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I snapped another picture and lowered my phone. The smile on Callan’s face was almost overshadowed by the one on Elvis’s face. I had to swallow hard to force down the emotional lump rising in my throat.
When I dropped onto my haunches next to them, Elvis drove his snout straight under my chin and licked my jaw. I laughed, tipping my head up to keep from getting his tongue tangled in my mouth. I don’t mind a little tongue, but I’m choosy about who is slipping it to me. Elvis’s happy barking in the enclosed space was deafening.
Callan pivoted to capture Elvis between us, and rested his hands on my knees, trapping the happiest dog in the universe between us. Callan was grinning as he swooped in for a kiss. Elvis licked both our chins.
From behind the closed door to the kennel area, dogs howled and yipped, a communication of happiness that as humans we barely understood. But the joy in Elvis’s bark, and in Callan’s eyes, signaled pure delight and contentment.
“Oh! Can I take a picture of you all?” Elizabeth already had her phone aimed at us.
“Sure,” Callan said, then looked to me for approval. I guess my smile was all Elizabeth needed because she started clicking away.
Before we left, I selected a new feather ball toy for Frank. It wouldn’t do to have him smelling Elvis on me and not have a bribe available. I insisted on paying Elizabeth. “You don’t know for sure whether you’ll like what I do,” I explained.
That didn’t stop her from shoving a sparkly fish feather toy into my bag, along with the volunteer papers I’d need to complete and return.
Elizabeth fastened a leash to the Barks and Recreation collar around Elvis’s neck, then handed the brightly colored leather lead over to Callan. “Sorry it’s orange. University of Tennessee donated the leashes from their Vet school department. Vanderbilt doesn’t have an animal health program. I’d prefer a black or gold leash.” She grimaced. “He’s all yours now. No give-backs.” She winked as she stooped down and wrapped her arms around the dog in a sweet farewell gesture. She whispered something into his ear, possibly instructions to behave for his new human, and planted a kiss on the crown of his head.
When she pushed upright, she took a step back and gestured to the door. The emotional look on her face, lips curled up in a smile, but tears glittering in her eyes, was enough to make my eyes water.
“Is it this hard with each pet you adopt out, or is Elvis just special?” Callan asked.
“Elvis is special, but I get emotional every time a dog goes to a great home. We want them to go to good homes, and I have a great feeling about you two. I feel like he’s already part of your family.”
I started to shake my head; we weren’t a family, but Callan stopped me by squeezing my hand. “I think he’ll fit right in.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek.
And just the light brush of his lips on my flesh caused a sweet shiver to cascade through me. Or maybe it was the combination of his lips, and his tacit affirmation that we were a family. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this kind of comfort, longing, and attraction to a man. I’d lost that with my ex long before I’d ever found out about his cheating.
After we said goodbye to Elizabeth, Callan led me and Elvis out to his truck. Another car had just parked, and the owner climbed out and stopped dead still, staring at us.
“Ohmigod! You’re Cal Wilder. Ohmigod! My friends and I saw you in concert last year at the Grand Ole Opry. It was amazing. My friends are never going to believe this!” she gushed. She held up a phone and waved it at him. “Can I take your picture?”
A small breath huffed from between Callan’s lips, one I knew the fan couldn’t hear, but I did. I guess this was a facet of his everyday life. And how weird that would be for him.
But he smiled and nodded graciously. “Sure. Is that your dog in the back there? We just adopted Elvis here. Maybe we could get a picture of the four of us… that is, if Red here will do the honors.” He quirked one brow at me.
“Of course.” It didn’t escape me that he avoided calling me by name. I knew it had to be because he was a private person, and our relationship was new enough that he wanted me to himself.
The fan opened the back door of her car and let out a dog a little smaller than Elvis. Callan took the phone from her and handed it to me. Then he joined her by the car, the dogs pressed nose to nose, getting acquainted.
I lifted the phone to snap the picture, and realized it was locked. “Can you…” I handed it back to her.
She unlocked it and handed it back. When I looked up at them, I saw she’d turned so her chest was crushed against Callan’s bicep, and she’d rested her palm on his flat belly. He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his loose-fitting jeans and looked uncomfortable. The girl aimed a wide smile, first at Callan, and then toward me. I smacked down the oddly possessive feeling about her intimate stance next to a man I was beginning to consider my boyfriend. I hurried to snap a series of pictures.
As soon as I presented the phone back to her, Callan took a large step to the side, away from the uncomfortable adoration.
He inclined his head toward her and murmured his wish that she had a great day before he led Elvis back to my side. The hound sat obediently at my feet, as if showing the woman that I was his human, not her and her yippy little dog.
She was studying the pictures. “Thank you! I’d heard you were super nice. Glad to see you’re still okay with fans approaching you.” She cast a curious glance my direction.
“You have a nice day now,” Callan said again as he draped his arm around my shoulder and edged us closer to the truck. The locks chirped and he seized the door handle like a drowning man grasping for a life-preserver.
Sensing his desire to make a clean get away, I hopped into the passenger seat, then held out my arms to take Elvis from him.
“Sorry about that,” Callan said as he settled the dog on my lap. He laid a sweet kiss on my lips, his breath just a sigh. “I hate when that happens.”
“I suppose that comes with the territory. I mean, I’ve heard stories about groupies and rock stars. Just don’t know if I’ve ever heard one about a country music sensation getting the same kind of treatment.”
“It pains me to admit it happens all the time.” He peered into the truck at me, then kissed me again, possessively and with more passion than his previous peck. When he released my mouth, his look was direct and serious. “I hope you don’t think I’d encourage that.” He swept a hand over his bicep, where his fan had pressed her boobs against him.
