Brick and Mortar (Student Bodies #4) (4 page)

Turner stood at the frosty sliding glass door in the kitchen watching the sun come up. The cold radiating from the glass chilled his bare feet and arms. Several feet of snow were piled around his back yard disturbed only by the tracks of squirrels and birds. It was so quiet, he could hear his thoughts loud and clear.

He’d had a marginally better night sleep than the one before. Gone were his fears Cannon would go to the Dean, but replacing that in the forefront of his mind was Cannon’s temporary contract proposal.

The paper had been folded, unfolded and refolded so many times in the last eighteen hours that it had lost its crispness and was now soft with wear like a well-read love letter. Staving off a shudder, Turner reached into the pocket of his flannel sleep pants and pulled the contract out.

To his credit, Cannon mentioned nothing about a relationship or feelings. His heart clenched in his chest. He couldn’t decide it Cannon’s all-business attitude was a good thing or a bad thing, as ridiculous as that sounded.

It had been two years since Bryce left him. He’d been completely alone ever since. His friends held him close in the beginning but once they got back to their own lives, he became almost reclusive, only leaving the house to work or shop for food. Brock and Chris started dragging him out for guys’ nights out but now that one was married and the other about to get engaged, he’d only be a third wheel.

If Turner had a nickel for every time in the last year Brock urged him to find companionship, he’d be a wealthy man. Looking around the house of his dreams, he realized it was silent as the grave. Maybe Brock was right, he did need companionship.

“Welcome to Paws For People. I’m Morgan. How can I help you?” The young man wearing a bright pink T-shirt bearing the animal shelter’s logo was smiling much too brightly for a cold Saturday morning in February.

Still not sure he was making the right decision, Turner smiled back at the eager young man. “I’d like to adopt a dog.”

“Congratulations! Have you filled out an application, Mister…?”

“Maxwell, Turner Maxwell.” Brushing off the surprised look on the young man’s face, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the application he’d completed online. “I’ve got my application right here,” he said, passing it over the counter.

“Wow, an architecture professor at UMass sounds like a great job. I’m a student there, accounting major at night school. A friend of mine from Home Depot suggested I volunteer here. He says there’s no better love than dog love. Just don’t say that in front of our cats.”

Turner grinned. He liked the idea of a person kind enough not to offend cats. He’d always loved pets, but Bryce hated the idea of having an animal live in the house.

“Well, come with me, Professor Maxwell. I’ll introduce you to my coworker. He’s a dog genius.”

“Dog genius?” Turner asked skeptically.

Morgan laughed. “I know what you’re thinking.” He led Turner toward the door to the kennels. “But it’s true. After knowing a little bit about you, he’s able to pick out the perfect dog.”

“How’s that?”

“He knows all the dogs personally. Where they’re from, how they came to be here at the shelter and their unique personalities.”

“Personalities?” This all sounded a bit far-fetched. Did dogs have personalities?

“Right, if your house is loud, you don’t want a dog who’s scared of noise. You want an animal that fits your personality. Big C is the perfect guy to help find the right dog for you.” Morgan pushed through the door leading out to the kennels and motioned Turner to join him.

Turner was greeted with a cacophony of barks. Some barks were loud and others were high pitched. The most important thing was the kennel looked clean and the dogs he could see looked well cared for.

“Big C, got a new forever father for you,” Morgan called out over the excited barks.

“Just a sec,” a familiar sounding voice said.

No, it couldn’t be. He must be hearing things. Cannon and his contract had been on Turner’s mind so much that now he was hearing his voice where it couldn’t possibly be.

“Go say hi, Daisy,” the voice which sounded like Cannon Sommers, but couldn’t be, called out.

Turner heard nails clicking on the cement floor seconds before a Rottweiler ran toward him wearing a large white daisy on the back of her collar. The dog stopped just short of Turner and raised her right paw, doggie grin in full effect.

