Delivering His Gifts (Mountain Men of Liberty #10)- K.C. Crowne Page 0,10
it into my pocket as we headed for the door.
I wanted to believe that Mason was doing all of this out of the goodness of his heart. He seemed like the type of guy who would. But the last time I thought that about any man, I ended up waist deep in debt and caught in a web I would unlikely ever be free from.
We said our goodbyes, and my eyes lingered on his tight ass as he walked to his truck.
“I like him,” Skyler said from beside me.
“You hardly know him,” I muttered.
“He was nice,” my daughter retorted matter-of-factly.
I didn’t want to teach my daughter to be bitter at such a young age, so I kept my thoughts to myself. She was too young to know about the shady people in the world. I stroked her hair back from her face and asked, “So, do you want pizza for dinner tonight?”
I knew the answer before I asked the question. Skyler always wanted pizza.
“Yes! Yes, please Mama! Can we have pizza? Pretty please?”
It was a rare treat these days, as we tried to eat at home as much as possible. But I was tired, and Mason’s visit had pushed back my plans to go to the store. I picked up my phone and called the local pizza place since they didn’t have online ordering.
Skyler was dancing around the living room, singing a made-up song about pizza. I’d almost forgotten about the call with her father and smiled at her sweet innocence.
I plopped down on the couch, my eyes feeling heavy from the long day. I still had to bathe Skyler and put her to bed after dinner. Normally, I’d try to get some work done, but tonight, I was likely to pass out right after she did.
I leaned my head back against the couch, my eyes growing heavier.
Something bumped against my leg, and I opened my eyes. I stared into the eyes of my massive Great Dane. His big, brown gaze and floppy ears brought a smile to my face. Oscar’s grey fur was silky and soft under my fingers. The massive dog rested his head on my chest, leaning into me a bit. He was still just a pup by Dane standards, only around eight months old, but he was easily the most well-behaved dog I’d ever met. So easy to train too. He seemed to understand what I needed from him before I gave the command, and like tonight, he was always willing to lean on me and remind me that there are, indeed, some good males in the world. They just happened to be dogs.
In the past, I’d thought he would make an excellent therapy dog. He was intuitive and friendly and not a mean bone in his body. He loved everyone he met and was truly the epitome of a gentle giant.
“It’s hard to believe you came to me as a scrawny runt,” I said, scratching behind his ears. “Now look at you.”
He was still small by Great Dane standards - only one hundred pounds. Males could reach a hundred and fifty to two hundred, but Oscar hadn’t outgrown his runt status. Or perhaps he was mixed with something. He had the Dane face and body, just on a smaller frame. He also had the temperament. I always said it was a good thing he was smaller than most, though, since the larger ones typically had such short life spans.
There was a thought in the back of my mind, one I was trying to push away. But my brain just wouldn’t shut up.
Oscar would make a perfect emotional support dog.
Yes, yes he would. He was practically mine already. But…
The only but was that I didn’t want to give him up.
But he could truly help someone, my brain countered my heart. He could help Mason’s friend.
Oscar gazed at me as if trying to understand why there were tears welling in my eyes. He gently licked my hand, reminding me he was there for me.
“You’re a good boy, Oscar,” I murmured. “The best boy.”
It’s not like you would never see him again. He’d be living in town. And you could open your home to another dog in need.
None of the dogs I’d sheltered was as ready for emotional support training as Oscar. Hell, he’d probably need very little training. He was a natural.
“Mama! Pizza is here,” Skyler called out, pulling me from my thoughts.
Oscar got up as I stood, and he followed me to the door. He didn’t