Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“Your foot is dirtier than my hand,” Jean said, but it was undeterred. He didn’t care and wasn’t interested, but his gaze went to the card hanging from the bottom corner. The scrawling handwriting was such a violent turnoff he almost walked away, but Jean put a finger to the first word and fought his way through the description. A six-year-old mutt who’d been given up when the owner moved out-of-state, supposedly.
Jean pressed his fingernail hard against the paper. “Your parents threw you away, too.” That was too sour a thought to dwell on, so he flicked the dog a bored look. Did this creature ever blink? Maybe it perfectly timed its own to his and that was why he always missed it. Jean stared it down, refusing to lose to a beast he could easily shove inside his backpack. He lost, but only because the dog pawed at his hand through the grating and startled him into withdrawing.
“Oh, that’s Rex,” Christian said from a few kennels down. “He’s not very friendly.”
“Neither am I,” Jean said.
“He doesn’t bite,” Christian hurried to say. “He’s just a bit depressed, I think. Last owner gave him up a couple months ago. He wasn’t crate trained, so he’s not adjusting well to the kennel life, and people seem put off by his age. Everyone wants a cute puppy, right? If he’d perk up a bit more, he’d have a better chance of getting out of here.”
He gave a helpless shrug, then turned his full attention back to Jeremy. Jeremy was currently crouched in front of a kennel with both hands hooked on the grate. Jean wasn’t sure what dog he was staring at now, but he looked so blissed out Jean couldn’t watch him for long.
Jeremy was running out of kennels; he would have to decide soon if one of these animals stood out more than the rest. Jean looked back at Rex, who had his toenails hooked on the grate now. His toe pads were black and warm to the touch, and he let Jean unhook his foot without protest. The most he did was snuffle at the front of his kennel, and Jean grudgingly left his hand where the dog could smell it. Rex sniffed so enthusiastically Jean started to feel unclean, and then a hot and wet dog tongue had him snatching his hand back again.
“Rex, you said?” Jeremy said right at his ear, and Jean nearly jumped out of his skin. The wide-eyed look Jeremy turned on him for that reaction had Jean scowling and looking away. Christian went over Rex’s story again with unflagging patience, but Jeremy’s stare never wavered. Jean refused to return that look but feigned intense interest in the card on the neighboring cage. At last Jeremy took pity on him and put out a hand for Rex to sniff. “Hi, boy. How are you? Oh, you really do have such sad eyes.” To Christian he said, “Can we see him?”
“You’re looking right at him,” Jean said.
Christian popped the bar out of place and swung the door open. Jeremy offered Rex his hand, waited while the dog snuffled at it, and brought the other up when Rex got bored of the first. “Hi,” he said again. “Can I touch you? Can I hold you? Is that okay?” He waited like he thought the beast might answer, then gently hooked his hands around him.
“Oh, oh, oh,” he said as he lifted the dog from the cage, and he cradled Rex to his chest like a baby. The dog immediately draped his head on Jeremy’s shoulder and let out a world-weary huff. Jeremy closed his eyes at the sound of it and pressed a kiss to the dog’s shoulder blades. Thump-thump, went the tail, before Rex tucked it neatly against his legs. Jeremy swayed this way and that for a minute, looking more relaxed and at peace than Jean had seen him in months.
Maybe Jeremy felt his stare, because he asked, “Do you want to hold him?”
“No,” Jean said immediately. “Never.”
“He doesn’t mean that,” Jeremy assured Rex, with another kiss to his shoulders. He opened his eyes and turned toward Christian. “He’s so sweet, and he looks like he’s the right size for our apartment. Does he check the rest of the boxes?”
Christian tapped the top of his page, where Rex’s kennel number was the last in line. It was one of two that had a question mark scribbled in above it. “He’s housebroken, neutered, and up to date on all his shots,” he said. “The only thing we can’t guarantee is how he’ll react to being left alone in the apartment. Might have some lingering abandonment issues. He doesn’t fuss when we leave the room unattended, and we haven’t noticed any distress on the overnight security cameras, but it’s a strong ‘probably okay’ and not a promised ‘yes’ that he can handle it.”