He must be dreaming. There was no way Turner was standing here in the kennel looking to adopt a dog, but the closer he got to the prospective doggie daddy, that tall, well-built body and handsome face were unmistakable. “She’s waiting to shake paws with you, Professor Maxwell,” Cannon said with an easy grin. “You’re not going to disappoint my best girl now, are you?”

“Oh,” Turner said, looking as stunned as he felt. He knelt down in front of Daisy and shook her outstretched paw.

Daisy responded by licking up the side of his face.

Turner laughed and reached out to rub her soft ears, not bothering to wipe away the doggie drool.

“Well, you passed two of the biggest tests, professor,” Cannon said with a smile.

“How’s that?” Turner asked, not taking his eyes off Daisy.

“You didn’t balk when Daisy ran toward you and you didn’t wipe off the dog drool.” Cannon motioned to the side of his face.

“What’s a little drool between friends? Huh, pretty girl?”

Daisy rolled onto her back and Turner rubbed her belly.

“Well, professor, I’ll leave you in Big C’s capable hands.” Dropping Cannon a wink, he walked back to the kennel door.

“Big C? Do I even want to know where that nickname came from?”

Cannon burst out laughing. Daisy scrambled up and went to Cannon who knelt to scrub her back with his hands. “There’s my princess,” he cooed while the dog licked his face and neck. “I’m from Dallas, The Big D, so Morgan calls me Big C.” Leaning closer to Turner, he dropped his voice, “The Big C you were thinking about also applies, as you already know.”

Turner opened his mouth and closed it quickly.

It was all Cannon could do to keep from surging forward the few inches separating them to kiss Turner. Knowing his professor had to make the first move, he dropped his eyes from the heated look Turner wore to play kissy face with Daisy.

Clearing his throat, Turner stood up. “Morgan says you’re some kind of dog whisperer with the superpower of matching dogs with forever families?”

“Guilty as charged, sir.” Cannon stood. “I know the perfect dog to fit your personality, but let me introduce you to some of the other animals first.”

“Sounds great. Lead on.” Turner was skeptical of Cannon’s talent, but he was excited to meet the other dogs.

Turner could honestly say this was the first time he’d ever seen Cannon perfectly at ease and relaxed. Gone was his fidgetiness and there was no sign of his smart mouth. “I thought you worked at Home Depot?”

“I do, but I’ve been volunteering here several hours a week since freshman year. Mom worked too much for us to have a dog so I figured this is a great way to give back and work with lots of animals.”

Cannon was full of surprises. He never would have pegged the annoying Cannon as someone who would give up a Saturday morning to volunteer in an animal shelter.

“This is FiFi,” Cannon introduced Turner to a teacup Yorkie who was yapping and twirling around in her kennel. “As you can see, Feef is full of energy which is why she’s here. Her owner said this pretty princess was too high maintenance, but we don’t believe her, do we FiFi?”

Daisy huffed beside him and stuck her nose into FiFi’s kennel. The smaller dog ran toward the door and did a happy dance.

Too high maintenance?
People were ridiculous. When you accept the responsibility of caring for another being, it should be for life. “Daisy seems good with other dogs,” he said absently.

“Daisy is the sweetest girl. She loves everyone, even cats.” Cannon grinned, leading Turner to the next kennel. “Next up is Belle, she’s a two year old greyhound. Her owner had to give her up when he was transferred to France for his job.”

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Turner murmured, bending down to pet the sleek white dog through the chain link door of her kennel. “Why do you call her Belle, when the sign says her name is Zippy?”

Cannon laughed. “Zippy is the worst dog name ever and this princess is too pretty for that name, aren’t you ma jolie fille?”

Turner laughed and rubbed Belle’s fur. She was a pretty girl and he wasn’t surprised Cannon’s French was perfect.

Cannon moved on to the next kennel. “This is Bones the bulldog. He’s only been with us for three weeks and is ready to adopt but he’s still recovering from the cruel treatment he suffered at the hands of his owner.” Cannon’s eyes burned with hate.

