would be in that eighty percent today, maybe he’d adopt that Newfie he had his heart set on. And for me? That would be good enough.
Too bad I didn’t believe in all that ‘soulmate’ bullshit. But then again, cynicism wouldn’t pay the bills.
I breathed a sigh of relief and stood up from the park bench where Greg and I were chatting. “Okay, then. I need to get back to the bakery.”Before my brother, Liam, suspected I was up to something.“Meet me right back here in the park at twelve thirty sharp. I’ll have the Maltipoo with me, and I’ll even ask them to put the Newfie on hold for you. And we can go see that big guy together after.”
At the end of the day, if my job got a dog adopted? Then I’d say I did damn good. If it also got me paid? Even fucking better.
I slid a couple business cards out of my wallet. Greg definitely had my information already, but it didn’t hurt to have him help us spread the word. “Remember, no one knows I’m doing this. And you signed a confidentiality agreement yesterday. But if you like your experience and you have other friends who are discreet, please feel free to refer me.” I handed him a couple of the cards from the stack in my hand, then turned to cross the park.
“You got it, bro!” Greg called after me. “See you back here in a few hours!”
A breeze picked up, rustling the leaves and branches, and was a welcome reprieve from the heat.
Head down, I fumbled, trying to get the business cards back into my wallet.
“Oh my God! Watch out!” The shrill, but feminine voice cut through the quiet park, and I looked up to find a blur of dark curly hair and tanned skin on roller skates, clutching a dog leash… barreling directly at me.
I barely had time to register what was happening before the dog barked, and rolled her smack into me.
We both hit the ground.Hard.
My business cards spilled onto the grass while the dog ran in circles around us. His nylon leash pressed into my calf, twisting and binding us together.
The woman groaned as she pushed onto her elbows. “Bad dog, Tyson! No!”
“What the hell?” I murmured and tried to sit up. But with the way the leash was wrapped around us, I couldn’t without my knees knocking between her legs.
“Are you okay?” the woman asked. “I’m so sorry. I thought I could control him. It was fine until he saw a squirrel—” Her voice tightened, cutting off with a squeak. “Finn?”
For the first time since we collided, I looked up, catching the familiar warm, brown eyes and wide set mouth. Even though she wasn’t smiling, I knew that when she did, there’d be a dimple at the corner of her mouth. “Haylee.”
She was older. Her body had filled out, changing her long, lanky limbs into muscled curves. But without a doubt, that was Haylee. The girl I could have fallen in love with if I’d only let myself.
The girl I’d stood up on the night she’d wanted to lose her virginity.
