Love at First Bark Read online

  Rather than collapse on the couch upon hearing the news, Mia had needed to help Ben chase the overzealous dog through the neighborhood. After a vigorous several-minute run, the setter had been distracted by a family a few blocks away. They’d been out front in their yard setting up a lighted Christmas display of a large plastic Santa in a sled and a team of bright reindeer.

  Mia had still been in such shock after they’d caught him that Ben had guided her back to the house the same as he had the dog. She’d hardly been able to focus, especially as the adrenaline from the run wore off, but she’d put one foot in front of the other, letting the solid feel of Ben’s hand on her back guide her home.

  Seeing she was in no shape to be a thoughtful caregiver, Ben had stayed and made Ollie his favorite dinner of noodles and given him a bath while she got herself together. Hours later, as she’d curled into Ollie’s bed alongside him, Ben had stepped back into Ollie’s room, carrying a mug of steaming tea. He set the mug on the nightstand, then pressed a light kiss onto Ollie’s forehead and hers too. After he left, Mia had held Ollie and watched the steam rising from the mug in the dim light from the night-light.

  Strangely, of everything that happened that night, her memory of watching the dancing steam rise from the mug was the most clear.

  The days since had been tumbling together. All twenty-two of them. Important decisions needed to be made, but most of the time, all Mia could manage was to stick to the most basic of routines.

  More than anything, this was why she’d decided to start back at the shelter today. Life outside her grandparents’ quiet and dated bungalow had started to feel like a stream passing her by. Ollie had gone back to school last week, but Mia had hardly ventured out except to drive him there. She needed to jump back into that swiftly moving stream too. And the shelter was the safest place she could think to do it.

  As Mia headed around the firepits in the crowded shelter parking lot where s’mores were being roasted, a happy glow began to warm her from the inside, and she knew she’d made the right decision.

  Just outside the front door, Patrick, one of the shelter’s full-time staff members, and Tiny, a massive Great Dane, were stationed as greeters. Patrick, always a stickler for routine, was dressed in his usual cargo pants and a polo. Mia figured the fact that he was wearing a red one was his declaration of being festive.

  “Hey, Patrick. How’s everything going so far?”

  His uneasy smile turned into a hint of a frown. “It’s crowded inside. And full of children. Since that was the goal, it’s going well.”

  Mia laughed and sank onto her heels. She gave Tiny a thorough scratch just above the collar of his red-and-white sweater but turned her face to avoid a full-frontal lick. Despite his size, Tiny was one of the most laid-back dogs at the shelter, and he seemed to really be owning the reindeer costume he was wearing for today’s event. Tiny’s brightly colored getup included the holiday sweater, a slip-on crocheted cap with antlers, and several brass jingle bells tied to his collar. The antler cap had slipped a bit, giving him even more of a comical look.

  “That’s good. I read in this morning’s email that yesterday’s event beat goal, and I’m crossing my fingers today’s does too.” Mia had known Patrick long enough to know he was here for the animals, and not to interact with the shelter’s many supporters. Patrick would probably choose to do without the shelter’s celebrations if he could, but he understood they were an important part of its success, and he was always a great help. And while he didn’t have the best knack for conversation, he was amazing with the dogs and cats.

  As Mia headed inside, she was greeted with the sound of “A Holly Jolly Christmas” playing over a set of speakers and a front room that had been rearranged and filled with several craft tables for today’s event.

  “Hey there, lovely.” Mia glanced over to see Megan, the shelter director, headed toward her. Megan pulled her into a hug, her heavily pregnant body pressing into Mia’s stomach, reminding her how the solid-soft feel of a late-term pregnant belly was unlike anything else. “It’s really good to see you, girl,” Megan added.

  “Thanks. It’s good to be back.” As soon as she said it, Mia realized she meant it. It was good to be back. She’d only just walked in, but somehow she already felt as if she’d shed a heavy weight. “Really good, actually.”

  “Hot chocolate while you get started? I’m heading outside to work that station for a bit.”

