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Authors: Jennifer Probst

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BOOK: Searching for Disaster
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He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. She released her breath in a long rush, mirroring a longing sigh. “I believe it. And that's the same problem with me today. I haven't felt that need to own a particular dog yet. One who speaks to me and demands I take him or her home. One with a soul connection.”

“Maybe we're both just dreamers who'll get hurt,” she whispered.

“Maybe not.”

Within the chaos, there was a perfect circle of silence around them. He lowered his head, and Izzy knew he was about to kiss her again. She also knew she couldn't stop him.

Didn't want to stop him.

“There you two are!” A pretty blonde with a high ponytail and dazzling smile jumped in front of them, breaking the moment. She wore a hot-pink T-shirt with the slogan
KEEP
CALM AND RESCUE ON
. “Come with me to see them. We have to be quick because they're in high demand.”

“Umm, I don't think we're the people you're looking for.”

The blonde wasn't listening, pushing them down the hall like they were a couple of disobedient puppies. “Come, come; time is wasting. I have two picked out for you I thought you'd like to meet first. One is the runt, and she gets a bit nervous at times, so just be careful.”

Liam tried to speak up. “No, see, we're with Arilyn and waiting for her to get back.”

“Oh, we adore Arilyn around here, but she's very busy, and we did talk to each other over the phone.”

“Actually, we didn't and—”

“Here we are. Let me just grab them for you.”

Izzy looked down and lost her voice.

Puppies.

There were about half a dozen of them, with large, floppy ears and short, stout legs and the biggest, brownest eyes she'd ever seen. Their coats varied, but they were mostly a mix of gorgeous colors, like a canvas where a toddler decided to throw paint. White and black and reddish brown and gray, all mingled and mottled over their bodies. They rolled over one another in endless play, making little barks and mewling. Three of them were cuddled up in a heap, snoring. One was trying desperately to topple the water dispenser, jumping up and growling at the metal as if it were an enemy.

The blonde scooped up two and plopped one in Izzy's arms. She pointed to the puppy. “That's the runt of the litter. She's a bit shy, but she has spirit.” She turned to Liam and pushed the second puppy into his embrace. “You have the boy. For some reason, these two have been very close. They're bonded in some way. Always together. We'd prefer to keep them in the same household, if possible.”

Izzy looked down into the most adorable face she'd ever seen in her life. The puppy was reddish-brown with white splotches, and had Dumbo-like ears that practically covered her cheeks. Nose twitching, tiny puppy teeth nibbled at her finger as she stroked the velvety snout, and a warm tongue lashed out to lick her. The smell of brand-new life and deliciousness swarmed her senses. With a little whimper, the puppy wriggled for a better position, and her silky fur was a caress against Izzy's bare skin, offering warm comfort. She kissed her face, enjoying her puppy breath, laughing at the fur ball in her grasp with the big brown eyes and too-large feet and lapping tongue.

And then, just like that, Izzy fell in love.

She looked over at Liam. He looked just as entranced with the wriggling body in his arms. A softness in his face fascinated her, and she caught a hint of how he'd look with his child in his arms, as if humbled by the opportunity to be able to love someone that much.

Her heart crumbled. She was a goner.

Ponytail Lady kept talking. “They're a mix of beagle and basset hound, so they may have a bit of a howl. They should reach an average weight of fifty pounds, no more, the runt definitely less so. Fully tested and weaned. What do you think?”

Liam lifted his gaze and met hers.

Perfect understanding passed between them.

“We'll take them,” they said together.

“What are you doing?”

Arilyn marched up to them, a look of horror flickering over her face. “Deb, why are you showing them the puppies? I told them to wait for me; they're only interested in the older dogs.”

Deb looked back and forth between them in pure confusion. “Wait—I thought this was the couple I had an appointment with. We didn't speak on the phone?”

“We tried to tell you,” Liam pointed out.

“I'm sorry, Arilyn, my mistake. Here, let me take them back.” Deb reached for the puppy Izzy held, but Izzy backed away, protecting the little runt in her arms.

“No! She's mine. I want her.”

Arilyn's mouth dropped open. For the first time in her life, Izzy realized her friend actually owned a temper. “Absolutely not. You are not ready to cope with the stress of owning a puppy. I'll set you up with a dog who's potty trained already, and you'll have the structure you're both looking for. Devine, you agree, right?”

