The Boyfriend Project Read online

  Thinking of U. ☺

  Smiling, I sent him back the same message. He was always texting me with little reminders about how much he loved and thought about me.

  Chocolate was happy to see me, his entire body jerking back and forth with the enthusiasm of his wagging tail. He knew what it meant when I was holding the leash. When I opened the door, he jumped up, his paws landing heavily on the shoulders of my five-foot-four frame and nearly taking me down to the ground. He licked my neck and face. “Okay, okay.” Here was another dog that I wished like crazy I could take home.

  Heck, if I could, I’d take them all.

  “Hey, Kendall,” Terri, the shelter’s director, said as she walked in carrying what looked like a Lhasa apso mix.

  “What a cutie!” I ran my fingers over his silken hair. He was beautiful, looked to be recently groomed.

  “His name is Fargo. His owner just surrendered him because she can’t take care of him anymore. It was hard on her. She went through half a box of tissues while she filled out the paperwork.”

  Difficult for the dog, too. He wouldn’t be able to understand why he was here. But he had such a sweet face. “How old is he?”

  “Four.”

  “Then he won’t be here long,” I assured her. The small, cute, young ones always went quickly.

  “Hope not, but then I hope that for all of them.” She walked off to get him situated in his temporary home, and I led Chocolate outside. Once I unhooked the leash, he bounded across the open expanse. I could see Bogart still sunning himself.

  I brought out two more dogs before lifting Bogart into my arms to carry him inside. He could walk, just not that well, and I felt like loving on him a little. I’d just gotten him settled in and was moving on to take a golden to the play area when I heard the door to the reception area open and glanced back. Avery and her six-year-old brother walked in.

  I grinned when Tyler immediately squatted down in front of the first kennel and pressed his hand to the door. He had so much energy and excitement that I knew he would make a wonderful friend for a dog. For Bogart.

  I started striding toward them. “Hey!”

  Avery smiled. “Looks like love at first sight here.”

  “You should look around,” I told her. “Make sure.”

  “Oh, we will,” she assured me. “We’re not taking a Pyrenees home. My mom made it clear she’d veto anything too big.”

  “Avery, look!” Tyler cried out as he hopped over to the next kennel where a Jack Russell terrier was showing off by leaping onto the windowsill. “I want him.”

  “First of all, him is a her,” she said patiently. “But we want something a little less rambunctious.”

  “What’s ram . . . ?” He screwed up his face.

  “Rambunctious means energetic. You run around enough for ten dogs.”

  “This one,” he said, and dashed across to another cage.

  She just shook her head.

  “We have a room where you can take a dog and play with him for a while, figure out if you mesh,” I told her as we joined her brother outside another kennel.

  She studied the sheet clipped to the door that provided all the stats we knew about the dog and some of our guesses. The dachshund had been a stray so we could only guess age, and as far as we could tell he wasn’t housebroken. As though to prove the point, he lifted a leg—

  Avery snatched her brother up out of the incoming stream. “Definitely want one that’s housebroken,” she said.

  “There’s a really sweet basset hound over here,” I told her, and directed them toward Bogart.

  Bogart struggled up and limped to the door. Sometimes I felt like the dogs knew exactly what was going on, that they were on display, that people were trying to determine whether or not to provide them with a home.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Tyler asked, squatting down until he was practically eye level. “Does he have an owie?”

  “He has arthritis,” I said. Tyler blinked at me. Right, he probably didn’t know what arthritis was. “Yeah, he has an owie.”

  “Oh.” He pouted out his lower lip in sympathy and turned back to Bogart.

  I looked at Avery expectantly but she was shaking her head as she read his paperwork. “What’s the life expectancy of a basset hound?” she asked really quietly.

  I couldn’t lie to her, no matter how badly I wanted him to have a home. “Ten to twelve.”

  She arched a brow. “That’s going to give Tyler a really quick life lesson.”

  I grimaced. “I know.” Since he’d been in the foster care system before Avery’s parents adopted him, Tyler had enough life lessons under his belt already.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But we want something a little younger.”

  “No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t thinking. We did just get in a younger dog, adorable. Trained. His owner had to give him up.”

  I took them to where Terri had placed Fargo. Tyler laughed and clapped when he saw the Lhasa. Grinning, Avery took his paperwork and read it over.

  “Oh, he seems perfect,” she said.

  “Do you want to take him to the playroom?” I asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  I opened the door. Eagerly, Fargo raised up on his hind legs, placed his paws on my thighs. He was a smaller dog, with tan-and-white curling hair. I slipped the leash on him and led the way to one of our playrooms near the reception area. As soon as we were inside, I released my hold on the tether and he raced over to Tyler.

  Tyler giggled, dropped down on the floor, and began to play with the dog.

  “Well, that’s a good sign,” Avery said as she leaned against the wall, watching as her brother became engrossed in petting Fargo. “So I guess we’re getting a dog.”

  “You won’t regret it, I promise. Just give him some tender loving care.”

  “Dot said that was pretty much all I had to give her dogs while she was away. Tell me you’ll be there to help.”

  “Yep. I got the all clear from my mom for going to the beach. And Jeremy is in.”

