Month: July 2017

**One in Vermilion is out now, and you can go here to get buy links. This week’s prompt is a continuation of Wyatt and Tru’s story. So join me and the boys as they adopt a new member of their household. Enjoy!**

Aldo was up and racing for the door a second before the sound of the RV’s engine reached my ears. I smiled and followed my poodle toward the front of the house, glad that Tru was finally home. He’d had long days all week–early training session and late grooming appointments–so we hadn’t gotten to spend as much time together as either of us was used to. I knew Aldo was missing his little buddy too. Fawkes the Corgi had wormed his way into Aldo’s heart just as surely as Tru had settled into mine.

“Wyatt!”

Tru’s slightly panicked voice jolted me out of my musings, and I didn’t even bother to grab Aldo’s leash when I wrenched open the front door. My boyfriend was hanging out the side door of the grooming RV, and Aldo raced right for him. I was right behind the dog, not even caring when a rock bit into the bottom of my bare foot.

“What’s the matter?”

Tru shook his head and disappeared into the RV. I followed up the steps. Fawkes was in his kennel, pawing at the bars, and Aldo went right over to him, pushing his nose against Fawkes’s. I had only a second to wonder why Fawkes was in the kennel, when Tru grabbed my hand and tugged me to the tub. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing as I peered down into it. It looked like a dirty mop. But then the mop shivered and huffed a breath, and I realized I was looking at a very dirty, very matted dog.

“Tru?”

“I found him.” Tru was breathing very fast, and I could see the worry in the lines around his eyes and mouth. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Tru instantly relaxed. Not completely, but some of the tension left is body.

“What happened?”

“He was just huddled under the picnic table at the dog park. I don’t know where he came from, but he’s been outside for a while. Weeks maybe. He was scared, but he let me get close enough to grab him.” Tru looked down at the dog. “He’s a mess, so I came straight home. I need help to clean him up and see if there’s anything wrong with him.”

I wasn’t surprised that my bighearted man had not only found a lost pup, but had instantly taken him in. It was exactly the kind of thing Tru would do, taking the step above. Where as other people might have ignored the dog completely, or perhaps just called animal control, my boyfriend had coaxed the dog out with the intent to provide the care the dog needed himself. It was one of the reasons I loved him.

“Tell me what you need.” I may have been a dog owner for the better part of my adult life, but Tru was a trained vet tech and all around dog whisperer. I was happy to follow his directions.

Tru worked as quickly and methodically as he could, gently cleaning the dog while I did my best to keep the little guy calm. He was shaking in our hands, but as we worked, he seemed to relax somewhat. It took more than a half an hour to get the dirty, burrs, and other detritus out of his fur.

“He’s too matted,” Tru murmured as he shut off the water. Now that the dog was clean, he was an off white grayish color. “That’s gotta hurt so badly. I’m going to have to shave him down.”

It took another hour, with Tru working slowly and carefully to cut out the mats and shave the dog. All the while, the dog didn’t make a noise, nor did he snap or try to bite. I chalked that up to Tru’s gentle hand and melodic voice. I did what I could to keep the dog calm, but Tru had a real talent.

“I think he’s part Puli. Mixed with something, or maybe multiple somethings, but look at this,” Tru muttered, holding up a scrap of fur he’d just cut. I squinted at it while still rubbing the dog between the eyes. It definitely looked like the fur had corded.

“Do you think he was someone’s pet?” I asked softly.

For a long moment, Tru didn’t answer. He’d finished clipping and shaving–the dog looked overly skinny now, and not as tall as I first thought–and he was checking the dog over. Eventually he straightened up.

“Probably. But I think they might have abandoned him.” Tru moved toward a cupboard on the other side of the RV. “There was no collar under all that fur.”

“It could have gotten caught somewhere and he could have pulled out of it.”

“Maybe,” Tru answered absently. He returned a moment later with a microchip reader and ran it over the dog’s back several times. “Nothing.”

“So, what do we do?”

“I’ll take him to see Rayna in the morning.” Tru ran his hands gently over the dog. With a sigh, the pup laid down and closed his eyes. I was sure he was exhausted. “His skin looks good. A little red in places where the mats pulled, but no lasting damage. Surprisingly, I don’t see any fleas or flea dirt. And I didn’t find any ticks. He doesn’t have mange, so that’s good. But Rayna will do the the full work up. Make sure he’s not carrying anything deadly, and give him his vaccines.”

I looked down at the dog, who was resting, and the way Tru kept running his hands over the dog’s fur.

“So,” I began, drawing the word out. “What should we name him?”

Tru’s gaze jerked to mine. “What? We can’t…Wyatt, we should….shouldn’t we…”

“Honey, I know you. I know me. If the dog doesn’t have a home already, can we really let him go?”

