The Accidental Adoption Read online

  Janice smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re very thorough. Right—shall we get all the boring paperwork over and done with? Then we can go and collect Scruffy.”

  “Yes, absolutely,” Rosie said with a nod. “I’m so excited—I can’t wait to get him home.” So much for not coming across as overexcited.

  “Come on, then. I’ve got all the forms ready for you.” Janice led Rosie over to the reception desk. “There you go. Have a thorough read through—remember, it is a legally binding contract—and let me know if you have any questions. If not, go ahead and fill in the relevant parts and then sign it.”

  “Okay, thank you.” Rosie concentrated on reading the contract properly, then, satisfied, she filled it in, signed it and handed it back to Janice. “There you go.”

  “Great. And how would you like to pay the adoption fee?”

  “On my card.”

  “No problem.” Janice retrieved a card reading terminal from behind the desk, pressed a few buttons, then handed it to Rosie. “You know the drill.” She gave a chuckle. “Crikey. Between this, the shopping trip and pet insurance, your bank balance has taken a bit of a battering this week!”

  Rosie shrugged and followed the prompts on the machine and made her payment. “Doesn’t matter to me. He’s worth every penny.”

  The other woman’s eyes gleamed with emotion for a moment, but then she quickly snapped back into professional mode. She cleared her throat and took the device back from Rosie. “Yes, dogs certainly are amazing creatures, and great companions. I think you and Scruffy are going to be very happy together.”

  Beaming, Rosie replied, “Me too. And hey, with all the time I’ll spend walking him, I might even lose some weight!”

  Janice looked Rosie up and down, then rolled her eyes. “You’ve got a beautiful figure, sweetheart, so you don’t need to lose a pound. But getting out into the countryside with a dog is always a joy. When the weather’s kind, of course. This is England.”

  The two women chuckled, then Janice tore off the receipt the card machine had spit out and passed it to Rosie. “There you go, that’s yours. I’ll just double check the contract, make a copy for your records, give you your other paperwork, then we’ll go and grab your boy!”

  Rosie nodded. “No problem.” While she waited, she wandered over to a bunch of shelving units to one side of the reception area, which held various things to buy for pets. Mainly dogs and cats, but also rabbits, guinea pigs, birds, and goldfish. Her gaze landed on a cute wooden sign which said I Love My Dog. She grinned. How could she possibly resist that? Picking it up, she took it over to the counter where Janice appeared to be finishing up. “I’ll take this, too, please.”

  Smiling, Janice said, “Seems fitting already. I’ll ring that up for you in a second, but before I do, I just want to let you know what’s in this pack.” She held up a plastic folder. “It’s a photocopy of your contract, as well as all of Scruffy’s vital information. Obviously we’ve had to do some guesswork with his age and breed, but you’ll need all the details for the insurer you go with, for the micro-chip registration, and also to get him registered with a vet. Unless he gets ill or has an accident, he’s good for about eleven months now, since our vet gave him his boosters, but it wouldn’t hurt to look for a suitable vet that’s local to you and get him on their system. There’s also some basic information in there about caring for a dog. We’ve also given him flea and worming treatments—the dates are in the pack, so you can calculate when he next needs dosing to keep him protected and healthy. You can take him to a vet for those, if you like, but to be honest the vet said he was no trouble so you should be able to do it yourself at home. It’ll be a damn sight cheaper, too, but don’t tell the vets I said that.” She winked. “Okay, so I think that’s everything. I don’t want to keep bombarding you with information, but it is all in the pack, so if you forget something I said, don’t worry. And if you’re still not sure after reading the info, just give us a call. Do you have any questions for me?”

  “Yes,” Rosie said, grinning widely. “Can we go and get my dog now?”

  Janice winked again. “Once you’ve paid for this, we can.” She put the sign through the till, and handed the card reader to Rosie, who went through the procedure all over again, then passed the machine back.

  Thanking Janice, she popped her purse, the plastic folder and the sign in her handbag, then retrieved the collar and lead. “Okay—ready when you are.”