  “Great. We’re going to have so much fun.”

  I hoped so. Pressing my back to the wall, I was close enough to Avery that I could whisper. “So just to be clear, when you mentioned the bedrooms—you and I aren’t sharing one, right?”

  She shifted her gaze over to me. “No. I figured Fletcher and me, you and Jeremy. Are you okay with that?”

  “Oh, yeah, absolutely. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page, or in this case, not in the same bed.”

  Turning, she rolled along the wall until only her shoulder was touching it. “That night when you told your mom you were spending the night at my house—”

  “Nothing happened.”

  Avery furrowed her brow. “Nothing at all?”

  “Very little. We kissed some, but mostly we sat out by the lake and served as a buffet for mosquitoes. I thought we’d do more. . . .” Avery was my best friend. I could tell her anything, but this was so personal. I felt the heat warm my face. “We chickened out.”

  “You weren’t ready. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “It’s more like Jeremy wasn’t ready. He’s so cautious, wants to make sure we don’t have any regrets.”

  “Again, nothing wrong—”

  “Avery, look, he thinks I taste good!” Tyler crowed, interrupting our conversation. Fargo had settled on Tyler’s lap and was licking his hand.

  I knew even if Avery’s brother had heard what we were saying, he wouldn’t know what we were talking about. I knelt down. “Those are dog kisses,” I told him.

  He beamed. “He loves me.”

  I knew being loved was important to Tyler. Avery had shared with me some of the challenges of dealing with her brother’s insecurities when he first came to live with her family. “I think he does, yes.”

  “Guess we found our dog,” Avery said. “Will they hold him for us until Mom can come by and get him after work?”

  “Absolutely. Come on, T
yler, we need to take him back to his pen.”

  “I want to keep him,” he said, hugging Fargo fiercely.

  “You will,” I assured him, “but first we have to give him a chance to say good-bye to the other dogs. When your mom gets here later, he’ll be ready to go. I bet you’re big enough to walk him back to his pen.”

  He nodded. I knew at his age being big enough to do things was important, too. As we walked down the corridor, Avery leaned in and whispered, “Well played.”

  “You learn a lot taking care of dogs.”

  “You’re going to make a good vet,” she said.

  “Hope so.”

  When we closed Fargo in his pen, he pawed at the door. I thought he was already in love with Tyler. When we passed by Bogart, my heart broke just a little because he didn’t come to the door in anticipation. He stayed curled on the small bed set up for him in a corner, as though he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Well, we’d just see about that.

  Chapter 4

  JEREMY

  Need you to come by the shelter after work.

  I had a feeling that Kendall’s text didn’t bode well. She didn’t throw around the word need lightly. She liked being in control, depending on herself.

  Although a part of me also wondered if her text was simply a diversion to keep me from getting a haircut. I’d been surprised when she mentioned growing it out. Not that I hadn’t thought about it. I’d looked like a young conservative since I was four years old. My parents were all about appearances. Outward appearances, anyway. People driving through our neighborhood saw “upper class.” They didn’t see the insanity that occurred within the walls of our house.

  I knew that I’d probably have another disagreement with my dad when he saw that I hadn’t taken his firmly toned suggestion to get my hair cut, but Kendall’s needs had precedent over his wants.

  When I walked through the shelter doors, I waved at Terri who was standing behind the reception counter.

  “Hey, Jeremy,” she said. “Kendall’s in the back.”

  “Thanks.” I’d been here often enough that people knew me. I wasn’t an official volunteer, but sometimes I came to help Kendall. She was a stickler for keeping all the cages clean, making sure all the dogs had equal attention. I’d left here covered in fur more than once.

  I located her in the puppy room. She was holding a tiny pup, feeding it with a small bottle. I leaned against the doorjamb, crossed my arms over my chest, and just watched her. Her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail but several strands had escaped and were circling her face. Every now and then she would skew up her mouth and blow out a burst of air. The curls would fly around before falling back into place.

  It was probably driving her crazy. She didn’t like anything out of place.

  But I thought it was sexy as hell. But then I thought everything about her was.

  Looking up, she smiled the smile that had first kicked me in the gut. I’d been in the new school for all of a week, feeling out of place, missing my friends. Then she’d smiled at me in chem class when the teacher partnered us for a project, and after that I was pretty much a goner—although it had taken me several months to make my move.

  “When did you get here?” she asked.

  I sauntered over, pushed the loose strands behind her ear. “A few minutes ago. What’s this guy’s story?” I trailed a finger over his soft belly.

  “There’s four of them,” she said, pointing to a small, gated area. “Someone found them under a bridge, abandoned. What is wrong with people?”

  “They’re idiots.”

  “You got that right.” Setting the bottle aside, she lowered the puppy onto a mound of blankets where his siblings were sleeping.

  “I’m not taking a puppy,” I said, hardening my heart to the thought. I didn’t know how she worked here and left all these dogs when her hours were done. It took everything within me not to cart them all home, and I wasn’t nearly as dog crazy as she was.

  “That’s not what I needed you for. Come on.”