Tru opened his mouth, shut it again, then looked down at the dog. Shaking his head, Tru shot me a smile. “No. He needs a fighting chance after everything he’s been through. Who better to give it to him then us?”

“Nobody.”

“I love you.”

I grinned. “And I, you.” I leaned far enough to drop a kiss on his cheek, then straightened. “So. Name?”

“Chester,” Tru said decisively.

I gave Chester another pat, then stepped away to let Fawkes out of his kennel and take both him and Aldo into the house. “We’ll set Chester up in the guest room until he gets a clean bill of health.” I bent to attach Fawkes’s leash, and called Aldo to heel. “Come on, Tru. Let’s get our boys settled.”

As we all trouped into the house, I couldn’t help thinking that one more addition to our family was exactly what we needed.

**The ever delicious prompt for today: irritation. Enjoy!**

Cole took one look at his desk, dropped his bag to the floor, and cursed. Well, silently cursed, as he was in the office and the sorts of words he wanted to say would definitely get him in trouble. For the third day in a row, his pen holder was on the wrong side of his desk. The mouse pad was turned the wrong way. The phone was moved, the chair was lowered, his monitor was off center,  and his stapler and tape dispenser were set askew.

He grumbled, trying to keep it quiet. Three days these childish pranks had been been going on. Now he had to spend time–time he should be working–straightening his desk just so he could work. He knew if he made a big deal about it, then the jerk or jerks would had done this would feel as if they succeeded. Cole didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing they got to him,. But frankly, it was more than a little irritating.

Once his desk was set to rights, he logged in and began working. It was only an hour, when the columns of numbers were starting to swim before his eyes, that he realized he hadn’t gotten his usual coffee from the break room. Too distracted by finding his desk messed with, he’d forgotten to make a cup. That rankled even more. Whoever had done this was messing with his entire day now. Aggravated, he grabbed his favorite mug and went to get his much needed caffeine.

“You okay?”

Cole jerked his head around to see Mason loitering by the coffee pot. Cole tried not to scowl. Mason always seemed to be well put together. More than that, he had a relaxed and jovial attitude that Cole found irksome. Everyone in the office adored Mason. Cole couldn’t say that he disliked the man, but he didn’t find him as charming as everyone else seemed to.

“Yes. I’m fine,” Cole snapped.

“You sure?” Mason gave a slow blink, and then a small smile. “You seem kind of…irritated.”

“I’m sure.” Cole would not admit that he was beyond irritated. Instead, he poured himself a mug of coffee and all but stomped from the break room.

With sufficient caffeine flowing in his system, Cole was able to focus. Before too long, he was so absorbed in his work he’d all but forgotten about his the state of his desk when he’d arrived. At twelve-thirty precisely, he clocked out for lunch and headed down to the cafeteria to eat his turkey sandwich on whole wheat. Then he headed back upstairs.

To find a purplish colored smoothie sitting on his desk, conscientiously placed on a napkin so the condensation from the plastic glass didn’t mar his desk top. Cole glanced around, but no one was paying him any attention. he sat at his desk, and noticed the note propped up against the side of his cup.

It’s blueberry-strawberry-banana. Supposed to be good for energy. 

I’m sorry.

Odd, but Cole took a cautious sip anyway. It was delicious. And Cole had to admit, a few hours later, he didn’t hit the late afternoon slump he usually did.

Six o’clock rolled around faster than normal. Cole was surprised when he heard his coworkers calling out their goodbyes. He started shutting down his computer and packing up, already dreading what state his desk would be in when he arrived in the morning. Perhaps he should put everything away in the drawers and lock them?

“I’m sorry I messed with your stuff.”

Cole spun around to see Mason standing in his cubicle entrance, a look of sincere remorse on his pretty face. Cole shook his head, then narrowed his eyes.

“You did it?”

Mason nodded and dropped his gaze. He took a deep breath and looked back up. “I was trying to get your attention.”

“That seems…rather childish, yes?” The words were out of Cole’s mouth and he racked his brain for a way to diminish the accusation, but Mason was already nodding.

“Yes. Definitely. But every time I try to talk to you, you blow me off. I was getting desperate.” Mason offered him a hint of a grin. “I’m sorry though. I didn’t think about how it would piss you off. That really wasn’t nice of me.”

“No,” Cole agreed. He sighed, and shouldered his bag. “But if you wanted my attention, you could have just said ‘Hey, Cole, want to meet me for a drink sometime?’ That would have worked rather well.”

Mason bit his lip, and his smile grew. He pushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes. “Hey, Cole. Want to meet me for a drink sometime?”

Cole had always found Mason attractive, but Cole never thought Mason would be interested in a somewhat staid introvert like himself. Clearly, he’d been wrong. And what was the harm in a drink? If it didn’t work out, they could part ways.