Liam shook his head. Within his strong arms, his puppy looked small but well protected. “No. I want him. He's mine.”

Deb backed away from the mess. “Umm, I gotta go, Arilyn. They need help in the cat room. See ya!”

Her ponytail bobbed as she took off.

Izzy raised her chin, ready to fight for her puppy. No one was going to separate them. Liam inched toward her to unite in the stand against Arilyn.

“Guys, this is crazy! This is why I try to keep people away from the puppies.” She closed her eyes and moaned. “Listen to me—you need to be reasonable. They will wreck your house and poop everywhere and cry. They're like newborns and the first few weeks are critical. Plus, these two are super close. Do you really want to separate them?”

Emotion washed over her. Izzy's lower lip trembled. No. She couldn't give her up now, just when they'd found each other.

Liam cleared his throat. “Listen, they can meet at the dog park. Isabella and I both live in Verily. They can play with Robert and Pinky, and we can structure playdates together. It can work.”

Ignoring the knowledge this would tie her to Liam, she jumped in with desperation. “Yes! That would work, right?”

Arilyn nibbled at her lower lip. “Maybe. Yes, that could definitely work. It would be extremely difficult to find them a home together anyway, so this would be the next best thing.” Turning into the fierce warrior she was, she pointed her finger at both of them. “Are you truly ready for this? It really does resemble being a parent to a newborn. You both need to feel one hundred percent committed to training and providing structure.”

In response, the runt suddenly made a choking noise. Izzy quickly held her up higher to see what the problem was.

And then her puppy threw up.

Sad, mortified eyes stared into hers. Izzy realized this would be her new life, and it might not be easy. Vomit stuck to her clothes and was splattered on her pants. She looked at Arilyn.

“See what I mean? This one's nervous and when she gets stressed, she throws up!”

Ridiculous tears burned Izzy's eyes. “I don't care. I love her,” she burst out.

“I love him, too,” Liam said stubbornly. “We're taking them.”

Arilyn stared at both of them hard, then slowly began to grin. The grin grew by epic proportions, turning into a belly laugh that exploded in the room. Both puppies stopped wriggling and turned to look at her. “Yes. You two are official goners. You found your canine mates. Let's go get you set up so you can take them home.”

Izzy cuddled her puppy and happily followed her friend out.

chapter eight

“N
O, HAN SOLO.
Don't chew. You'll get sick.”

Exhausted, he reached down to pluck Han from chewing the last good leg of his coffee table. He settled the pup on his chest, hoping he'd relax for an hour. A minute. Hell, a second would work at this point.

Instead, he caught the scrunched-up face Han got when he needed to pee.

“No! No, let's go out, let's go out,” he sang crazily, scrambling up from the couch to grab the leash. “Hold it, Han, hold it—no!”

Too late. Pee scattered on the carpet and over his hand.

“Yuck! Ugh, that's disgusting.” Devine shot into the kitchen, grabbed a mass of paper towels, and swiped the pup's belly. It must've tickled, because Han began to squirm and desperately lick, resembling the cutest miniature Ewok he'd ever seen.

He melted. “Aww, okay, you tried, buddy. Right? Let me clean this up.” As he cleaned up the carpet, he decided to pull it up next weekend and go back to wood floors. Sure, they were a bit scratched, but it would work while Han was young, and then he'd put in the investment to strip them and make them new again. After the peeing was done.

Devine scrubbed and wondered what time it was. He'd been in a constant time warp of discipline, getting Han to walk on the leash, and trying to be on top of accidents. When had he eaten? Ah hell, forget it. It was early, but he'd try to get to bed and catch up on sleep. Weren't puppies supposed to sleep for most of the day, or was that some kind of cruel lie to woo owners?

Han didn't like sleep. He liked trouble.

After Devine cleaned up, he took Han for his final walk, then got him ready with his crate. Arilyn had explained it was important for puppies to sleep in a crate at night for structure and to limit damage. Later on, you could bring them to your bed, but if you started off wrong, you were stuck with bad habits forever.

Devine didn't believe in bad habits. Sure, last night was a nightmare with no sleep, but tonight he was sure they'd both pass out cold.

“Come on, Han, time for bed.”