  A second wave of relief washed over Mia as she realized she wasn’t going to be drilled with a thousand questions about her personal life. “Um, maybe later. It’s so busy. Where would you like me?”

  Megan made a “that’s easy” face. “You’ve been away three weeks. I think you’re more than overdue for some puppy time.” She craned her head across the craft tables and pointed to a spot not far from the gift shop. “How about babysitting John Ronald’s puppies so Tess can have a break? They’re up front having some playtime in the pen.”

  “Are you kidding? That’s a solid yes.” Mia gave her friend a second hug and headed through the crowded shelter toward the playpen on the far side of the room where Tess was monitoring the puppy mania from a chair inside the pen. The playpen was surrounded by a swarm of people, which wasn’t a surprise considering inside it were seven roly-poly husky-mix puppies. Just a glimpse of their stout, furry bodies tumbling over one another made Mia laugh.

  She paused at the single open gap in the circle of puppy admirers to wait for Tess to finish telling the story of the puppies’ rescue to a fresh group of visitors. John Ronald, a stray dog who’d since been adopted by Tess’s boyfriend, had been behind the abandoned puppies’ rescue. And while the little guys had had a rough start, all seven were now plump, bright-eyed, and full of energy.

  She couldn’t believe how much they’d grown since she’d last seen them. Unable to resist, Mia knelt and flattened her hand against the wire mesh of the pen. One of the largest pups in the litter dashed toward her. The furry black-and-white pup thumped the floor with its front paws, and came to an abrupt stop.

  “Hey, Mia! I didn’t know you were coming today,” Tess said as a few people left and there was a break in the questions.

  “Hey, Tess. Yeah, I know. I wasn’t sure myself, but I figured I just needed to do it.”

  “Well, I for one am glad you’re here. Are you coming to relieve me?”

  “Sure am.”

  “Cool.” Tess stood up. “Just push that panel open to get in. You enter; I’ll block. They’ve definitely figured out it’s a way out of here, and they’re craving room to run. My advice to you is to keep a chew toy in hand at all times. They’re a gnawy bunch.”

  As soon as Mia was in, Tess draped her in a warm hug while three different puppies tackled Mia’s boots. “It’s so good to see you, lady. How you holding up?”

  In Mia’s opinion, Tess’s petite frame and Italian-American looks were a perfect match for her peppy personality. “Good. Better now. I’ve missed you guys. And the place looks great. I love the tree. And those ornaments… I assume those are our current pets?”

  Near the front window, an impressive short-needled pine was adorned with animal head-shot cutouts glued to pipe-cleaner bodies. Mia thought she’d recognized several dog and cat faces as she passed by.

  “Yep. Patrick spent the last few weeks photographing every animal in the place. And you know how he is. Somehow, he found a way to get great pictures of over a hundred animals. The last couple days, the Events Committee made them into ornaments. They’re all on the tree. And every time one of our guys is adopted between now and New Year’s, their ornament will go home with them.”

  Mia clicked her tongue. “I swear, this place finds a way to outdo itself year after year.”

  “This is my first year, but with the twelve-day string of festivities that’s under way, I can’t imagine coming up with something better next year.”

 
After they’d spent another few minutes catching up, Mia played linebacker to keep the puppies at bay, and Tess stepped out. Chew toy in hand, Mia sank into the plastic chair and was soon assaulted by one of the puppies. She buried her fingers in its silky fur as the little guy gnawed her sleeve with sharp milk teeth. Each one was adorable. Mia couldn’t imagine picking a favorite. She’d heard big plans were underway for their eventual adoption and couldn’t wait for the big reveal. She also couldn’t wait to show them to Ollie when he got here. There’d be no leaving here this afternoon until they’d both had a sufficient puppy fix.

  Mia had joined the shelter’s dog-walking program when she was fifteen and pining for a dog but living in her “No pets ever” grandparents’ home. That house, the one she’d gone back to when she’d left Brad, was just a little over a mile from here.