  “One sec.” The other woman went to a door behind the reception desk and opened it. “Elijah?” she yelled. “Can you come and cover Reception, please? I’m just taking Scruffy’s new mum to go and collect him.”

  “Yep—on my way!” came the reply.

  “Thanks!” She turned to Rosie. “Let’s go, then.”

  As they headed out of the door and in the direction of the kennels, she added, “I’m really glad you decided to keep the name Scruffy, you know. It might only have been a nickname when he first came in, but I think it really suits him. And he seems to like it, too!”

  Rosie nodded, her heart warming at the thought she was Scruffy’s new mum. How amazing was that? “Yeah, he does. That’s a big part of the reason I decided to keep it. You know the phrase ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’—that definitely applies here.”

  A cacophony of noise began as they entered the kennel area—the inhabitants were clearly hoping for food, fuss, or new owners. Maybe even all three. It still plucked at Rosie’s heartstrings to walk past all the dogs she couldn’t help, but she concentrated on the good feeling she had about giving Scruffy a forever home. She’d wanted a dog for a very long time, and now she had one. And he was the cutest.

  The two women approached Scruffy’s enclosure. He had already spotted them and, as was apparently the norm for him, his tail was wagging so fast it was a blur. He panted excitedly as they grew closer still and it became obvious they were going into his kennel, then span in a circle.

  Rosie laughed. “Wonder if he does that a lot? It’s very funny.”

  “He’s very funny,” Janice responded. “He really is quite the character. You’re going to have such a great time together.”

  As the door opened and the two women entered the kennel, Scruffy bounded up to them. He gave Janice a quick sniff, then turned his attention to Rosie. Now his tail wagged so hard it made his entire back end wiggle. Rosie laughed again and shook her head. “You’re right there, Janice. Come on, Scruffy!” She crouched down and immediately ended up with a face full of excitable canine as he put his front paws on her legs and stretched up to lick any bit of exposed skin he could reach. “Oh, Scruffy!” she said, playfully fending him off and setting his front paws back on the ground. “At least buy a girl dinner first, eh?”

  He barked, then turned another of his manic circles.

  “Hmm, I don’t know if that was a yes or a no. Anyway, boy, are you ready to come home with me?” She held up the lead and collar. “Shall we put these on you? Then we’ll have a nice little ride in the car and get you settled in at your new house.”

  Scruffy moved closer again, then sat down right in front of her. Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Huh, fair enough. Guess that is a yes.” She made quick work of putting on the dog’s new collar, followed by the lead. “You ready, Scruffy?”

  A wag of the tail and a lolling tongue.

  Rosie turned to Janice. “Well, that’s it, then. We’re off.” The two women exchanged smiles, then hugged. “Thank you so much for all your help. I don’t know, and will probably never know, what Scruffy’s back story is, but he’s sure going to have a happy life going forward. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Janice replied. “Now get going, before I change my mind and keep him for myself!” She bent down and gave Scruffy a scratch behind the ears. “You be good for your mum, you hear?” The dog licked her hand and made a little friendly growling sound. She smiled and shook her head. “Sometimes it’s like they understand what you’re sa
ying, isn’t it? No wonder they call me the crazy dog lady.”

  “Guess I’m one of those now, aren’t I?” Rosie said, beaming. “I’ll be having full-on conversations with him in no time, I expect—probably before we get home.”

  “He’ll love it.”

  “So will I.”

  With that, Rosie turned and led Scruffy out of the kennels and to her car, where she settled him onto the blanket on the back seat, then clipped his collar to the doggy seatbelt she’d fitted earlier. She ruffled his ears, to his obvious delight. “Come on, let’s go home.”

  Chapter Three

  Rosie groaned as the sound of the alarm clock pulled her out of a blissful night’s sleep. She wasn’t a morning person—never had been. Rolling over onto her back, she sighed. Then a slow grin spread over her face as her brain kicked into gear and she remembered two very exciting things: she didn’t have to go to work today and, even better, she had a dog!