The pup anticipated the move and took off, running furiously around the house and leading Devine on a crazy chase. How could the little bugger be so hard to catch? Finally, he dove and got him, scooping him up and settling him inside his crate. He'd made it warm and cozy, with stuffed toys, approved chewy bones, one of his shirts for his scent, and a blanket. Still, Han didn't agree with him on the home design, because he went frantic, crying and scratching at his crate in an effort to get to Devine.

“No, I'm sorry, Han. You sleep in the crate. I sleep in the bedroom.”

The hound howl was long and painful. Devine rubbed his head. What should he do? The poor thing looked so miserable. But then he remembered when Stone began taking Pinky to work because she'd totally manipulated him with her crying. No, he was stronger. More disciplined. He'd do what Arilyn and the
Raising a Puppy
book said.

Exhibiting confidence he didn't feel, he turned out the lights and headed into his bedroom. Usually his oasis, he'd decorated it with forest greens and earth colors. His furniture was a gorgeous dark wood, and the bed had a leather-padded headboard. The decorations were sparse, but each had meaning. The framed picture of his family at his brother's wedding. The antique tapestry chair he'd found at a garage sale and restored on his own as a side project. The painting of Tuscany's rolling hills drenched in light, where he'd always wanted to go on his honeymoon. His framed diplomas from college and the police academy. A safe haven to sleep, with no outside stress.

He pulled on an old T-shirt and sweat shorts and climbed into bed.

Then listened to an hour of nonstop howling and crying.

Devine tried with every iota of his being to ignore Han and sleep. But the howls shredded every nerve ending until he was a jumping, shaking mess. Finally, he marched out of the bedroom and knelt beside the crate, where Han made a frantic effort to escape his prison.

The book said hold a hard line. Arilyn had warned him of what could happen. What was he going to do?

He reached for the phone and punched in her number.

“Hello?”

“You gotta help me, Isabella.”

“Liam? What's the matter? Is your puppy okay?”

He held the phone up to Han's wild cries. “Does that sound like he's okay?”

Her voice was husky with exhaustion. “You put him in the crate, right? Did he sleep at all last night?”

“No; neither of us did. I'm going out of my head. I took off an extra day so I can make some headway with his training, but I haven't slept, and he cries if I'm not with him, and he pees everywhere, and I'm so fucking tired. How are you coping?”

Her sigh told him everything. “I'm not. Same story here. Leia won't sleep and she tears through the house, and I already lost a shoe 'cause she's so small she wriggled into the tiny crack in my closet and had a leather feast.”

“Yeah, I lost three table legs. You named her Leia?”

“Isn't that sweet? Princess Leia, to be exact. What did you name yours?”

He paused. Somehow he had a feeling she wouldn't like it. “Umm, Han. Han Solo.”

Silence.

He rubbed his head and Han shrieked in frustration that he was still stuck in his crate. The voice on the line shook with temper. “What? You named him Han Solo? That's ridiculous! People are going to think we came up with that as a couple! Why did you have to do that?”

He growled back. “You don't have the rights to
Star Wars
—I always wanted a pet named after Han. He's my favorite character!”

“Yeah, but Leia is mine and I thought of it first.”

“I had my name picked out for years.”

“So did I! We're going to look idiotic at the dog park! Why couldn't you be more original?”

“Why couldn't
you
?” he practically shouted. “Listen, I don't have time for this stupid argument right now. You gotta come over.”

“I'm not coming over!”

“I'm serious, Isabella. I need help. I'm on the edge. Arilyn said not to let him in the bed, and last night I ended up trying to sleep on the rug next to him but he cried all night. I'm falling apart. Bring over Leia. Maybe they miss each other.”

A groan came over the line. “Maybe you should call Arilyn. I'm in my pajamas. I'm tired.”

“Is Leia letting you sleep?”

A pause. “No. It's bad here. Very bad.”

“Then I'll come to you. I'll be right over.”

“No! Dammit, okay, I'll come over there. What's your address?”

He gave it to her. “Hurry.”

“Look, I'm not interested in any shenanigans. I'm coming solely to help the dogs, so you have to promise not to make any moves.”

“Are you kidding me? I have no interest in shenanigans either. Yes, you're hot and I want you bad, but I'm tired and cranky, and I just want to make him stop howling and peeing and chewing. Got it?”

“Fine.”

The phone clicked.

