The Accidental Adoption Page 3
Now it was Rosie’s turn to laugh. “Fuck’s sake, this is ridiculous!” She turned around and set about making her coffee—picking up the kettle, pouring the now-boiling water into her mug, replacing the kettle, then adding the milk and stirring it. “Just get out, will you—I’m fed up of this stupid game, or whatever it is.” She spun to face him, holding the milk again, ready to return it to the fridge, and gestured at the door with her free hand. “Go on, get out.”
Sawyer sighed. “I can’t do that, Rosie.”
“Why not? It’s quite simple. Turn that key there, push the handle down, open the door, step through it. Walk away. Far away. Voila!”
He let out a deep growl of frustration which, despite its low volume, seemed to vibrate through Rosie’s entire body. “Rosie, this is not a dream. I know it sounds insane, but I’m telling you the truth. If I walk outside like this now I’ll be arrested within half an hour for indecent exposure!”
“You should have thought about that before you broke into my house in the buff. And think yourself lucky this isn’t real, because if it was I’d be screaming blue murder, throwing things at you and phoning the police.”
One corner of Sawyer’s shapely mouth quirked up, and a flicker of amusement appeared in his eyes. “All at once? You’re quite the multi-tasker.” Then, sobering again, he added, “But seriously, Rosie, this is real.”
“Then prove it. Prove to me that you are… what the hell did you call it? A weredog. So… the same as a werewolf, but you change into a dog, rather than a wolf.”
“In a nutshell. As for proof—okay, how about this? You first came into the shelter a month ago. You were chatting away to the various dogs there, telling them they were too big for your house, or that you could only home one—that kind of thing. Then you came to Scruffy’s kennel—although you didn’t know his name then—and you liked the look of him immediately. He liked the look of you, too. You poked your fingers through the bars and he licked them, and you chatted to him. But there was no information card next to his kennel. You went off to speak to a member of the rescue center’s staff to find out more about him. Then you came back and said goodbye to him before leaving. He didn’t see you again for another three and a half weeks. Then you took him home a few days after that. I know this because I am that dog.”
“That’s not proof,” she replied, but even as the words left her lips, she heard the lack of conviction behind them. Mainly because her memory had kicked in, and she’d remembered that there’d been no one else in the kennel area when she’d first visited, or when she’d gone back to say goodbye to Scruffy. So the only other person that could have known about what he’d just said was… “Hey, do you know Janice?” She narrowed her eyes as she awaited his response.
Sawyer shifted from foot to foot, still clinging tightly onto the mat around his waist. “Yes, but not in the way you think. She was there when the warden brought me—Scruffy—in to the rescue center. Janice is a nice, kind woman, and has a genuine love of animals. But she only knows me in my shifted form. If she saw me now, she wouldn’t recognize me.”
“If she saw you now, she’d probably have a heart attack. You’re bloody naked.”
Sawyer sniggered. “True. Speaking of which, any chance of getting me something to wear? Or maybe a towel or sheet I can replace this flipping bed with? It smells of dog fart—though I’ve only got myself to blame.”
“Already? It’s only been slept on once!” She clapped her free hand to her mouth to contain her mirth, then added, “Anyway, why would I give you something to wear? I’m having a dream—possibly the most insane one I’ve ever had—about an attractive, naked man in my kitchen. Why the hell would I give him clothes?”
Sawyer straightened, drawing himself up to his not-inconsiderable height, and took a step closer to Rosie. “Rosie—for heaven’s sake! This isn’t a fucking dream! When are you going to get that into your stubborn head?”
Refusing to back down, despite his physically imposing presence, she snapped, “When you show me some proper fucking proof!”
He drew his brows down, and his eyes darkened with irritation. “Fine. But just remember—you asked for it.”
With that, he let go of the bed which had been covering his modesty. It fell to the floor.
But Rosie barely had time to be shocked about seeing Sawyer’s full nakedness again. Because within just a few seconds, Sawyer had shrunk, grown hairier and dropped onto all fours. Then Sawyer was gone, and in his place, right in front of her, was Scruffy.
The dog barked and span excitedly in a circle, its tail wagging frantically.
Rosie dropped the milk.
Chapter Five
Rosie came to on the sofa. For a millisecond she wondered what the hell she was doing there—then she remembered. The disappearing dog. The naked man. The dream. Except… apparently it hadn’t been a dream.
She struggled to a sitting position. From there she had a line of sight into the kitchen. Back in human form, Sawyer was on hands and knees with his back to her—mercifully, he’d wrapped a sheet around his waist—cleaning up the spilt milk. It had been a carton, so there was no broken glass, but the impact with the hard floor must have split the packaging.
“Hey,” she called, “I’ll do that.”
Sawyer looked over his shoulder at her. He smiled. “Don’t be silly. I’m almost done now. Just stay there for a bit longer. You’ve had a big shock and I want to be sure there are no lasting effects from where you hit the floor. You might need to see a doctor.”
“I’m fine.”
