Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,145

bend down to the floor. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

Chapter Sixteen

“Meet Grover,” Dean says from behind me, shutting the door. “I have to take him out real quick.” He scrambles to a table by the front door and grabs a long black leash.

The dog rolls over on his back, letting me pet him, but when Dean clicks the leash, he’s up and panting with his tail swinging back and forth.

“I never thought my dog would cockblock me. Don’t leave, okay?”

I chuckle. “I’ll go with you.”

“Really?” Dean seems shocked and I don’t understand why, I’m a dog person.

“I guess I could stay here and snoop.”

“Come on, it’s a great night for a walk.” He swings his arm around my shoulders pretending like he wouldn’t want me here without him.

Truth is I do pry, it’s in my nature, and I don’t want to do that to Dean.

We leave the apartment and head to the elevators. “What kind of dog is Grover?”

“Bulldog.”

“He looks like he might be a drooler. Does he shed?”

Dean chuckles. “Wondering how you’ll clean up after him already?”

“You’re way too hopeful.”

“Optimistic. There’s a difference.”

The elevator dings and the doors open. We file in, Grover panting a musical melody as the elevator descends.

I look down at the drool dripping from his tongue and watch a long strand of saliva stretch to the floor.

Please don’t shake. Please don’t move.

Like he heard the worries running through my head, his head twists and he stares up at me with intrigued eyes. The long gross strip of drool drips and lands on the carpet.

“Is there something wrong with Labradors or golden retrievers? Or how about a small poodle?”

The elevator doors open, and we step into a large foyer decorated with brass and marble. “A doorman? Fancy.”

“Well, I am an attorney after all.” He straightens his back like it’s a big deal, but I know it’s an act.

When I walked out on him five years ago, he was passed out on a mattress that had no frame or box spring. Our eatery set included paper plates and not the name brand ones. The ones where you grab ten plates instead of just one because it’s near impossible to peel one away from the other. No metal silverware or glass cups. It wasn’t exactly like we were eating steak and needed a heavy-duty knife anyway. We were college students and the only thing we had between us was love—but that hadn’t proved to be enough.

Now he lives in a condo with a man who opens doors for him. The foyer here is bigger than our apartment back then. I shouldn’t be so surprised. He sacrificed every part of his life for baseball, including me. Why would he not do the same for whatever he wanted after his dream to go to the big leagues was over?

A thought flashes through my brain like a light bulb that was just turned on and I realize that he’s going to use that same drive to get me. Which means, I’m in way over my head.

“Clark, this is Chelsea. Chelsea this is Clark.”

A tall man stands from behind the desk. “Nice to meet you, Miss…”

“Walsh, but please call me—”

“Good evening Miss Walsh. What a great night for a walk.” He rounds the desk, staring down at Grover. “What’s the word, Grover? Looks like you got some company tonight.” He flashes Dean a smile.

“Hopefully he can stay on his best behavior and not scare her away,” Dean jokes, walking to the door.

Clark walks a little faster.

“I got it, Clark.” Dean opens the door, but Clark takes it from his hold.

“Don’t go putting me out of a job.” He smiles as we walk through the door.

“Thank you,” I say.

Clark nods. “My pleasure. Have a good walk, Grover.”

The door shuts and the three of us fall in line. Grover seems pretty well trained on a leash, or it’s taking enough energy to get his four legs to hold up his chubby little body.

“There’s a dog park up here a little ways. He’ll do his business and then we’ll head upstairs. Grover doesn’t care for much exercise.”

“Sure thing.”

We walk along the street, Dean positioning Grover’s leash in his left hand, enabling him to be in the middle now. His right hand seeks out mine and goose bumps run up my arm when our fingers entwine. I’ve grown used to this stage of our affection and although my body craves more—we never had this type of loving affection before.

“What do you think went wrong?” I