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Devin hummed, “I’ll be sure to do that. Back to a fun topic: what should we name this one?” He stroked the dog’s ears, and I leaned back, getting a better look at him.
He was still pretty dirty, but after a bath he’d be fine. There were no oddly shaped markings on him or any spots at all, which left no inspiration from that.
After a bit, I offered. “We could name him Cocoa.”
Devin barked a laugh. “Isn’t Cocoa usually a girl’s name?”
To be honest, I wasn’t sure. “I don’t know, but do you have any better ideas?”
He stared long and hard before nodding. “If you want to keep with the whole sugary thing, call him Fig. Like the tree.”
I raised a brow and he did it back. “Fig Newton, Beatrice.”
Oh, that made sense. “Don’t look at me like that, you jerk, you know I never really ate those.”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course not. It doesn’t have chocolate in it, so why would you?”
Affection spilled out of every syllable and I pushed against his side with a huff. “Says the man who can eat an entire batch of iced sugar cookies with no help. We all have our preferences, and I won’t be teased for mine…Not without messing with you back at least.”
He shrugged, smile still firmly in place. “Fair enough. In all seriousness though, Fig?”
I nodded, petting the newly dubbed Fig’s ears. “That’s fine, though you know we’re going to get a lot of weird looks for that, right?”
Another one-shoulder shrug. “When have we not gotten weird looks for one thing or another, Bea? It’s either your name, my choice in clothing, or any number of other things.”
I eyed his shirt dubiously at that. “Well, your shirt isn’t that bad today, it at least goes with itself. That’s better than others, and the jeans can go with anything.”
He snorted. “Thanks, Beatrice. I’m really loving the confidence you have in my fashion sense.”
I couldn’t help it. “You do remember the time you walked out the door with an ungodly orange shirt and bright green sweatpants, right?”
He flushed, “Don’t mention that, brat.”
I grinned, shaking my head. “You’re never living that down, and you know it.” Thankfully he’d gotten a lot better about color combinations since then, but sometimes he still picked some eye sores.
He grumbled but didn’t argue that, content to go back to petting our new furry friend. “Do you have a bed and food for him already?” He asked, and I shook my head.
“Not yet. I wanted to get him home and comfortable first.”
He grunted, standing up and dusting himself off. “I’ll go get that stuff then, and some dog shampoo. The poor guy looks like he needs it. Do you need help bathing him?”
I eyed Fig’s frame and the weight he carried before shaking my head. “I’ve got it, thanks. I appreciate the help. You don’t need to grab any shampoo, though. I brought home some medicated shampoo from the clinic.”
Devin gave a short nod, then walked out the door, stopping long enough to grab his keys. Once it was just Fig and I, I smiled at him.
“Well, let’s get that dirt off you, shall we? I bet you’ll feel better after a bath.”
Chapter 6
It took nearly an hour to get Fig clean, and by the end of it, I was covered in just as much water as he was. Apparently my new friend didn’t care for bath time and while he didn’t snap at me, he did his level best to get out of the tub multiple times.
Even exhausted and malnourished, he put up one heck of a fight. No wonder he’s lasted so long on the streets. He’s a fighter. My shoulders ached fiercely from the battle, and I glared at the now-sleeping dog with a huff. “You better be happy you’re cute.”
He didn’t even crack an eye open and I flopped back onto the couch bonelessly after changing clothes. Next time I’d wait until Devin was back to help with bathing him, because that was definitely a two-person job.
Just as the heaviness of sleep started creeping over me, my phone vibrated with Alice’s name. Dragging tired limbs up enough to snag the phone, I read.
William came home in a weird mood and flatly refused to tell me what happened. I know he stopped by your clinic. Is something wrong?