“Please,” he insisted. “Stay put a little longer, just while I finish cleaning up this mess. I feel bad enough as it is, without there being permanent damage, or a concussion.” He returned to his task, effectively ending the conversation.
Rosie slumped back onto the cushions with a sigh. Actually, she did feel a little dizzy. But then who wouldn’t, having discovered that the adorable dog they’d adopted and had already started to love was actually a supernatural creature that they’d believed only existed in films and books?
She didn’t realize she’d slipped into a doze until movement beside her pulled her back into consciousness.
“Here.” Sawyer handed her a glass of water. “Drink that. Would you like me to make you another coffee? The original one is probably cold.” He started to get up, but she put her free hand on his arm.
“No, it’s all right. Don’t go anywhere. I…” She grimaced. “I have questions. Millions of the bloody things, rushing around my brain at a hundred miles an hour. I just can’t get my head around this.”
He gave a gentle shrug. “Understandable. It’s been traumatic for me, and I know what I am, so I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. So… ask away.”
“What?” She blinked, desperately trying to clear the foggy, confused feeling in her head. It was like a hangover. Except she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol. “Oh… right. Sorry. Um, I don’t know where to start.” She thought for a moment. “I guess at the beginning makes the most sense. What the hell were you doing in the shelter? Seems like the last place one of your… kind… would want to be.”
He smiled sadly. “You could say that. Trust me, it was a mistake ever getting found by that bloody warden. I know he was only doing his job, but I’ve never been so scared in my life. I just didn’t know what to do! Basically, he came across me as I was heading back home after a night running in my dog form. It had been a full moon and I was exhausted, which is the main reason the warden managed to grab me. Obviously I had no collar, no micro-chip,” unconsciously, he reached around to rub a spot between his shoulder blades, “and when he called and called, nobody replied. He searched around for anyone that might be my owner, but didn’t find anyone. So he assumed I was a stray and took me in. The worst part was I could see my own back fence from where he first came across me—I was so incredibly close to home! After that, turning back into my human form wasn’t an option. As you know, being faced with a naked man where you expected to see a dog is quite a shock.”
She nodded. He had that right. “Okay… so why didn’t you change back in the rescue center, when nobody was around?”
“Similar reasons. CCTV everywhere, and I had no way of knowing where the hard drive was, whether I’d be able to get to it and delete any recordings. Plus, the kennels were secure enough that I wouldn’t have been able to get out, anyway. I knew I was stuck until someone adopted me. I thought about running away when the vet checked me over, or when I was being walked in the grounds, but everyone was so careful—I just didn’t have the chance. Not without giving away my true nature.”
“Oh my God.” Rosie stared at Sawyer with wide eyes. “The vet! They gave you a health check—boosters, flea and worm treatments. Micro-chipped you. Poked and prodded you. Didn’t they suspect anything?”
“No reason to,” he responded with a shrug. “When I’ve shifted, for all intents and purposes, I am a dog. I’m just grateful they didn’t neuter me!”
Rosie spluttered out a laugh, then slapped a hand over her mouth for a second before taking it away. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hadn’t even thought about that! You sure got lucky there.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said darkly. “So, what else do you want to know?”
“What made you change back… um, whenever you changed back in my kitchen.”
“I’m not sure, but I suspect it was something to do with last night’s full moon, and having been stuck in dog form for so long. That doesn’t normally happen—random changing. The full moon tempts me to change, and go out for a run, but it isn’t like the films—I don’t have to. It doesn’t control me. I can transform whenever I like. When I woke up in human form this morning, I was as surprised as you.”
The memory flashed int
o Rosie’s head. “Yeah, you looked it.” She giggled.
Sawyer mirrored her smile. “Next question?”
“You up for some quick-fire?”
He nodded. “Go for it.”
“Born or turned?”
“Born.”
“Are there more of you?”
“Yes.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-five.”
She frowned. “Really?”
Sawyer raised his eyebrows—which, mercifully, were nowhere near as bushy as when he was in dog form. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I thought were… animals were all ancient.”
“You’ve been watching too many films and TV shows.” He rolled his eyes. “Remember: we live as human for the most part, and have normal human lives, houses, and jobs. We meet people, we marry, we have children. Sometimes those children are also weredogs. Sometimes they’re not.”
“Okay. That makes sense. I didn’t mean that you look older than thirty-five, by the way. Actually, you look younger.”
He grinned, and Rosie fought hard to ignore the pull of attraction that it set off deep inside her. “Thank you. Flattery will get you everywhere. Bed sheets are obviously a good look for me.”
At the mention of his attire, both their gazes were drawn to the sheet in question, and Rosie couldn’t help drinking the rest of him in on the way down. He really did have an incredible body. He looked incredible from head to toe, in fact, despite needing to be acquainted with a razor and some scissors. She was so distracted she didn’t even think to ask where he’d gotten the sheet from.
She shook herself as she realized where her thoughts were headed. Fucking hell, Rosie! Talk about inappropriate. You can’t lust over him—you just fucking adopted him, for Christ’s sake!