  Growing up, Mia had dreamed of getting both a dog and a cat as soon as she had a place of her own. Then, her last year of college, she’d eloped with Brad after getting pregnant with Ollie. When Brad had turned out to be allergic to both cats and dogs, it had put a damper on those dreams.

  She’d appeased her animal love by continuing to volunteer here as she raised Ollie in a petless home. As a volunteer, she worked with both the cats and dogs, cleaning cages, brushing and playing with them, and taking the dogs for walks. After graduating with an art degree, she’d even become the shelter’s unofficial go-to artist.

  While her primary focus had been on raising Ollie rather than building a career, Mia ran an online business as a pet portrait artist. Thanks to the support and encouragement of the shelter’s now-retired founder, Wesley Hines, she’d also been encouraged to advertise her business at the shelter. Over the last few years, the shelter had even held portrait sittings on the fourth Sunday afternoon of every month, the profits of which were split between her and the shelter.

  As she babysat the puppies and answered questions, it occurred to her that even with the chaos of late, owning a dog was a real possibility for the first time in her life. Her grandparents had passed away, and Mia’s mom had given her free rein to live in the house as she pleased. In Mia’s mind, that definitely included the addition of a forever pet.

  Before she knew it, forty-five minutes had passed. Her phone buzzed from her back pocket. She pulled it out, checking to see if it was Victor or Irene who’d texted. When Brad’s parents had picked Ollie up this morning for the holiday matinee at the symphony, they’d promised to have him at the shelter by three so he could enjoy some of the festivities. As she’d guessed, the new text was from Irene. They’d just parked a few blocks away and were walking over.

  She slipped her phone back into her pocket and looked up to find Tess and Megan headed her way. “So the puppies have been out an hour and a half,” Megan said as they reached the playpen. “I can’t believe they’re still going strong, but I’m guessing they’ve about used up their adrenaline reserves. How about we take them to the back room where it’s quieter, and they can calm down? Want to help get them set up?”

  “Sure,” Mia agreed. She spent the next several minutes helping to haul the wriggly puppies to the back.

  Once they were snuggled into a fuzzy blanket in their quiet kennel, Mia excused herself to find Ollie. Since he hadn’t come in through the front door, she was betting he’d gotten sidetracked by the festivities outside.

  She headed out front to the parking lot and spotted Ollie at the s’more-making station around one of the firepits. Twenty feet away, a few talented volunteers dressed up as elves were telling holiday stories to a small crowd seated on straw bales gathered around a second firepit. Some of the attendees had brought dogs of their own.

  Victor had purchased a few s’more-fixing packets, and he and Ollie were spearing fat marshmallows with long sticks. Irene stood off to the side, looking thin and deflated, stirring up Mia’s sympathy.

  “Hey, buddy,” Mia said, running her hand through her son’s soft, thick hair as she joined them.

  Mia suspected Ollie would grow up resembling her side of the family more than Brad’s. He had his father’s hair—golden blond—rather than Mia’s thick and wavy chestnut-brown hair. But he had Mia’s blue-gray eyes and heart-shaped face. Ollie tended to be quiet and introspective like her too. His dad, on the other hand, had been neither quiet nor someone who looked within.

  Strangers had taken notice of Brad the same way people noticed a striking sunset. What Mia knew that others didn’t was that while Brad had been beautiful, it was as if he were built on a shoddy foundation. It had taken constant work—his own, and hers too—to keep that foundation intact. She’d had help along the way, mostly from Ben, and from a few of Brad’s other friends as well.

  Ollie, who’d been so intent on spearing his marshmallow that his tongue had seemed stuck to his bottom lip, gave her a giant grin after he was victorious. “Mom!” Nearly spearing Mia next, Ollie locked his arms around her waist.

  Ducking to avoid an imminent s’more-stick stabbing, Mia hugged him with one hand while securing the stick with the other. “Did you guys have a good morning?”

  Ollie rolled his eyes and let his shoulders drop dramatically. “The symphony was so boring. But we ate at the Old Spaghetti Factory.”

