Page 48 of Slots & Sticks
“They must know that I’m the only one present who could talk some sense into you.” He gives Skinbad an experimental pat on the side. The little dog emits a halfhearted growl.
“Good luck. I’m already in love with both of them.”
Camden pets both dogs for a long, quiet moment. Eventually, he sighs. “You can’t save all of them, Dot.”
His words land gently, not cruelly, but I feel them anyway. Because that’s the problem — I’ve spent years trying to save everyone but myself. Mom. Dad. The stray things nobody else had time for. And maybe that’s why these dogs undo me; they’re the only ones who don’t ask for more than I can give. Just a soft voice. A warm place to land.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes as I hunch my shoulders. “I know. But I can save these two.”
Camden nods. Skinbad is falling asleep. His tiny snores are high-pitched and wheezy, and his little paws twitch from time to time. Bo’s awake, but she doesn’t seem inclined to move from her spot.
Two members of the shelter’s staff pass by the room. One pauses to stare at us before darting out of sight. We can still hear them, though.
“Did you see who that was?” she asks.
The guy she was walking with snorts. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Celebrities love to get pets and then dump them when they don’t want them anymore.”
“True. But do you think I could ask for a selfie?”
Their voices fade. I blow a raspberry at the door. “Jerks.”
“It’s true.” Camden doesn’t appear to care about their yapping any more than Bo cared about the barking of the other dogs on the way here. Skinbad is melting into his lap, tummy exposed for maximum petting access. “Plenty of celebrities do stuff like that. I’ve never understood it.”
“You’re not like that, though. You wouldn’t treat an animal that way.”
“Oh? What am I like?” His tone is playful.
“Right now? You’re adorable, but that’s only because you’re covered in animals.”
“Mm. Chicks love a man covered in rescue dogs, am I right?” Camden winks.
“Yeah. We do.” I get up from the couch and cross the room to sit beside him, with my legs extended so that Bo is between us. She lifts her head to give me a once-over. When I pass muster, she grunts and drops her head into my lap instead.
“If dogs like me, I must not be all bad,” Camden says.
“You’re not bad at all. You’re kind. And thoughtful. You treat people with care. Also, you’re a really good kisser.” Heat climbsmy neck toward my cheeks when I say that. Why can’t Ieverbe casual?
“You’re only saying that to butter me up so that I agree to put both dogs in the car.”
I caress Bo’s long, silky ears. “No, but it wouldn’t hurt, I guess.”
“Well, I can always get the car detailed later. And Bo’s a really nice dog. If things don’t work out with having her in the house, she can come live with me, and they can have regular playdates.”
I lean forward to wrap my arms protectively around Bo. “You can’t have my dog! You can’t have either of them!”
Camden chuckles. “I thought they were your dad’s dogs.”
“They will be, but since I’ll be living at home for the foreseeable future, it still counts.”
“Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”
I reach one tentative hand over to pet Skinbad. He opens his lazy eye at my touch. His upper lip twitches to reveal an unimpressive fang. I keep petting him until his eye drifts shut again.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I have.”
* * *
When Ginger comes back to get us half an hour later, she brings both adoption forms. Soon, we’re on our way to the front to settle up and pay the adoption fee. Based on the information I gave them during my first call, they’ve already run whatever background checks they had in mind.
