They spent two days at the national seashore, loving and playing together in a way he hadn’t in a long, long time.
It was perfect. Only the reason why they were there at all was a dark cloud over them.
Allen tried not to think of it, but he kept his eyes on their surroundings at all times.
He took his role of her protector seriously.
They were taking off in the morning. They’d stayed in one place too long for his comfort.
She talked him into one more walk up the beach.
Allen made himself a vow—he’d bring her back there someday. Maybe in the same van.
He scooped her up into his arms as the surf broke against his feet.
She felt like glass in his arms. She wasn’t that much shorter than average for a woman, but she felt so delicate. Fragile. Like she’d disappear into the wind if he ever let her go.
Allen understood. He even knew why it felt that way.
He wanted to grab on to the woman in his arms so tightly she’d never get away from him. Never be taken from him. He brushed his lips against hers, then took the embrace deeper.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It was the whimpering that pulled him back.
Fear shot through him, fear that he’d hurt her inadvertently.
The last thing he’d ever want to do was hurt Izzie.
But…she had a puzzled look on her face.
It wasn’t her. Something was growling now. Near his foot.
Something sharp sank into his skin.
He glanced down, then let her feet slip back to the sand. “Izzie, look.”
A bedraggled puppy no more than five pounds was gnawing on the side of his left foot.
Allen leaned down and scooped the small dog into his hands. The poor thing was matted and covered with filth. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a bite mark on its side. Allen turned it slightly. His—his side. It was most definitely male. Still intact. The puppy was not very old. “A puppy.”
He looked at her. Her face had softened, her lips were swollen from his kiss, and she had that dewy-eyed look that had his gut tightening with instant lust. Her attention shifted to the puppy and softened even more. Her mouth rounded softly. “He’s so...dirty.”
“I think he’s been out here for a while.” Allen could feel the ribs. Near starved. “We’ll need to give him a bath.”
“He needs a vet.”
Allen considered it for a moment. They could find a clinic somewhere in Corpus Christi. “He’s most likely underfed and needs cleaned up. Let’s get the van unhooked, and we’ll head over to the mainland. There will most likely be an open clinic. If we go now, we’ll most likely lose our campsite, though.” It was a first-come, first-served place.
“We’re keeping him?” She reached out and stroked the matted fur with her free hand. “Just like that?”
“He doesn’t have a collar, he’s been out here for a while, and we can’t afford to stick around here long enough to wait for an owner to reclaim him. I suspect he was dumped.” Allen wasn’t about to leave the little guy behind to face the world. There were coyotes on the beach at night.
“Or he’s some kid’s missing pet.”
“I highly doubt it out here in a national park, but if it makes you feel better, you can check on the internet for any missing pet notices.”
“I’ll carry him. You just get the van door.” Confirmed germophobe Izzie was reaching for the flea-infested creature without hesitation. Her eyes were soft and loving and beautiful.
Allen felt himself falling for her just a little bit more.
“I can do it.” She almost pouted at him. He knew what she wanted.
“Not with that cast. I’ve got him, sweetheart. We’ll get him cleaned up and taken care of, and grab some puppy supplies while we’re out.”
“He’ll need a name,” she said softly. She hadn’t stopped looking at the dog. She was already half in love.
Izadora MacNamara was a softie through and through. Allen was starting to figure her out. She hid her softer side underneath her prickly exterior. That way she could keep herself safe from hurt.
They carried the puppy to the van, and she moved ahead, unlocking the door. Allen carried the puppy straight to the tiny sink.
“You’re going to wash him there?”
“We’ll bleach the sink when we’re finished.” There was the germophobe again.
“What do we wash him with? I’ve never bathed a dog before.”
“Have you never had one?”
“My uncle has a cat. Well, we do. I’m not sure who he actually belongs to—or whether it’s us that belongs to him. He sort of just showed up one day, and Jake started feeding him. When we moved to our current apartment, we took him with us. He tolerates us.”
“Get warm water. It may take a few washes to get him fully clean. We’ll wash the dirt off first, then see if there are any parasites on him.”
“Should we feed him first? He’s so skinny. He’s been through some sort of hell. Someone or something hurt him. He’s probably lost too much weight. He would have starved if we hadn’t found him.”
“Most likely, someone would have found him. The beach isn’t exactly deserted. Hold his head gently.” Allen used some of the dish soap and began the process. Within a few moments, a yellow-and-white ball of fur began to emerge. The puppy growled and nipped at his fingers, not happy with the water. Allen kept his movements unhurried and easy. Izzie laughed and was ready to assist at a moment’s notice. “Keep the cast dry.”
“I want to hold him.” She was practically hopping with impatience.
Allen felt himself topple right over a cliff. She was perfect. Beautiful. Far more than a man like him deserved. “In time, Izadora the First. Don’t undo all the work we did on the cast.”
“To borrow Nikkie Jean’s expression, ‘Aye-aye, Captain.’ But hurry up. I want to hold him. What should we call him? He looks like an Oliver.”
He looked nothing like an Oliver, but Allen wasn’t saying a thing so contradictory. “Oliver, it is.”
She held out a towel, and after the third wash cycle, he held the puppy out to her. She wasn’t going to wait much longer—and the puppy wasn’t going to tolerate it much longer, either.
She wrapped the puppy up as best she could with the cast. Allen helped, then guided her to the chair. She held the puppy and rocked him, making cooing noises. Allen busied himself getting out some turkey and cutting it into puppy-sized chunks—after bleaching the sink thoroughly.
After the puppy was fed to Izzie’s satisfaction, Allen rolled in the slides and lowered the roof. They’d intended to head out in the morning, as it was. This just sped them up a little.
Spontaneity was safer than not, anyway. They’d find a clinic, give a false name, pay in cash, and then head off into the sunset. There were plenty of places he’d like to take her.
Maybe she’d like South Padre Island, next. Go from pristine North Padre down to tourist-trap South Padre. She’d probably enjoy that.
Allen wanted to show her every mystery the world had, someday. They might as well start in Texas.