  Mia ignored Victor’s obvious disapproval of Ollie’s lack of excitement over the symphony. He was a seven-year-old boy and allowed to have his opinions. “Let me guess. You had spaghetti and meatballs.”

  Ollie made a show of extending his stomach as he rubbed it. “I ate my entire plate.”

  “Your entire plate? I bet that was crunchy,” Mia teased, ruffling his hair. It took him a second, but he got her joke and stamped one foot as he laughed.

  While Victor assisted Ollie with his s’more roasting, Mia did her best to make conversation with Irene. However, Irene seemed less interested than ever in making conversation with her.

  Mia wasn’t sure of the rules, but it seemed that without the divorce officially happening, Irene and Victor would forever be her mother- and father-in-law—her disapproving mother- and father-in-law, that was. Mia hadn’t been enough for their son in the eight years she’d been married to him. She had no doubt she wouldn’t be in his death either.

  But she wasn’t going to let that get to her. They’d lost their only son, and Mia was willing to give them some leeway. For now, at least.

  What really mattered was that they work together to create a new reality in which Ollie would continue to thrive. And hopefully, Mia would also get herself back in the process.

  She had a feeling one of the easiest ways to do this would be by expanding their little family of two with something four-legged that had a tail.

  Chapter 3

  The digital clock on the dashboard of Ben’s Jeep placed him a solid forty-five minutes ahead of schedule for a client meeting. This morning, he’d be presenting a series of designs to a family who was converting a hundred-year-old church into a home. He’d poured hours into the designs, manipulating ways to enable the family to modernize and add warmth while keeping the majority of the stained glass, archways, coffers, and even the belfry.

  Showing up this early at a client’s home wasn’t ideal. Ben told himself this was the reason his foot seemed instinctively to ease off the gas pedal as he neared the exit leading to the house in Webster Groves where Mia had been living since August. He’d resisted shooting off a text to check in with her before leaving this morning. Most likely, if he asked if she needed anything, she’d thank him but say no, just as she’d been doing the last few months. She wasn’t one to ask for help. Or even accept it when it was offered.

  But he remembered the way she’d leaned against him in a rare moment of surrender at Brad’s funeral. It was over before he’d been able to react or even savor the soft smell of her perfume or her toned but ample figure pressing into him. Too soon, she’d stood straight and locked her shoulders, the Atlas of her small world.

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sp; What if he just showed up? If he knocked on the door instead of texting. He’d done that dozens of times without a thought when she’d been married. Just because she was on her own now didn’t mean he wasn’t still Ollie’s godfather. And more than any time in his young life, Ollie needed him.

  She’s probably in a rush to get Ollie to school. Ben tapped his thumb in indecision on the steering wheel but took the exit anyway. Two blocks in, he passed Ollie’s favorite bakery. Seeing that the parking lot wasn’t crowded this morning, he pulled up and ran in for a couple of their favorite mini-quiches—ham and cheese for Ollie and spinach and fontina for Mia—and an assortment of scones and muffins. Mia had mentioned they froze well the last time he sent Ollie home with a bag of them after an outing with him and Taye.

  Ben pulled into an open spot in front of the home where Mia had grown up. It was a quaint brick bungalow. The dark streaks on the roof and some erosion on the chimney pots showed it was in need of some TLC. Seeing it reminded him of just one more way he’d like to help her if she’d let him. If.

  As he headed up the path, he spotted her through the bay window. She was at the counter in the kitchen, grabbing something from a cabinet. Through the darkened window, it wasn’t easy to make out much, but his insides twisted all the same. She was the only woman he’d ever met who caused his chest to tighten and his gut to burn hot at the same time.

  And that was before she answered the door in fleece pj’s that were only half successful in hiding her lack of bra, no makeup, and hair still mussed from sleep. He locked his gaze on her face to keep it from straying south.

  “Hey. Morning. I, uh… Did you call? My phone’s in the bedroom.” A blush lit her cheeks, and she clamped one arm over her chest as she pulled the door open wide.

  “Morning. I was about to, but I figured if I did, you’d shoot me down,” he said with a smile.