AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Summer,” he growls, and I feel him growing hard at my touch.
“What?” I ask sweetly, pulling back to peer at him with an innocent expression.
“As much as I’d love to bend you over the bed right now, that’ll have to wait. I called ahead, and they’re letting us in a half hour before it opens.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, probably in vain since I’m sure I have horrible bedhead, plants a kiss on my nose, and then sets me down. “So go get dressed, pretty girl. We’ve got a dog to adopt.”
Giddy anticipation races through me, and I’m finally fully awake. With a bounce in my step, I practically skip toward the closet, noticing that nobody is in the nest anymore. They must all have gotten up to start their days and let me sleep a little longer. While I’m rifling through my shirts, having already decided on a pair of black straight-legged jeans, Hudson joins me.
Standing in the closet doorway, hands holding on to the top of the door frame so his shirt rides up enough to see his happy trail and the little “v” in his hips I love so much, he smirks. “No black.”
Huh?
It takes a second for my brain to catch up. Right. Dog hair. Well, that’ll take some getting used to. I swap the black jeans for blue ones and grab a maroon T-shirt.
“We’ll need to stop and grab a few lint rollers then,” I gripe, not willing to drop black from my wardrobe altogether.
He chuckles but agrees and wraps his arm around my shoulders, leading me out to the garage.
* * *
The animal shelter we pull into looks like a normal house: brick, white wraparound porch, and trees artfully placed on either side for shade. The only thing that sets it apart from a regular house is the huge fenced-in yard in the back and the large dog kennels lined up one after the other on the side of the house.
Chicago Humane Societyis displayed on a large wooden sign in the front yard. My door opens, startling me, and Hudson is there, extending his hand to help me out of his truck. I must have been too lost in my thoughts looking at this place to realize he’d gotten out.
“Ready?” he asks me, tilting his head.
I nod back, a huge smile on my face. “Ready.”
A bell chimes as we walk through the unlocked door. A lady with short gray hair pops out from what looks like an office behind the counter and greets us. “You must be the Whitlock’s.”
My heart leaps at her words but then starts beating faster than a damn racehorse at Hudson's confident, proud reply. “That’s us.” The hand resting on my hip gives a small squeeze.
We haven’t talked about me taking their last name. It’s not exactly common in packs since bond marks are more permanent. Names only get changed with marriage, and it’s most common among beta pairings since they can’t give bond marks. Packs do still have marriages within them, though it's not the norm. More personal preference than anything. But I have to admit I like the sound of it.
Summer Whitlock.
Rolls right off the tongue.
“If you’ll just sign this waiver, you can follow me.” We both sign, not even reading it. I’m sure it’s the regular liability stuff. But even if a dog did bite us in here, I’m confident neither of us would kick up a fuss or sue the shelter.
We follow her into the back, through a heavy-looking door she unlocks with her key and then re-engages the lock once we join her. “Each of the kennels has a placard with their information. If the card has a green sticker, you can stick your hand through to pet them. The orange stickers are at your own risk; they’re mostly gentle but a little temperamental. The red stickers we do not suggest touching without a handler present. These are the aggressive ones. Most are slated for euthanasia. These dogs have to go to homes without children or other pets and are most commonly adopted by professional trainers.” At the word euthanasia, my heart squeezes painfully in my chest. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be in the back if you have any questions or want one of the kennels opened.” She points to a small desk tucked into the corner. It’s clearly used just for sitting and waiting since there is barely anything on it. A few papers and a pencil.
We nod at her and start looking.
The first kennel has a placard that says the dog’s name is Luka, and he’s eleven months old. His coat is brown with a white belly, and he looks like a pit bull mixed with something else I can’t quite place.
My name is Luka, and I’m looking for a happy forever home. My favorite things are getting belly rubs and doing zoomies during playtime. I love treats, so feel free to feed me.
He’s got a green sticker and is right up at the fence, tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in a happy smile. It’s absolutely adorable, but I don’t have the insane urge to bundle him up and take him home with me. Still, I reach through the fence and give him some scratches behind his ear. Hudson steps away for a second, coming back with a handful of small treats. We each give Luka one and then move down the line.
The fence of the next kennel rattles through the room as an all-black dog jumps up at our approach. He’s just as friendly as Luka was, and he’s got a green sticker, too, so I stick my hand through and give him just as much love.
My name is Bubba, and I’m two years old and love kids. My first family passed away, so I was sent to the shelter, but I’m ready to give my love to another family in need. I love long walks and playing with all the other pups. Please, please give me all the treats.
“That’s so sad,” I whisper. Hudson murmurs his agreement and gives Bubba an extra treat. We continue down the line one after the other. Giving pets and love to all the ones with green stickers and tossing the treats in without petting them for the orange and red stickered ones. They stay in the back of their kennels anyway, clearly either afraid, overstimulated from people always trying to touch them, or really uninterested and aggressive.
We’ve almost seen and played with three-quarters of the dogs, and I’m starting to get disheartened. None of them are jumping out at me or calling to me in a way I always imagined.
I frown at the next kennel. There is an absolutely gorgeous black and brown shepherd in the back of the cage. Unlike the others, this dog is chained to the back, muzzled, and it’s got a red sticker, as well as a date scrawled on the placard. It’s this coming Wednesday.
