Page 39 of Fight For Me

The dog hunches down against the tiles when Alex turns the gentle spray of water on him. Something about that submissive posture hits me right in the gut. He looks so damn sad and helpless.

“What have you been getting into?” Alex murmurs to him while we watch the water turn nearly black as it pours off his fur. “You’re a mess, sir.”

“Sir?” I look over at her. “The dog is a sir?”

She shrugs. “Well, he’s still a stranger—he could have a whole doggy life we know nothing about. I mean, this guy could be out there busting his ass working a 9-5 to support a wife and kids. He might have a mortgage, Wyatt. Figured we should be respectful.”

I can’t help the snort of laughter that erupts out of me. “A mortgage, huh?”

She shrugs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s possible. I’m just saying we shouldn’t get too familiar until we know him better.”

“Isn’t bathing someone the definition of getting familiar?”

Her amused smile is so bright I get stuck it in for a moment, every thought of what we’re supposed to be doing buried beneath the overwhelming desire to just drink her in.

“Think he’s ready for some shampoo?”

I jerk, startled, and fumble for the bottles on the shower ledge closest to me. What the hell am I doing? Openly mooning at her like a freaking teenager. I need to get my shit together.

That gets a hell of a lot harder to do once I pop the top of the shampoo bottle open and the scent hits my nose. It smells like coconuts and the beach—one hundred percent Alex.

“Talk about being respectful,” she mutters, turning the water off. She directs her attention to the dog. “I hope you appreciate this, buddy. That shampoo costs twenty dollars a pop.”

“Shit, seriously?” I stare down at the bottle in my hand. “What the fuck is in this, liquid gold?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sorry we can’t all get by with a two-dollar bottle from the drugstore. Do you know what those chemicals would do to my hair?”

“I’m sure you’d look like a total mess,” I mutter sarcastically, climbing to my feet. Like shampoo makes a big difference for a girl who looks likeher.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab the two-dollar bottle of chemicals from my bathroom,” I tell her. “We don’t need to use your good stuff on a dog.”

The truth is, I could use some distance. Spending too much time alone with Alex in such a small, enclosed space can’t possibly be good for me. I take a deep breath once I hit my room, filling my lungs for what feels like the first time in hours.You can handle this,I tell myself.Just need a little break.

But when I return to her bathroom, my chest clenches all over again. Alex is leaning over into the shower stall, rubbing the dog between his ears, her soft voice carrying over the sound of the water. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” she murmurs. “Some nice warm water. Get you all cleaned off. That feels much better.”

Her soothing words have the opposite effect on me. I don’t feel soothed in the slightest. I feel like I want to grab her and pull her tight against me, wrap my hands into that honey hair and—

“Wyatt?”

She’s holding her hand out for the shampoo, oblivious to the affect she has on me. I should get out of here. I should run far the hell away from Alexandria Fraser. I never should have come to town in the first place and I certainly shouldn’t have let myself be convinced to go along with my uncles’ stupid plan tolivewith her.

“Wyatt?” she asks again, looking at me now, brows drawn in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mutter, handing her the bottle. I can’t leave her alone to deal with the dog. I might feel like a self-centered dick most of the time, but even I’m not that inconsiderate.

It takes a while to get all the mud from our new friend’s fur. I can’t do much with the damn sling on my arm, so I hold the shower head while Alex handles the washing. After the second round of shampoo, I’m surprised to see he has big white splotches on his legs, face, and belly. He remains hunched over for most of the bath, but eventually he starts to respond to Alex’s soothing words and gentle touch. By the time she’s finished, he’s nuzzling his nose into her palm every time she touches him, gazing up at her with wide, adoring brown eyes. I have a feeling his expression is pretty similar to the one I wear when I forget myself and wind up staring at her.

We dry him off as best we can then Alex nudges him over the lip of the shower. I can’t carry him very well with only one hand, so I’m hoping whatever is bothering him with his paw isn’t so serious that he can’t walk. “You want to come get some water?” Alex asks, holding out her hand as she backs to the door. “Come on, buddy.”

He’s limping but he manages to make it out to the kitchen. Alex fills a bowl with water and he laps it up so quickly I’m afraid he’s going to puke. “Let’s go a little slower,” I mutter, picking up the bowl before he can slurp down the whole thing. He doesn’t growl at me for taking his water, he just stares up at me with those sad brown eyes. The thought that he was out there all alone, without food or clean water, for God knows how long, has my chest aching.

“So, what now?” From her slightly shaky voice, I wonder if she’s feeling the same sad ache as me. “He wasn’t wearing a collar or anything. How are we supposed to get him back to where he belongs?”

“I guess I should take him to the vet tomorrow,” I say, rubbing absently at my wrist, which is starting to throb. I’m overdue for a pain pill soon. “I think they should be able to tell if he’s microchipped. And they can check out his paw.”

She nods, brushing the hair out of her face. “I’ll go with you.”