  We went out through the door into a corridor. Pens lined each side. Some dogs barked for attention. Some were quiet. Some ran around. Some were still. Kendall came to a stop in front of a door. On the other side was a brown-and-white-spotted dog with long flopping ears and sad, drooping eyes. Uh-oh.

  “Bogart?” I asked, dreading where this was leading.

  “Yeah.”

  “Kendall, I can’t—”

  “All I need you to do,” she said, interrupting, “is sign the paperwork, pretend you’re adopting him. Then I’ll take him.”

  “You sign it.”

  “I have to be eighteen.”

  While I’d turned eighteen three months ago, she had fifty-four days to go. Not that I was counting, but I did have something special planned. Still, I wasn’t comfortable with this deception. It felt like fraud. I’d spent too much time in my dad’s law office obviously. “Have your mom come do the paperwork.”

  She shook her head. “She’ll say no. She doesn’t want a dog.”

  “So what are you going to do? Hide this one under your bed?”

  “No, but once I have him at home, once she’s met him—she’s not going to make me bring him back.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I can handle Mom. I just need you to handle the paperwork.”

  I sighed. This was wrong on so many levels.

  “You know what?” she said. “Never mind.”

  Oh, thank—

  “I’ll just have Fletcher do it.”

  It felt like a punch to the gut. I liked the guy but I didn’t want him doing things for my girlfriend.

  She took out her cell phone. I grabbed her wrist. She lifted her green eyes to me. I always felt like I was drowning when I looked into her eyes.

  “You know he will,” she said. “He has no problem bucking authority.”

  He was a tough guy, all right. Although not as tough as everyone thought, but he probably would sign the paperwork for her. He’d just think it was a lark. And really, wasn’t the point to find good homes for these dogs? There was no better home for a dog than Kendall’s.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.” I didn’t think that I could sound any less enthused.

  Still, Kendall squealed, jumped up, wound her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss on me that had me staggering back against a Rottweiler’s door. He charged and I thought I actually felt his teeth nipping at my backside. Lifting Kendall, I jerked to the side and out of reach.

  She started laughing. “You were safe.” Then she clapped her hands at the dog. “Jon Snow, down.”

  He crouched. Sometimes I thought she was the female version of the Dog Whisperer.

  “Jon Snow?” I asked.

  “Yeah, Terri has a thing for Game of Thrones. Names all the strays after one of the characters.”

  I chuckled. I guessed that was as good a place as any to get names.

  She rose up on her toes and brushed her lips over mine. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll see if you thank me when your mom grounds you for the rest of your life.”

  Chapter 5

  KENDALL

  I needed my mom to fall in love with Bogart at first sight because I wouldn’t be able to take him to college with me. No pets were allowed in the dorm.

  To cover my bases, I bought a big red bow and secured it around Bogart’s neck so she’d understand he was a gift to her. But that didn’t stop her from glowering at me as soon as Jeremy and I walked into the kitchen with Bogart. With her hands on her hips, she gave me a very formidable glare. Or she tried to. I could see her softening as Bogart stared up at her with his soulful eyes.

  “He’ll keep you company when I leave for school,” I assured her. She was a freelance graphic designer, did most of her work from home. “I’ve been really worried about you getting lonely.”

  She arched a finely shaped brow. Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and in spite of her age, she still had f
reckles that made her look adorable and too young to be scolding someone. “Yes, I’m sure my loneliness was a major factor here.”

  “Okay, not a major factor, but I did consider it. The thing is, Mom, he’s near the end of his life expectancy. He mostly just lies around. I couldn’t stand the thought of him dying in the shelter, possibly alone.”

  I was aware of Jeremy jerking his head around to look at me. I guessed he hadn’t considered that aspect of adopting a senior. Some people adopted older dogs just so they could ensure they had a little bit of heaven here on Earth before they headed to the rainbow bridge. Of course, it was always possible that I was wrong and Bogart would be with us for a while. Life expectancy numbers were an average not a set expiration date.

  “I knew it was a mistake to let you volunteer at a shelter,” Mom said. “I guess I should be grateful you went so long without bringing one home.” Then she narrowed her eyes at Jeremy. “What was your role in all this?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “I signed the paperwork.”

  “So legally he’s yours?”

  “Legally, yeah, but—” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m worried about you getting lonely, too.”

  “If you’re both that worried, get me a subscription to a dating service.”

  I laughed, then sobered when a red blush crept up Mom’s cheeks. It had been five years since my dad had died, but still. “Are you serious?”

  She didn’t meet my eyes. “It is going to be really quiet around here when you two are gone. So, okay, Bogart can stay.”

  I gave her a hug. “Thanks, Mom. You won’t be sorry.”

  “Dogs are man’s best friends for a reason.” She turned back to the stove. “Guess you’ll need to go get him some stuff.”

  “We stopped at the pet store on our way home,” I assured her.

  She gave me a pointed look. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Well, if you said no, I was going to take him to Grandma.”

  “Her cats wouldn’t have been too happy about that.”

  She had three, but I figured Bogart was calm enough to get along with them.

  Jeremy brought the items in from his car. We set the bowls in the utility room. Put the bed in my bedroom.