AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jackson drops his head back and lets out a howling laugh. I could cry. Getting a laugh like that from him feels like a gold medal at the Olympics.
“You are…”
His words trail off as he closes his eyes. Mandy sings about wanting to be with someone, even for a night, and invisible ants crawl between the hairs on my forearm.
I’m what….?
I would be lying if I hadn’t thought about kissing this frustrating man’s lips, see if his sourpuss attitude would melt. On the other hand, I should stop romanticizing horrible men and see them for who they are, not for their potential. Jackson is mean, grumpy, and has a chip on his shoulder against the whole world.
But I can’t stop getting into a car with him.
“Do you rescue dogs often?”
Him asking questions is giving me hope that he doesn’t hate me. I nod. “I volunteered for a rescue in Sacramento. They mostly fostered and re-homed senior dogs. Once in a while, we would save at-risk dogs. When I came to Goldheart, I found Working Buddies and immediately volunteered. Ramon’s aunt runs it.” I choke back tears. No matter how many times I talk about rescues, it breaks my heart every time.
Jackson’s brows crinkle more. “Why do people give up senior dogs?”
“I want to believe people have good reasons, but honestly, some people are assholes,” I say. Jackson flinches at my cursing. Good to keep him on his toes. “They give them up for a bunch of reasons. They get a new puppy; they don’t want to see the dog deteriorate and die. When I finally buy a house, I want some land so I can have as many senior dogs as possible. Big, small, I don’t care. A dog should have a real home at the end of their lives.”
I take a sharp inhale through my nose to keep the tears away.
“This means a lot to you.”
I nod. “It will break my heart every day, but I have to do it. For Rory.”
My shoulders hunch at my vulnerability, and I want to fold into myself.
“Who is Rory?”
“Rory was the best dog who ever lived,” I say. “He was my soul dog. I hope every dog I save gets to the rainbow bridge and can give him an update. Tell him I’m doing okay. Rory would want to know I’m doing okay.”
Jackson nods, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he looks out the window.
I didn’t cry mentioning Rory. I’m proud of myself.
I look at the piece of paper and pull over to the shoulder in front of a small home with gray shingles, nestled in an alcove, surrounded by tall trees.
“Do you have a picture? Of Rory?”
“Sure.” I open my phone and scroll a little, finding the last photo I have of us. Rory is gray in the muzzle, but his mouth is open and the tongue dangles. I always thought he was smiling when he did that. Jackson takes the phone from my hand, and our thumbs brush. I swallow.
Jackson holds it close. “You look happy.”
I nod, taking my phone back. “That dog made my whole world. We were together for three years, and it wasn’t long enough.”
“What happened?”
“Cancer. Two months ago. I loved him so much, I felt like my body would split open when he died.”
Jackson’s throat moves, a vein popping on the side. Moisture collects at his hairline.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says. “I’m sorry. About your dog.”
“I think I’m ready for some snuggles, aren’t you?”
“Us?” he croaks. Breath catches in my throat.
