Here Comes Santa Paws (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

5. Roman

Chapter 5

Roman

I inhaled the crisp scent of impending snow as I exited my back door to move my trash can to the street for tomorrow’s pickup. The forecast didn’t call for much, but the drop in temperature was noticeable through my jacket.

Once I’d dragged the trash to the curb, I turned to walk back and groaned. Of course I’d run into Elias two days in a row. Usually I managed weeks between seeing him since I had the privilege of garage parking. It was a great barrier against pointless small talk with annoyingly charming and attractive neighbors.

Elias glanced over and pulled a smile from his seemingly endless supply but said nothing. He returned his attention to the cargo area of his compact SUV. “Come on, Carol. You can’t stay out here all night. I’ve got your favorite treats inside.”

I vaguely made out a large dark lump. Was he seriously adopting another dog?

“I’m going to lift you, okay? Don’t bite me. I know you probably won’t, but I don’t want you to start a biting thing. The goal is to make you more adoptable, not less.”

I started toward my place but paused when Elias grunted and stopped trying to move her. He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. After a moment, he rolled his shoulders and tried again. The dog had to be at least sixty pounds, which probably felt much heavier if she wasn’t interested in moving. He tried tugging on a leash, but that didn’t budge her either. Elias tugged again, then slipped and fell on his ass.

“You’re killing me, Carol. It’s cold, it’s wet, and I didn’t sleep last night. I just want to get you in a safe space before I bring someone in to repair the shelter.”

Repair the shelter? What happened?

Nope. Not my problem or business. I didn’t need to get involved. As soon as I started caring, it only made things messy when I moved. I’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

My feet didn’t get that memo because they carried me to him. “Need help?” I’d asked it with the same lack of enthusiasm as “yes, I want anchovies on my pizza.”

He scrambled to his feet and wiped his butt, drawing my attention to it.

“I don’t suppose you missed that.” He jerked his thumb toward the ground.

“Saw it all.”

He groaned and tilted his face toward the sky. “This day keeps getting better.” Then his face snapped toward me. “Wait. Did you offer to help? Really?”

“It’s either that or listen to you try to reason with the thing outside my window all night.”

Elias lit up like I’d just offered to decorate my half of the duplex. I ignored the swirling in my gut. Earnest guys like him were trouble because they expected others to be as thoughtful as they were.

“Did you say her name is Carol? Who names a dog Carol?”

“Like Christmas Carol. Get it? Most of the animals have festive names at the shelter.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course they did.

He leaned in conspiratorially. “And you’ve gotta admit, human names for animals are hilarious. Imagine yelling, ‘Carol, quit shitting in Esther’s rose bushes!’”

“Maybe Esther deserves it.” I wanted to snatch the words back because he looked at me, delighted, like I’d just tap-danced naked.

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t met an Esther who wasn’t trouble.”

My lips twitched with an almost-smile, but I caught it in time. Time to get this over with so I could continue my evening. “I’ll grab her if you get the door.”

Elias’s attention landed on my arms. I flexed reflexively, which was fucking ridiculous on so many levels. Not least of which was the fact I had on a goddamn coat.

“Thanks!”

Carol’s attention snapped to me when I neared her. She reminded me of that sweet dog next door when we lived in a great town in Oregon. Roxy, that was her name. Sweetest dog I’d ever met.

Damn, I hadn’t thought of Dahlia Springs in forever, but it was like my brain had opened Pandora’s Box, and memories flooded to the forefront of my mind. Not only of Roxy, but of my friends and the forest we explored after school every day and the cul-de-sac we rode our bikes in.

An image of my ten-year-old best friend, Warren, flashed in my head. He was eager, adventurous, and never met an animal he didn’t want to adopt. Elias had probably been the same at that age.

Of all the places we temporarily lived in when I was young, Dahlia Springs stuck out the most in my memory. We’d lived there longer than anywhere else, and I thought maybe we’d stay there for good. I’d wanted nothing more than to live there forever and keep playing with Roxy and Warren, but Dad had gotten a new job, and we’d moved away right before Christmas. That was the year I’d painfully learned the lesson that it was easier to move if I wasn’t leaving anyone important to me behind.

Carol had a similar mix of black, white, and rust coloring to Roxy. When we made eye contact, her tongue fell from her mouth, almost like a smile. Roxy used to do that from the other side of the fence. My heart twinged.

