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“Loki’s an asshole,” the man said in a deep voice that reminded me of a rock slide. “He’ll warm up to you. Maybe.”
I stood and got a good look at the owner of the dogs. He stood tall and rugged, his chiseled facial features partly obscured by a short, well-maintained beard that was the color of charcoal. I saw with surprise that he had a black eye, but he seemed to wear it like a badge of honor, and it added a touch of grit to his already mysterious demeanor. He leaned forward and gripped the top of the fence with strong, weathered hands, causing the bulging muscles in his arms to tighten in a way that made my ovaries twitch.
I was suddenly vividly aware that I was a woman who was alone here, on a piece of property that was so large that the neighbors were nearly a mile away. If I screamed at the top of my lungs, theymighthear me. Or they might not.
I’m not afraid of him, I told myself.I’m just intimidated. Which is dumb, because he brought his four dogs. Someone who is dangerous wouldn’t do that. Would they?
“You Lizzy?” he asked in that rumbling voice.
“I’m Beth, the owner,” I replied with a smile. “How can I help you?”
“Need boarding,” he said bluntly. “I booked online. Logan Landry.”
“Oh, right! I saw that reservation this morning. It’s for seven days, is that correct?”
His gaze was intense. “Right.”
“Okay! Let’s get them into the field to make sure they get along with all the other dogs.” I opened the outer gate that led into a smaller pen adjacent to the main field. “Who’s who?”
Logan started pointing. “Odin. Heimdall. Freya. And…”
“And the asshole is Loki,” I finished.
Logan’s lip twitched like he wanted to smile, but managed to stop himself. “Loki. Get on with it.”
The little Chihuahua mix trotted through the gate. The other dogs I was boarding noticed the commotion and came running over, greeting the new dogs just as I opened the inner gate.
“Be nice,” Logan growled. “No cunty behavior, Loki.”
Despite the brusque way he addressed them, I could tell Logan had a lot of love for his dogs. A flicker of concern crossed his dark eyes as he watched them interact with the other animals. Only when it was clear that they all got along did he visibly relax his grip on the fence.
“I like how you named them all after Norse gods.” I nodded toward Logan’s face. “How’d you get the black eye?”
He turned to look at me, then said, “Workplace disagreement.”
I laughed. “What kind of workplace allows employees to get into fist fights? Unless you play…” I trailed off.That’show I knew him. He looked different without a helmet on, but I definitely remember the beard and intense look in his eyes.
“You’re the hockey player!”
Logan grunted in what sounded like agreement.
“I was at the game on Sunday,” I explained. “I saw you get into a fight. I guess that’s how you got the mark, huh?”
While staring intently at his dogs playing in the field, he answered, “Guess so.”
“I’ve got to say, it’s refreshing seeing your dogs,” I said.
He frowned at me. “Why?”
“A lot of my clients—most of them, actually—are professional athletes, and they always seem to have purebred dogs. It’s nice to see some mutts, too.”
He grunted again. “Got a soft spot for strays. Loki! Cut that shit out.”
The Chihuahua mix was about to mount a Dachshund, but immediately stopped and laid down when he heard his owner’s voice.
“Little asshole,” Logan chuckled. “Do I need to sign anything?”
“You already filled out all their intake forms, but I need you to sign a few documents. The office is this way.”