“Does Friday work for you?”

Mason’s wide grin was all the answer Cole needed.

**Today’s prompt: pulled over for speeding by a cop who was once his boyfriend, but cheated on him ten years before. Enjoy!**

I saw the flashing lights in my rear view mirror, so I immediately slowed down and pulled to the side so the cop car could zoom by me in pursuit of whoever they were after. I was so focused on that, it took me a moment to realize the car was not passing me by, but instead, pulling in behind me. The lights still going, the officer in his dark blue uniform pushed open his door and stepped out.

Fuck.

I put down the window, and then sat stock still, both hands on the steering wheel, gaze fixed straight ahead. When the cop came close, he bent down to peer inside my car, and didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“License and registration.”

I took a deep breath, then slowly lifted my hands off the wheel. “I’m going to reach into the glove box for the registration, then into my back pocket for my license.”

“It seems I taught you well.”

My gaze snapped to the officer, whose eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. There was something in his voice, the way he held himself, that gave me pause. I studied what I could see of his face, then moved my attention to his chest. The name tag said it all. Reyes.

“Angel.” I said, my voice cold. I knew he couldn’t mistake the tone, and the tiny jolt that went through his body let me know he had heard it. And that he knew exactly why I’d used it.

“License and registration, please, Cooper.”

I did as he asked, purposefully keeping my gaze averted. Officer Reyes took them and sauntered back to his car. I watched his ass in my side mirror. It was still the most perfect ass I’d ever seen. Even if I hadn’t laid eyes, or hands, on it in ten years. But back then, I hadn’t been the only one touching him, which is why I’d walked away without a backward glance. If he’d been honest about the others, that would have been one thing. But he’d told me he was all for monogamy, that he wanted that with me, and then screwed around on the side.

The ass.

I was still stewing, all that hurt and anger from so long ago making a resurgence even though I’d been sure I put it behind me, when he handed back my license, registration, and a ticket.

“Really?” I squinted at him.

He shrugged one shoulder. “You were going fifty in a thirty, Cooper. I can’t just let that go.”

“Fine.” I tucked the registration back into the glove box, and tossed the ticket and license with my wallet on the passenger seat. “Am I free to go, officer?”

Angel opened his mouth, shut it, shook his head, and then nodded. “Yeah. Be careful.”

“Absolutely, sir.”

I pulled away and made sure I drove exactly the speed limit all the way home.

****

I called my brother about the ticket, because he was a lawyer and I wanted him to handle it. Or, at least get it reduced. I was pretty sure twenty miles over the speed limit would carry a hefty fine. After that was done, I settled in front of the couch with a local micro brew, and flicked on the TV.

The knock on the door was unexpected, and I took my beer with me to answer it. Maybe it was girl scouts. Was it cookie season? I pulled open the door with a smile on my face. Which promptly fell off when I saw who was standing there.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed at Angel.

He’d grown up, that was for sure. Ten years ago, he’d been twenty-two to my twenty-four, fresh out of the academy, and arrogant as hell. I’d adored him. Until I found out about the cheating, that was. But in the intervening years he  packed on more than twenty pounds of muscle, I could swear he was at least two inches taller,  and filled out. His face was older too, with tiny creases around his mouth and eyes, but in the good way. The way that made him look distinguished and worldly. He looked amazing, actually. But I would not dwell on that.

“I got your address from your license.” His grin was unapologetic.

“Isn’t that illegal? I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.” I squinted at him. “Lachlan is a lawyer now. I can call him with a push of a button.”

Angel’s smile didn’t falter. “I just need a minute of your time.”

I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorjamb. No way I was letting him into my house. He stared me down, or tried to, but when I wouldn’t budge, he sighed.

“I was a stupid, arrogant fool. Back then. I want to apologize for the way I treated you. For the the things I did and the way I lied.” His smile turned rueful. “You leaving, disappearing, was a wake up call for me. It took me a little while, but I’m not the asshole I was back then. At least not about relationships. So I wanted to apologize. And say thank you.”

The sincerity poured off him in waves, and it was clear to see he meant it. Whether he’d actually changed or not, I couldn’t say. But it was big of him to apologize, and that was something the Angel of ten years ago never would have done. He was making the gesture, and the least I could do was accept the overture for what it was.

I held up the bottle in my hand. “Want to come in for a beer?”

He went still, and his smile slipped a tiny fraction. I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been staring so intently.

“Won’t your boyfriend…or partner or husband…mind?”

I sighed and turned, leaving the door open. “I don’t have one of those.”

I heard the door shut behind me, then Angel’s footsteps as he followed me into the kitchen.

“Excellent,” he murmured.

I handed him a beer, then gestured to the couch. “Just sit. Drink your beer. Tell me what’s been going on with you.”

His grin was radiant. “I’d be happy to.”