Page 9 of Carver’s Craving

With that little bombshell, he headed toward the kitchen.

Poppin and I continued to stare.

This time, I cocked my head. What have I gotten myself into?

I just didn’t know.

Chapter Three

Carver

Whether Styx was going to help me put away the groceries remained an open question as he and Poppin continued their stare-off.

Walter sat with his head propped against the arm of the sofa—amusedly watching the guest and Poppin. He was much chiller than his sister, so his reaction didn’t surprise me. His gentler nature had made him a favorite at the shelter with the workers. The mobility issues plaguing him, though, had made it difficult for the staff to find a home for him. Then Dr. Zephyra had diagnosed a heart murmur. Another strike against him.

Poppin had low thyroid hormone and serious skin issues that required constant maintenance and many, many, many visits to the vet. She loved her vet, though, so that helped a lot. My girl had been the longest resident at the shelter when I snagged her. Both my dogs had been hard to place…until I came along. I was just grateful they’d been available to be rescued at the same time. I might not go into town often, but I didn’t like leaving them alone when I did. If I only had one dog, I suspected that guilt would be tenfold.

I continued to put the groceries away—all the while watching Styx from the corner of my eye. Eventually, he inched toward Walter. When he held his hand before the pooch, my boy sniffed. And then licked. Generously.

Styx giggled.

Poppin eyed the scene.

I’d found she didn’t like missing out and, as if on cue, she moved toward Styx. He crouched and held out his hand. She sniffed. Delicately. Then she licked him as well.

He grinned. “They’re so awesome. Walter’s the senior dog, right?”

“Yeah.” I put the tomatoes in the fridge. Then decided to leave one on the counter. “Tomato, cheese, and ham sandwiches?” I tried to remember what Styx’s favorite foods were. Pizza and beer were the only two things that came to mind—and I didn’t have either.

“Sounds perfect.” He scratched Poppin’s ear. “What’s her story?”

“She has a thyroid condition that requires twice-daily medication, and sadly, a skin problem that requires two other medications and monitoring. Walter’s on a supplement as well, for his mobility and joint issues.” I swallowed. “I knew when I rescued him that he had fewer days ahead of him than behind. I just couldn’t bear to know he was in the shelter. Same with Poppin. She was their longest resident when I brought her home.”

“They get along?”

I nodded as I sorted the cheese, bread, and ham. “Yeah. Finnegan, one of the shelter volunteers, socialized them together. He didn’t think the shelter would find someone to take them together—” I swallowed. “Mayo or mustard?”

“Both, thanks.” Amusement laced his tone. “Yet you came along and rescued them both.”

“Yeah.” I washed the tomato. “Walter is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. His owner died and her family couldn’t take care of him. I know the shelter was considering all the options for him when I came along.”

“Do I want to know?” His voice hitched.

“They’re a no-kill shelter. Still, senior dogs with health issues are hard to place.” I pointed my knife toward Poppin. “She’s a rat terrier mix something. The cost of the skin allergy treatment’s pretty high, so that kept some people from bringing her home when they might’ve otherwise.”

“You’re a good man.”

My gaze shot to Styx’s. “Please don’t say that.”

“But—”

“I could use some help. I’d offer lettuce, but I don’t eat that shit.” I pivoted to the kitchen because I didn’t want to deal with this. I’d rudely cut him off but wasn’t going to apologize.

After a moment, he chuckled. “Not my favorite either—it’s mostly water. If I’m going to eat healthy, then I want something with substance. Like a tomato. You want me to chop it?” He gave each dog a final pet and then headed toward me. “I need to wash my hands. Actually, I need to piss as well.”

“TMI.” I rolled my eyes. Then gestured toward the hallway. “Spare bedroom, bathroom left, primary bedroom right. You can drop your bag in the spare. If you run cold, you might want to turn up the heat before bedtime. I don’t heat it if I’m alone.”

“And you’re always alone?”