  She and Scruffy had had an amazing day together after she’d brought him home. He’d been fine in the car—no fidgeting or distracting her from driving, and he didn’t appear to be car sick, which was great. Then he’d taken to her house incredibly well. After a thorough exploration and lots of sniffing, he’d followed her out into the garden where he’d done his business before she’d even prompted him. To reward him, she’d given him some doggy biscuits which he’d munched on with relish. Then she got on with some chores, figuring she’d leave him to his own devices for a while, let him settle in at his own pace. Plus, being too close to him all the time probably wouldn’t do either of them any favors when she had to return to work in a few days.

  The hours had gone by with no incident, and she’d taken him for a long walk around the village to get him acquainted with the area and with the locals—human, canine, and otherwise. Other than showing a great deal of interest in the ginger tabby from the next street, all went without a hitch, so she took him to the field where she let him off the lead. Her heart pounded the entire time—what if he didn’t come back?—but she knew she had to do it at some point to find out if he’d come when she called him, so she wanted to get it over and done with.

  Much to her relief, he did come, and that was before he knew biscuity rewards were part of the deal.

  Scruffy’s enthusiasm knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing catch with a tennis ball, and they were both pretty tired by the time they settled down in the living room to relax for the evening. She’d glanced at him fondly every now and again, particularly when he’d begun snoring. Clearly her choice of TV show wasn’t doing it for him.

  When it had been time for bed, Scruffy had obediently gone outside to relieve himself, before returning and heading straight to his nice new mat in the kitchen. He’d gotten praise, fuss, and a couple more treats before she’d closed the door and gone upstairs to her own bed. She’d known that having an older dog—they’d estimated Scruffy to be around six or seven—would be a hell of a lot easier than getting a puppy, but she hadn’t expected Scruffy’s first day with her to be quite so event-free.

  Deciding not to tempt fate by continuing with that thought process, she’d gotten cleaned up, changed into her pajamas, and read in bed for a bit before going to sleep.

  And now it was time to go and discover how his first night in a new house had gone. She hoped he hadn’t had an accident. Doubtful—but that’s why she’d put his bed in the kitchen, so at least if he had, the floor was wipe-clean.

  She got out of bed, put on her slippers and dressing gown, then made a visit to the bathroom before tentatively making her way downstairs. As she reached the door to the kitchen, she mentally crossed her fingers. She was surprised, actually, that she couldn’t hear him moving around in there. Perhaps he was a heavy sleeper and hadn’t heard her get up or come down the stairs. Frowning, she opened the door, her gaze immediately drawn to the area where she’d placed his bed the day before.

  She gasped as her eyes fed images to her brain. Images that could not possibly be accurate. She closed her eyes, shook her head, then opened them again. Immediately, she came to the conclusion that she was dreaming. That had to be it—the only explanation. Because if she wasn’t dreaming, she was going completely and utterly insane, since what her eyes were telling her was that instead of there being a cute but adorably scruffy dog asleep in her kitchen, there was a man. A naked, hairy, disheveled-looking man, but a man nonetheless.

  He was lying on Scruffy’s bed. Or at least most of him was. He was obviously much larger than the dog in question, and only the middle parts of his body fit on the mat—his arms, legs, head, and shoulders sprawled off the pad, encroaching on her kitchen floor.

  Rosie stood silently in the doorway, mouth agape, her brain still steadfastly refusing to believe what her eyes were insisting was true.

  There wasn’t a man lying on her dog’s bed. There couldn’t be. It just didn’t make any sense. If it was true, then how did he get in without her hearing him? Without Scruffy hearing him? And ignoring that part for a moment, why had he broken in? And why the hell was he naked and asleep on Scruffy’s bed? For that matter, where was Scruffy?

  None of it made any sense—but then her dreams rarely did. Shaking her head, she stepped over the threshold and into the kitchen, turning her attention to the kettle. More specifically, coffee. Dreaming or not, coffee was always a good idea.