Devine faced Han. Puppy teeth bit at the crate's bars, and he let out fierce howls, shaking his large ears when they flopped in his face. “Fine. We're getting company, so you can stay up later tonight.” He clicked open the door and scooped the puppy out. Raising him up to his direct vision, he spoke firmly. “There will be no more of this nonsense. When I declare bedtime, you need to sleep. But Isabella and Leia are coming over, so you get a respite.”

Han licked the tip of his nose and sighed with canine satisfaction.

And damned if Devine's heart didn't melt like the pussy he was.

“I CANNOT BELIEVE
I'm doing this,” Izzy muttered under her breath, pulling into the circular driveway. She squinted through the dark to make out the outline of a decent-size ranch with a fenced-in yard and a small covered porch. Her curiosity was piqued. She'd finally get to see his house.

Little whimpers poured from the backseat. “I know, sweetie; we're here. You're going to see your brother.” She got out of the car and slid the crate out, walking up the winding path. When he called, she'd been in a state of near tears from Leia's constant howling for the second night in a row. His crazy request to come over actually sounded sane. At this point, she'd try anything, even though she was still mad he had ruined her unique name by stealing another character for his own puppy. So unfair.

The door opened before she could knock. Her heart pounded and her body went on instant alert. How was this fair? He was literally a mess. Hair sticking up, a rough five o'clock shadow hugging his jaw, wearing a faded T-shirt and black sweat shorts, and sporting bare feet. She'd barely been able to pull on some old jeans, a blue sweatshirt with a hole in it, and flip-flops. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and her makeup was almost nonexistent. She looked awful.

Yet he looked more delectable than ever. She wanted to pounce, climb on him, lick at that stubble, tear off his clothes, and ride him hard.

The image slammed into her brain, and she shook her head hard to dissipate it.

“Thank God you came. Come in.” He took the crate from her and set it on the earth-tone carpet, then shut the door. “Han, I have a surprise for you,” he called out.

A whizzing ball of fur flew to her and attacked her ankles, nibbling on the strap of her shoe and wildly licking her toes. She burst into giggles and picked him up, placing a kiss on his snout. “That tickles, you little fur ball,” she crooned. “Have you been torturing Liam?”

“Prisoners of war should be locked up with a puppy to take care of. That would teach 'em,” he muttered, pulling Leia into his arms. “Come here, sweetheart. You have your brother to play with now.”

A shiver raced down her spine at his low, crooning voice. Her nipples twisted into hard points, and her panties dampened. Crap. He had to stop talking like that to her puppy or she'd break.

They placed the puppies on the floor and watched them hurl themselves together in a crazy embrace. Tumbling around and around, nipping at ears, legs entangled, it seemed like a joyous homecoming that got Izzy all mushy.

“Have you slept at all this weekend?” he asked.

“An hour or two at the most,” she admitted.

“How bad are the accidents?”

Izzy sighed. “I'm glad I don't have wall-to-wall carpets. At least I can pull up the throw rugs temporarily.”

“Yeah, but do you take her outside on the leash forever, and then when she comes back in, she pees right in front of you like she thinks you're an idiot?”

Izzy laughed. “Yep. They're not in control of their bladders, I think. Arilyn said if we keep taking them out, eventually they'll get it.”

“Let's just hope it's not a year from now. I thought I was a strong person. But I'm cracking, Isabella, and it's only been a weekend.”

“I know. We need to dig deep and things will get better. They're babies.”

“Yeah, you're right. I love the little bugger, too. Can I get you a Coke? Tea?”

“Water would be great for now.”

Letting the puppies wrestle freely, he headed to the open kitchen overlooking the spacious living room. Izzy walked around, taking in the layout. It was a beautiful house. Dark wood furnishings and neutral colors screamed masculinity, from the leather sectional to the large espresso dining table. A surplus of technological equipment such as a megascreen television, speakers, and shelves full of DVDs and books was scattered about. The ceilings held a crisscross of beams, adding a bit of the rustic. A fireplace framed in distressed brick took up the far wall, surrounded by crooked shelves holding an array of books. An antique-looking cabinet painted red was the only shock of color besides a few green, leafy plants strategically placed around the room. The walls were mostly bare except for a family photo here and there. No throw pillows or blankets or feminine touches softened the stark look. The kitchen had a butcher-block counter, updated stainless-steel appliances, and nice ceramic floor tiles. The table held a MacBook Air, several folders, and the daily clutter that marked a well-lived-in house.

BOOK: Searching for Disaster
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