to get terrified of her.
I grudgingly pay the adoption fee and wait. The other lady pushes open the door and out she comes leading the seven-pound beast. The dog starts dancing the moment she sees me as realization dawns on me that I’m taking this… thing home with me. What if I squish it? What if I just like set my hand on it and crush its weak little body?
She hits my leg and starts pawing at it as she looks up at me. The woman picks the dog up and stuffs her into my arms, although I was more than prepared to never hold the monster again.
“Now we need a picture of our happy adopter and adoptee for our Facebook page!” she says as she whips out a camera.
“Excuse me, what?” I growl.
“We take pictures of all our adopters and their purrfect new companions!” she says like I actually wanted an explanation of this travesty.
Shoot me now. I would rather be shot with a fucking gun than a camera at this moment.
“No,” I growl, and she snaps the picture before looking at it.
“How cute! If you have any questions, feel free to call. Here is your paperwork and have a wooftastic day!”
Oh. My. God. Kill me.
The creature wiggles and wags its tail as I carry it out to the car in a stupefied daze. What have I done? What has my life become?
The dog dances on my lap and paws at my chest since I’m ignoring it. When I continue to ignore her, she whines, so I set a finger on her head and her tail starts going a hundred miles an hour again.
“Stop being so happy.”
That seems to make her happier.
That’s when I get a message from DeGray asking if I could sign something before I leave for the day. I text him that I’ve already left, but that I do drive right by the department on the way home, so I’ll sign it then.
He thanks me and I head to the department as the dog curls up on my lap with a big sigh. Every time I glance at her, her ugly-as-fuck bat ears perk up and her tail starts thumping.
“You’re hideous.”
Her tail wags faster.
“Stop looking at me.”
She won’t stop looking at me.
I pull into the department and set her on the passenger seat. “Stay.”
I open the door and she pops right out the front door and starts prancing off through the parking lot.
“Dammit!” I growl. “Dog! Get back here!”
Shit. Now I’m going to get it run over in the parking lot or some nonsense. Then I’ll have to lie and tell Finn they declined the application.
“What in the hell is this thing?”
I look up at the worst possible person I could run into during this situation.
Karsyn.
He’s holding the little thing in a hand, examining it.
He cocks his head as he stares at the wiggling monster. “Is this a rat? What is it?”
“It’s not mine,” I grumble.
A huge grin explodes on his face. “My, my, my. You’ve become such a weak man and all because of love? Did you get this thing for Finn? To make him feel better about his size?”
“No. He adopted it.”
Karsyn is delighted about this. “That’s hilarious. What happened to you, Marcus?”
“Do you want a fight?”
That’s when the department door opens and I see Brooks, our boss, glance at us.
“That’s a big-ass rat!” he says before coming over. “Oh, lord! Karsyn, I thought you caught a rat! What is it?”
“Marcus’s new doggy,” Karsyn says with a wicked grin.
Brooks raises an eyebrow before getting close to me and examining me. Then he checks my forehead. “Are you… are you dying?”
“I hate both of you. Do either of you want that thing? I’ll tell Finn he didn’t get approved.”
Karsyn smiles at it. “It’s kind of sweet, but she already has eyes just for you.”
Brooks takes her from Karsyn and then just laughs at it. “Why are its ears so big?”
“Is there something wrong with me?” I ask, kind of concerned.
Brooks laughs even harder, which makes the little dog more excited. “The thing about Finn is that he has this way of making everyone like and care for him. Even Karsyn likes him.”
Karsyn groans. “I try not to.”
“This has become a disaster,” I decide. “I need to go sign something for DeGray. Will one of you pretend the dog is yours until I’m done?”
Brooks tucks her back in my arms. “You look good like that.”
“Very masculine,” Karsyn jokes.
“Do you think we should get him a purse