  Rosie moved up to the work surface, switched on the kettle, then grabbed a mug. She spooned in some coffee and sugar before going over to the fridge to retrieve the milk. From the corner of her eye she saw the man was still there. What’s more, it looked as though he was waking up. She turned to face him properly and watched as the muscles of his shoulders, back and buttocks flexed as he stretched out, accompanied by a languid groan.

  He rolled over onto his back, his eyes still closed, and yawned. Then he frowned and reached out to touch the cold, hard surface beneath him. Everything happened very quickly then—so quickly that Rosie could barely follow.

  The man jerked his hand back, opened his eyes and sat up. He focused on her, his frown deepening.

  Still disbelieving, Rosie stared back. And, even though this was a complete fabrication from the depths of her unconscious mind, she fought the temptation to allow her gaze to slip from his face and go lower, much lower…

  It was only because of that determination that she witnessed the man’s expression changing from confusion to realization. He looked down, then snatched his hands in to cover his crotch before looking back at her. “Um, hi Rosie.”

  Rosie, figuring that since none of this was real, she may as well play along, replied, “Hi, whoever you are. Care to explain what the hell you’re doing naked in my kitchen? Also, how do you know my name? And what the fuck did you do with my dog?”

  Chapter Four

  The only sound for almost a minute was that of the kettle bubbling away behind her.

  Rosie grew tired of waiting for a response. She’d never gotten irritated in a dream before—at least not that she could remember—but she raised her eyebrows pointedly and said, “Well?”

  “Um…” The man gave her a sheepish look, then glanced over at the mat he’d been sleeping on. “Hang on.” He carefully rearranged his hands so just one covered his crown jewels, then reached for the mat. He dragged it over his lap, then, now quite modestly covered, stood up and wrapped it around his waist. It was hardly a fashion statement, and Rosie couldn’t help thinking about the hygiene factor of having a dog’s bed against your most private parts, but at least she felt slightly more comfortable. She was also grateful that her kitchen was on the back of the house because anyone that happened to look in the window would get quite a view.

  Holding tight to his makeshift skirt, the man said, “Uhh…” He scrunched up his face, looked at her, then swept his gaze away to focus on the floor.

  Rosie was just about to prompt him again when an inkling seeped into her brain. There’s something familiar about him. That unkempt appearance, those soul
ful brown eyes… who did he remind her of?

  The man seemed to struggle with it, but finally met her eyes again. “M-my name is Sawyer. All three of those questions can be answered by one explanation, but unfortunately I don’t think you’ll believe a word of it.”

  Rosie rolled her eyes. “I left believability behind the minute I entered this room. And since this is all just a nutty dream anyway, why not just spit it out and be done with it?”

  “A dream? You think this is a dream?” His expression turned incredulous and he spluttered out a laugh, which made his eyes crinkle at the corners and caused a tug low in Rosie’s abdomen. “Well, that certainly explains why you’re relatively calm about this whole situation.” He blew out a heavy breath, his expression serious now. “I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, Rosie, but this isn’t a dream. It’s perfectly real. And the reason I’m naked in your kitchen is because… actually, do you want to sit down? This might be hard to take.”

  “Just get on with it,” she snapped. She was really starting to lose her temper now. God—if her brain saw fit to put a naked, attractive man into her dreamscape, why couldn’t they be doing something more fun than having a weird conversation in her kitchen?

  “All right, all right,” he shot back, his eyes wide and hurt. “It’s because… I’m Scruffy.”

  Rosie frowned, then looked him up and down, paying particular attention to his overlong dark hair and beard. “Yes, I can see that, but what I fail to see is how it explains anything.”

  “What?” Sawyer looked as confused as she felt. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then realization dawned on his face once more. “Oh… I get it. Right. Gotcha.” He hitched the mat up a little higher, which only served to remind her of his nudity, and just how sexy his body was. “What I mean is, I’m Scruffy the dog. I’m a weredog. Meaning I’m both man and dog, and can change between the two forms.”