“Dr. Chewy’s,” he read aloud.“Fresh herbs. Organic fruits and vegetables. Regional blueberries and carrots. Organic meat, free-rangechickens, and fish caught in the wild. Huh. It even has kelp, marigolds, andjuniper berries.” The fancy ingredients no doubt justified the outrageous pricetag. He reached for it.
Beside him, Natalie’s rosy lips quirked into a smile,looking as though they were holding back a laugh. “Dogs in the wild don’t eatblueberries and carrots. Or kelp. Or marigolds. Not as a general rule anyway.”
He retracted his hand and exaggerated a crestfallen look.“No?”
She plowed on. “Proteins are good, and the more theyresemble what he’d eat in the wild, the better. Youdon’t have to pay through the nose for healthy dog food.”
Pretty and practical.“And you wondered why I wanted to bring you along.” He caught a whiff ofher hair as she turned, appreciating other good reasons to have her there.
At checkout, he caught himself as he was going for hiscredit card—his real name was on it—switching gears to cash. Though herarely spent much, he usually carried a lot. The clerk told him the amount, andT.J. opened his wallet and pulled out a wad of bills. Out came a condom thathit the counter with an unnaturally loud thwack, as if announcing itselfto the whole goddamn world.
The clerk’s eyes bounced between him and the foil packet. Atleast she kept her comments to herself. He didn’t dare look at Natalie becausehe was pretty damn sure his face was on fire. The harder he tried to pick upthe damn thing, the more it eluded him, making the effort agonizingly slow andhumiliating. Damn it! Natalie’s graceful hand deftly grasped it anddropped it into his open palm; she didn’t utter a sound.
“Thank you,” he mumbled.
They made their exit, heads down, and he picked up on chokingnoises coming from her—or were they snorts? He wasn’t sure, but whatever theywere, he felt like a total moron. Of course, he didn’t need to hear her laughto feel that way—he was good at reminding himself what a dumb fuck he was.
Looking up at him, she flashed him a brilliant smile. “Youmust’ve been a boy scout.”
“Because?”
“Because they’re always prepared.”
Smartass. Shaking his head, he sprouted his own smileto hide his epic embarrassment. “I wish I could say that was the case.” Sadly,it’s been in there so long I forgot about it.
She quickly cast her eyes away before he could read herexpression. Did she believe him? The more compelling question was why did hecare?
He unlocked the Hummer’s doors. “Let’s stow this stuff andget my dog.”
While he arranged the goodies in the cargo space, she handedhim bags. “Have you decided on a name yet?”
Hell, she already knew how stupid he was. Might as wellleave no doubt. “Yep. Ford Fido Johnson.”
Amused eyes snapped to his. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
To her credit, she didn’t laugh her ass off.
Fifteen minutes later, T.J. was driving her home, beingserenaded with alternating whines, barks, and cries as the dog paced—or triedto—back and forth on the pristine leather seats, clambering and stumbling overthe back console. T.J. darted his eyes to the rearview mirror repeatedly,catching flashes of fur and panicky cross-eyed dog face,wincing at the thought of sharp claws puncturing the perfect leather.
T.J. flinched after one particularly sharp whine. “He’s reallyvocal, isn’t he?”
Natalie looked over her shoulder and extended her hand tothe dog, who added heavy panting to his routine. “He’sjust scared. Aren’t you, buddy?” she cooed. “From what the shelter told us, hewas abused and abandoned. It’ll take time for him to fully trust you.”
Yeah, I can relate. It suddenly dawned on T.J. thatthe role he’d just signed up for was a reversal from his childhood. Theenormity hit him square in the chest. He’d just taken on the care of anotherliving thing. Jesus! Was he capable of doing better than had been done to him?
Natalie continued placating the dog. “It’ll be okay, Ford. Even though Tyler gave you a really lame name, he’lltake good care of you.” The animal let out a high-pitched moan that soundeddistinctly like a dog scoff—the equivalent of calling bullshit. Undeterred,Natalie broke into incomprehensible baby-talkbabbling.
T.J. swiped his hand through his hair. “Christ. Do I haveto talk to him like that?”
“No,” she continued in a singsong voice, “but it sootheshim.”
“That’s soothing? I thought there were two of you howlinginstead of one.” He sent her a wink before he could stop himself. She didn’tappear amused.
At a red light, he turned to look at Ford. The mutt chosethat moment to yip and cry like a coyote—no, a pack of coyotes—hunting theirnext meal. Then he yakked all over the seats. It dribbled onto the floor mat.
“Fuck me, Ford! Did you really have to do that?”
Ford followed up with stepping in the mess and spreading itall over the backseat, the floor mats, the console.
“He can’t help it,” Natalie admonished. “If you were abetter driver—”
T.J. gawked at her. “Better driver? You think hispuke pile is my fault?”
She flicked her index finger at the windshield. “Light’sgreen.” He could’ve sworn she sported a smirk. Yeah, she definitely knew what adumbass he was.
Agitation popping and fizzing in his veins, he gripped thesteering wheel and put eyes on the road.
Ford made choking noises, thenresumed the high-pitched whining until T.J. parked in front of Natalie’s house.Keeping his voice even, T.J. side-eyed her. “I should clean this up.”
A little nod. “I’ll get you somepaper towels. And a piece of advice? Don’t do aperfect job because he’s just gonna throw up again onyour way home.” She grinned at him as she opened the door.
Fan-fucking-tastic!
“Oh, and by the way, they make doggie seat belts. Maybeinvest in one?” She slid out of the seat and stood on the sidewalk.
Incredulous, he followed suit and stared at her for a beatbefore coaxing Ford out. “And you couldn’t tell me this while we were in thestore?”
“Didn’t even think about it.” She shrugged.
He wanted to be annoyed, but she looked so damn cute in hershort, poufy jacket—which unhelpfully brought to mind the red lace