“Carol, let’s go.” I wasn’t sure why I’d made the command, but she obediently hopped down and sat at my feet.

Elias gaped at me. Carol eagerly watched me like she was waiting for more directions.

“What?” I felt self-conscious with his eyes on me.

“She’s never responded like that to anyone.”

I shrugged because I had no clue what to tell him. I’d never had a pet and had no fucking clue what to do with animals.

Elias clipped a leash on her collar. “She’s been through a lot. She was brought into the shelter after Halloween, and we’ve had to keep her isolated since she’s so stressed.”

“And you’re bringing her into a home with all your other animals? Won’t that stress her out more? Your dogs aren’t exactly quiet.” I pointedly glanced at his place, where his dogs’ muffled barks were clear as day.

Elias’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms, and fuck me, it was cute.

“I don’t have a choice. We had a massive water leak at the shelter last night, and I’m scrambling to find another place for many of our animals. She needs special care, and I don’t want to pawn her off on someone who won’t give it to her. We’re working on fostering out a lot of the animals, but I wanted to get Carol out as soon as I could for her well-being. At least in my place, she can have a private room instead of being crated in the shelter’s break room.”

Carol tried licking my hand, but I dodged her slimy tongue.

It took me a long moment to figure out what to say. Half my brain was addled by this new side of Elias. He’d always seemed confident, but his commanding tone surprised me. I had to respect how much he cared about the animals. There might be more to my neighbor than a frustratingly perky attitude, loud dogs, and a nice ass.

“Sorry about your shelter.”

Elias’s expression cleared in an instant. “Thanks. Any chance you know a contractor?”

I shook my head.

“Too bad. Anyway, thanks for your help.” He turned his attention to the dog. “You deserve a treat. Let’s go.”

After one more glance at Carol, who craned her head to watch me leave, I walked to my place, ignoring her woeful whine. I also ignored the pang it triggered in my heart.

ELIAS

I’d worked up a sweat getting Carol into the house. As my dogs danced around her, Carol growled like she did with other dogs at the shelter. I’d debated hiding my pets while bringing her in, but I figured she should have a chance to meet the creatures she’d hear and smell in the house. Krampus had watched long enough to make sure Carol wasn’t a threat, then resumed guarding the street.

I crouched to Tinsel’s and Nutcracker’s level. “I need you two to chill, okay? Carol is going to be a guest in our home for a little while.”

My dogs completely ignored me as they tried to get Carol to play. She wasn’t having any of it. The low growl rumbling from her large body didn’t faze my lovebugs. Like me, they were determined to befriend everyone.

“Dogs! To the bedroom!” I used my most forceful voice. Thankfully, they listened.

With a tight grip on her lead, I took Carol through the kitchen to grab the treat container, then hurried to the spare bedroom. Once inside, I closed the door behind us to give her a break. Before heading to Gramps’s, Nancy had swung by to drop off some supplies in the spare room. Bless her. She’d set up food, water, and a large bed.

“Welcome to your accommodations, Carol. I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep you in here for your peace, but I promise I’ll make it cushy. I’ll open the curtains so you can watch the birds.”

Carol moved as far away from me as she could and tried to squeeze between a bookshelf and a set of plastic drawers. I pulled a treat from the tin and tossed it to her. After eyeing me warily, she stretched enough to gobble it up. I threw her another.

Snuffling sounds from under the door made me smile. My crew just wanted to make a friend, but they needed to understand that not everyone felt the same. Sometimes, it took patience and gentle persistence to earn friendship.

Or sometimes, you had to leave people the hell alone like I’d tried to do with Roman. From the day I’d offered to help him carry in his moving boxes, he’d made it clear that he didn’t care to be buddy-buddy with his neighbor. I’d tried to respect that and admire his assets from a distance, but tonight, he’d offered to help me of his own volition. He might as well have draped his letterman jacket over my shoulders for the big Homecoming game, given the fizzy sensation coursing under my skin.

I reached my fingers under the door and touched wet noses and warm doggy tongues, so I shoved a few treats their way to buy Carol and me a few minutes.

Carol needed to stay with someone she actually responded well to. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting that Carol hadn’t connected with me, but her comfort mattered far more than my pride.