Turner looked from Cannon’s blazing eyes to the small dog back in the far corner of the kennel. Bones was making himself as small a target as possible. Turner’s heart broke for the poor animal. “Be strong, Bones,” Turner said softly. “People who hurt animals should be forced to endure the same treatment they gave the animal.”

“No arguments here.” Cannon moved to the next kennel and Daisy stayed behind with Bones.

Angling his thumb over his shoulder toward where Daisy sat guarding the bulldog, Turner whispered, “She really is a sweetheart. Do I even want to know her story?”

“All things considered, it’s not that bad. Her owner got himself a shiny new girlfriend who hates vicious dogs, so he dropped her off here with us.”

“What, the girlfriend?”

Cannon burst out laughing. A chorus of barking dogs joined him. “No, but the world would be a better place with people like
her
in a cage. The most vicious thing Daisy will do is lick you to death. Anyway, Daisy is a year old and weighs ninety-three pounds. She’ll weigh about one hundred twenty when she’s full-grown.”

“She’s perfect,” Turner sighed, knowing Daisy was just what he needed to liven up his quiet home and even quieter life.

“I know,” he smiled through the tears pricking his eyes. “I knew she was the perfect dog for you the minute you bent down to pet her.”

“Why are you crying, brat?” Turner inexplicably wanted to reach a hand out to the young man who obviously loved Daisy.

“Because she’s going to a good home.” Cannon brushed back a tear.

Giving a soft woof, Daisy left her spot with Bones and sat in front of Cannon who knelt down in front of her. “Good news, princess. You’re going home with your forever daddy.” He wrapped his arms around her to give her a hug. “I’ll have Morgan start the paperwork. Daisy, stay.”

Turner watched Cannon walk away until the sound of Daisy crying pulled his attention back to the dog. His dog. Sitting down on the cold concrete floor, Turner patted his lap. “Here, princess,” Turner cooed, whooshing out a surprised breath when ninety pounds of furry grief climbed into his lap and put her head on his shoulder. “Daddy loves you, honey,” Turner said, wrapping his arms around her back. “You miss him, huh?” He rubbed his face against Daisy’s, her nose wet on his cheek. “Don’t tell anyone, including the cats, but I do too.”

“Wow, do you two need another moment alone?” Morgan laughed.

“Daisy’s just missing the brat.” Cringing at calling Cannon that nickname out loud, he hurried to amend, “Cannon, I mean.”

Morgan wore a knowing smirk. “Makes perfect sense though, Cannon’s nuts about Daisy. He comes in to see her every day, even with his busy schedule, taking the bus back and forth between here, campus and Home Depot.”

“I knew he works at Home Depot. He’s mentioned it before. Doesn’t he have a car?”

Morgan shook his head. “Working at Home Depot is how I met him. His scholarship only covers so much of his tuition, so he uses his salary to pay for books and meals and necessities like razors and toothpaste.”

“And bus fare…” Turner said more to himself than to Morgan.

“Come with me and you can sign all the paperwork to take Daisy home with you.”

Cannon had not come back into the office to see Daisy off to her forever home. Not that Turner had expected him to. From what Morgan said, Daisy was his best friend, which broke Turner’s heart. There was a strict no pet policy in the dorms otherwise Turner was certain Cannon would’ve adopted Daisy on the dog’s first day at the shelter.

Why did such a fine, handsome, gregarious young man have so few friends? He could tell Morgan knew all about what had been going on between him and Cannon. The boy didn’t bat an eye when he called Cannon a brat.

He knew Cannon had been easily accepted into Ryder’s group of friends who all happened to be submissive boys of one type or another. It didn’t seem to be a coincidence Cannon fit in so well with them. Maybe it was a case of finally finding a square hole for his square peg.

Whatever the reason, it just added more information to the mental pro/con list he had been using to decide what to do about Cannon’s temporary contract offer, but that would have to wait for now, he had to take his new princess to PetSmart and spoil her rotten.