The Playboy (Chandler Brothers #2)(61)
Author: Carly Phillips

What unbelievable irony. He’d begun his relationship with Kendall to deter his mother and the women she’d encouraged in order to marry him off and get herself grandchildren.

And he’d ended up wanting those very things for himself with the woman who he’d used to foil his mother’s plan. Now if only Kendall wanted those same things.

If only.

Kendall parked her car in the spot behind the guest house and walked to the front door.

The day had been more fun than she’d had in a while. Successful too, she thought and smiled. As she unzipped her bag, a low whining sound reached her ears. She glanced around, but didn’t see anyone or anything. She shrugged and put her briefcase down so she could search her purse for her keys, which she’d stupidly tossed back in her bag so she could get her things out of the car.

The first thing she came up with was the real estate card given to her by Tina Roberts.

The young woman had ordered an ID bracelet and then gone on to solicit business, asking Kendall what she planned to do with her aunt’s house and without waiting for a reply had offered to come by to give her an estimate should she decide to sell. She’d also boasted her many accomplishments and the reasons why she’d make the perfect listing broker. No hesitancy, no shame. No wonder she’d made Realtor of the Month, Kendall thought wryly.

But she couldn’t sell a house for above market value if it wasn’t worth the money and the broker’s card brought home an important point. Kendall hadn’t bothered to do any more work on the house in days. And she hadn’t given another thought to putting the place on the market.

The only thing she had decided was to put Pearl and Eldin in the guest house and make their living there rent-free a condition of sale. She didn’t know who would accept such terms, but there was no way Kendall would displace the older couple completely. She just hoped they’d be happy in the smaller residence, but with Eldin’s bad back, maybe they’d be better off in a one-level place with less maintenance to deal with.

After her incredible day here, Kendall just wasn’t ready to deal with selling the house.

Not when she’d just begun to let herself think about other possibilities in life besides running. Not when she’d just begun to play What If . . .

She had time. Kendall stuck the card back in her bag and continued to poke around until her fingers wrapped around her keys when the pitiful noise sounded again, closer now.

Glancing down, she saw a dog. A sandy-colored, shaggy-looking dog staring up at her with deep, soulful eyes.

“Hi there,” Kendall said, approaching cautiously.

When the dog’s tail began a metronomic wag with no menace in sight, Kendall bent down to pet her. Her coat was matted as if she hadn’t been cared for in ages but her demeanor was warm and friendly. She wasn’t afraid of Kendall and after a few minutes of head scratching, she rubbed against her legs and next thing Kendall knew she’d rolled onto her back for a belly rub, exposing her private parts for the world to see.

“Well, looks like I was wrong, Mr. Man. You’re a boy.” Kendall laughed. She felt beneath the matted fur on his neck. “No collar or ID. What am I going to do with you?”

She rose and he followed. She walked back to the front door and he tagged along. Twenty minutes later, after she’d given him a bowl of water, cleaned up the mess he’d made by the door because she hadn’t realized the single bark meant he had to do his business, and called Charlotte for the name of the local veterinarian, Kendall and dog were in Dr. Denis Sterling’s office.

“I didn’t know what to do with him,” Kendall explained as the doctor finished up his examination.

“Well, I’m glad you called. I never mind coming in for an abandoned pet.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

Dr. Sterling gave the dog a friendly pat on the head and Kendall an equally reassuring smile. Everything he did reinforced her initial impression of him as a kind man. He appeared to be in his late fifties, a good-looking man with blond hair, no gray, and a weathered face and gentle disposition.

“I didn’t want to page you but Charlotte promised you wouldn’t mind.”

“And she was right. Charlotte’s instincts are good ones.” His voice held warmth.

Charlotte had mentioned that the local vet had a crush on her mother, but Annie Bronson hadn’t returned his feelings. Instead she was working on repairing her broken marriage to Charlotte’s father. Dr. Sterling seemed no worse for the rejection though.

“Here’s what I can figure about your friend here,” the doctor said. “He looks like a soft-coated Wheaton terrier. You can tell by the beige- or wheat-colored coat and the terrier face. From his weight, I’d say he’s full grown, about two or three years old, tops. And from his exuberance around strangers, I’d say he hasn’t been abused.”

“Thank God.” Kendall released the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding.

Dr. Sterling nodded. “The wagging tail’s one clue. Wheatons stay puppies forever personality-wise, so this happy-go-lucky disposition won’t be disappearing anytime soon.” He placed the dog down on the table, forcibly rolling him onto his back. “See how he’s letting me pet his stomach and examine him? He isn’t afraid of this nondominant position. He’s a good, friendly dog. No worries there. You can feel comfortable having him in your home.”

“But . . .”

“I don’t have any reports of a missing dog and after you called me with a description, I made some inquiries to some friends and shelters in other towns nearby. No luck there either. But they all took the information and said they’d call if they hear anything.”

“Dr. Sterling, I’m . . .” Not a permanent resident. She paused, the words not coming as easily as they would have a short time ago.

“Yes?”

“I’m not sure I can keep him. What about a shelter?” Even as she asked, the idea didn’t sit well. He was too cute and lovable to send away. But what would she do with him when she left? If she left . . .

“A shelter’s only an option if you want to risk having him put down. The Harrington Shelter is full to bursting in capacity. They’ll take him but the little dogs get taken home first. It’s a risk putting him there.”

As if he understood, the dog whined and began more furious tail wagging. Begging to be taken home, Kendall thought. With her. After hearing the doctor’s description, there was no choice. “Okay, no shelter.”