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“Nope!” I replied. “I poop-scoop daily, and even if I didn’t, the field is really big.”
“Tell her to stay vigilant!” Braden insisted in the background. “Pickles likes to lull you into a false sense of security, then BOOM! You go to pet him and get poop all over your hand.”
“Braden says—”
“I heard him,” I said with a laugh.
The two men pulled into the driveway around eight o’clock that evening. In the future, I planned to have a strict window when dogs could be dropped off or picked up, but for now I didn’t mind making an exception for my only two overnight customers. Pickles and Heidi came running over to the fence next to the driveway, barking and running back and forth excitedly for their owners.
“That’s a good sign,” I said when Christian and Braden got out of their cars. “It always makes me smile when they’rehappyto see their owners.”
“Pickles loves me, but not as much as I lovehim.” Braden leaned over the fence so the Golden Retriever could lick his face. “Yes I do. I love him more than football. Or pizza. That’s right! More than pizza!”
“She’s all soft,” Christian said while petting Heidi over the fence.
“I gave them baths today. They also got brushed every day, and had their nails trimmed. I also gave them each a rawhide chew around noon each day; I buy them in bulk, so if you ever want to pick some up, I’ll sell them. When I have the kennel storefront up, I mean.”
“It sounds like you were in good hands,” Christian told Heidi. He opened the gate. “Ready to go home?”
She barked once, then went sprinting off toward the middle of the field. Pickles and Hank took off after her.
“Andthat’sa good sign,” Braden said, nodding after the dogs. “When they don’t even want to go home, you know the kennel is a good one.”
“They can run around while we settle up. Do you take credit card?” Christian asked me.
I waved a hand. “I told you: the first boarding is free.”
Christian’s dark eyes narrowed. “I can’tnotpay you. Not after you took such good care of them.”
“Sure you can!” I replied cheerfully. “You can repay me with your continued business. And by spreading the word to anyone else you know who needs boarding services.”
“We were planning on doing that anyway,” Christian said. “Come on. Let me pay you.”
I shook my head. “Your money’s no good here this time.”
“Can we make it up to you in another way?” Braden suddenly asked. “We’ve got that thing next Saturday we could take her to.”
Christian frowned. “I didn’t think about that.”
“It’s some charity event,” Braden said, smiling at me. “They let us bring a guest. There’s lots of fancy food and drinks, and a bunch of other celebrities will be there.”
Is he asking me out?Braden’s smile was so warm and inviting. It made me feel like I was the only woman he’d ever smiled at before. Which, of course, was a ridiculous feeling since he was a rich and famous athlete who could have anyone he wanted.
“Yeah, maybe,” I said. “I’ll think about it.”
6
Beth
After Braden and Christian picked up their dogs, I was worried that business would be quiet until their next road trip. Which apparently was two weeks away, because the Colts played at home this Thursday night, and then had a bye week.
But my worries proved to be unfounded. Two other players from the Colts showed up on Monday with their dogs, asking questions and checking out my setup. Five more trickled in on Tuesday. By Wednesday, I had half a dozen customers for daytime boarding, as a means of testing how their dogs liked my place before using me for an extended trip.
Cha-ching, I thought while processing one of the reservations.
All of the Colts players were huge. There were buff running backs and enormous, round linemen. Even the kicker, who was scrawny compared to some of his teammates, towered over me. It was such a strange feeling watching ESPN highlights of their tight end in the evening, and then checking in his Labradoodle the next morning.
But as impressive as all of these athletes were, none of them caused the weightless stomach feeling like Christian and Braden.
