Page 11 of Doggy Style

Wow. I’m surprised at how open he is with his answer. I wonder how he met Kira. She had already been a reality star on the rise before she leaked their sex tape. But I don’t want to get to know him better, not really. I just want to give him the dog and move on with my life. And I still plan to work on a more permanent foster for Gidget. I don’t want to be tied to Preston or have to depend on him. Being in his presence rattles me.

He walks up to a brand-new, shiny black Ford truck and opens the door for me. I literally bite my tongue to stop myself from chastising him for opening my door. This is not a date. This is a dog rescue mission. Or a Paw Patrol, as the foster kids I volunteer with call it.

But then I think back to what Preston said earlier about me being offended because he called me sweetheart.

What’s wrong with me? Why am I so bitchy? Yes, he’s selling dogs, and so I have a valid reason to dislike him, but these days, I seem to fight with everyone.

I force myself to say thanks. I expect him to tease me a little, but he just nods as he starts the truck.

“Where to?”

I resist the urge to cop a feel of his bulging biceps and instead type the address into his navigation system.

He reads the screen and gives me a side-eye. “You were honestly going to go there by yourself tonight? That’s a super sketchy area. How do you know this guy’s even going to give you the dog? He could lure you there and rape you. Or kill you.”

Well, isn’t Preston just a ray of sunshine. “Why are you so paranoid? The guy just wants to dump his dog. He’s not going to hurt me. Besides, I have pepper spray in my purse.”

He laughs. “Pepper spray? By the time you grab it, he could’ve already attacked you. Too bad I don’t have my pistol on me.”

“Your pistol?”

“Yes, my pistol. I’m a Marine. Trained as a sniper.”

This guy can’t possibly be more wrong for me. There’s no way we have anything in common.

Then why is his strong, earthy scent intoxicating me?

I roll down the window and look outside. I’m not in the mood for small talk, so I just focus on the traffic. After a moment, Preston clears his throat.

“How did you get into dog rescue?”

I sigh. “Nope. We aren’t going to do this. I’m not going to just open up and create an emotional bond with you. I appreciate you for being willing to temporarily foster this dog, and I vow to get her into a permanent foster home as soon as possible, so I don’t have to see you more than absolutely necessary. But then again, fostering a homeless dog is the least you could do to make up for opening a pet store.”

“Gotcha.”

That shuts him up pretty fast.

He enters the freeway, and we spend the rest of the ride in silence. After almost thirty minutes, he exits inland. Damn, he’s right—this isn’t the best area. I’d never admit it to him, but I’m grateful he’s with me.

I text the owner that we’re outside his apartment complex.

Preston jumps out of his truck. I attempt to open my own door, but he does it before I can. I’m still shocked by his gentlemanly behavior. I haven’t exactly been pleasant to him, so I’m not sure why he continues to be so nice to me.

Gidget’s owner exits the building and pulls the little dog on a leash. She wags her tail, sniffing the ground excitedly. Poor girl probably thinks she’s going on a walk. Little does she know she’s about to be ripped from the only home she’s ever known.

I pause for a moment and remember being told one night by one of my foster moms to throw my things into a black, plastic trash bag and to wait outside because she no longer wanted me. I sat on the curb and cried, scared to death as the social worker picked me up and dumped me in another home.

I swallow my past and try to focus on Gidget. I don’t need Preston to see me cry.

I refuse to greet Gidget’s owner. “Do you have any paperwork for her? Shot records? Favorite toys? Her bed?”

He rubs his chin thoughtfully and belches before scratching at his balls. “Nope.”

Figures.

Preston kneels down and pets the dog. She immediately licks his hand. I try not to react, but my stone-cold heart melts a little bit.

In the meantime, I have the owner fill out the relinquishment form on our website from my phone.