I perked up as an idea formed. It wasn’t my best one, but I’d throw myself at Roman’s feet if it meant it would help Carol.

“I’m going to leave you in here to relax, sweetheart. Ignore the barking elves on the other side of the door. They mean well, but this is your space. I won’t let them in.”

I made sure none of them would sneak past me as I exited the room. If my plan failed, I’d need to set up a system of locking my dogs in my room when I let Carol out, but I had a good feeling about it.

I marched confidently next door.

When I knocked, I could’ve sworn I heard a muffled curse. The door swung open moments later to reveal a frowning Roman. No one made cranky look as sexy as he did. He’d ditched the scrubs I usually saw him in and now had on a white T-shirt fitting snugly around his biceps and gray joggers that might as well have had a marquis around his package with how hard it was to keep my attention from darting there.

A delicious, savory aroma wafted toward me. Meatloaf, maybe? I peeked around him into the living room I’d never seen. It was larger than mine, with a long, open-floor plan leading into the kitchen. He’d decorated it with warm neutrals and blues. Much more calming than the bachelor chic I would’ve pegged him for.

“Can I come in? I want to ask you something. Smells good in here.”

Roman seemed startled by my presence, but stepped back slightly, so I took that as an invitation to enter.

I took in a modern leather couch with a well-worn seat on one side and tasteful wood furniture. The clean and minimally decorated space had a masculine feel. Framed photos behind the couch snagged my attention. They were stunning landscapes—dense and foggy forest, waves crashing over a rocky beach, and the sun shining on a river coursing through a valley.

“Wow. These are incredible. Who’s the photographer?” I hoped they had an online gallery. I might order myself a Christmas gift.

Roman started to cross his arms, froze, and then dropped them awkwardly at his sides. “Me.”

My head swiveled toward him. “You?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I didn’t know you were a photographer.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

But I wanted to. “I know you take amazing pictures and are a grumpy dog whisperer.” Seeing him show kindness to Carol didn’t help my silly crush. Neither did watching him climb a tree to retrieve an older neighbor’s scared cat during a rainstorm last spring. Who needed Mr. Darcy in a wet shirt when there was Roman Schaffer in wet scrubs to admire? Creepily from the other side of my living room window, of course.

There was clearly more to Roman than he wanted me to see.

His frown deepened, which had no business being so attractive. I wanted to run my finger down his forehead to smooth the crease.

“Are you saying I’m a grumpy dog whisperer or the dog whisperer to grumpy dogs?”

“Yes.” I bit my lips to try and stop the smile threatening to grow at his exasperation.

Roman sighed. “What do you want?”

“I’m having an issue with Carol.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I can’t help but notice you don’t have any dogs. At least I’ve never seen or heard any.”

“Not all dogs bark incessantly.”

His deadpan delivery delighted me.

“So you don’t have any?”

“No.”

I could’ve sworn pain briefly darkened his features.

“Carol really needs to be in a calm home for a little while. She responded so well to you, and since I live next door, I could?—”

“No.” The word was sharp and harsh.

“You’re not going to let me finish my pitch?” I executed my pleading, puppy-dog eyes, which had often helped me get my way over the years.

Roman shifted uncomfortably and huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I understand you’re in a pinch, but I’m not the right person.”

I caught the flicker. The one I’d seen countless times on people who came into the shelter to volunteer, claiming they weren’t right for pet parenting. The ones who really wanted the companionship of a pet but were nervous to commit. More often than not, those who worried they wouldn’t be good cared enough to make sure they were great. The ones who never worried about their fitness as pet parents often returned animals because they’d underestimated the investment.

Despite seeing that familiar spark in Roman, I wouldn’t twist his arm. No animal deserved to be forced into a home. But I would try to address Roman’s concerns—even if he didn’t realize he had them. Roman might not be ready for a pet now, but I knew in my gut he would be at some point. He might get there if he fostered Carol and proved to himself he could be happy with a furry roomie.

“No problem. I totally understand. If you ever change your mind, we have a great fostering program. It’s a solid way to get used to having a pet to make sure it’s a good fit for your life. Have a good night.”

He blinked in surprise. I flashed a winning smile as I passed him and skedaddled back to my place before I further damaged our nonexistent relationship.