The sound of Sawyer clearing his throat made her snap out of her thoughts, and jerk her gaze back up to his face. His amused expression told her he knew exactly what she’d been looking at, and heat flared on her neck and face. “S-sorry. So, uh, are you from around here?”
“Still with the questions, eh?” he said good-naturedly.
“Afraid so. It isn’t every day you get to interrogate a weredog.”
“Touché. Yes, actually, I was born around here.” He named a village five or so miles away. “And I still live in the village. So do my parents. But not in the same house,” he added quickly. “Mine backs on to the woodland, which is why I bought it. Makes things easier when I do want to change.”
“You’re an only child?”
“For my sins.”
“What about your parents—do you all run together?”
He shook his head. “At their age, they change very rarely. Which, in a roundabout way, is how I ended up in this sticky situation to start with.”
“How so?” She took a sip of the water, hoping it would help to ease the fuzziness in her head. Though to be fair, having her questions answered was helping with that, too.
“Well, since they’re in very, very little danger of accidental transformations, and not changing for long periods of time doesn’t cause them any ill effects, they decided it was safe to head off on an around the world cruise. For four months. Which is why they’ve remained blissfully unaware of my situation. If they’d been home, they’d have noticed I was missing, for starters, and then they’d have claimed me from the rescue center when the call was put out.”
“Wow. So… you’ve been missing for a month and nobody noticed?” She winced as she realized how harsh her words sounded. “Sorry—I didn’t mean it like that.”
He gave her a wry grin. “I’m not saying nobody noticed, but other than Mum and Dad, I’m not close enough to anyone that they’d have registered me as a missing person. I last spoke with them—via email—the evening before I went out for my full moon run, so they might just be starting to wonder why I haven’t responded again. That is, if they’ve responded to me in the first place. They might be having too much fun to bother!” His laugh was humorless. “That’s nothing against my parents, by the way. I love them to pieces, and they love me. It’s just… it’s hit me now that I’ve been missing for a month, and there’s no one around that cares enough to query it. My neighbors probably think it’s a bit weird...”
“And work?”
“I’m freelance. I work from home. I’m an artist, and I’ve been working on a huge commission which, fortunately, isn’t due for weeks. So there might be the odd client that wonders why I’m so slow responding to their emails, but nobody will be panicking. I often let things slide a little when I’m ‘in the zone’.”
He looked so sad now that Rosie was determined to say something to cheer him up. To put that devastating smile back on his handsome face. “Well,” she said brightly, “you don’t need to worry about that anymore, do you? Because now you’ve got me! Give me your phone number, your email, your address, and you’ve got someone else to check up on you if anything like this ever happens again. Someone to care. I did sign a contract promising to look after you, remember? I’m your new mummy!”
A pained expression crossed Sawyer’s face. Apparently her words had had the opposite effect to the one she’d intended. “By God, and if that isn’t the most deeply disturbing fucking thing ever!”
Rosie narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you criticizing me? Christ, I know you—I mean Scruffy—was my first dog, but I thought I was doing a bloody good job. All new stuff, nice food, love, attention… you—I mean he—certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, anyway!” She huffed indignantly. “It’s not my fucking fault the most suitable dog in the shelter for my house and lifestyle turned out to be a shape shifter, is it? Ungrateful bastard. You’d still be in there if it wasn’t for me!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He put his hands up, then placed them firmly on her shoulders. “Bloody hell—calm down, would you? You got the wrong end of the stick there. What I meant was,” he made and maintained eye contact, the intensity in his gaze forcing her to pay attention, “it’s disturbing that you’re my—Scruffy’s—new mum. Because the feelings I’m developing for you, Rosie, are far from familial.”
Chapter Six
“Oh,” Rosie said. Then the meaning of Sawyer’s words truly sunk in. Bloody hell, her head really was fuzzy. “Oh!” Far from familial. He… he liked her. A gorgeous, single man liked her. If she ignored the fact that the man in question was also on occasion a dog, it was pretty spectacular news. They were still looking into each other’s eyes, but she’d lost focus for a moment. When she regained it, she clocked the questions, the vulnerability in Sawyer’s brown eyes and immediately wanted to make him feel better—again. But what could she say? She was attracted to him, sure—what red-blooded woman wouldn’t be?—but despite her barrage of questions, she didn’t know very much about him. She had a better idea of Scruffy’s personality than Sawyer’s. And that simply served to remind her just how messed up and confusing the situation was.
“Sorry.” Sawyer removed his hands from her shoulders and stood abruptly. “I shouldn’t have said that—it was inappropriate. Could I possibly trouble you for something that more closely resembles clothing? Then I can get out of your way.”
She looked up at him, still feeling dazed. Her gaze dropped from his face and drank in the sight of his body once more. Christ—what was wrong with her? She was smack-bang in the middle of an insane situation which was more suited to the pages of a novel than real life, and yet she was lusting over the very reason for the insanity. Perhaps she did have a concussion.
Sawyer took a step back, his expression wary. “If you just let me know where to look, I can get them myself…”
“No!” she said, startling even herself with her vehemence, and spilling water over herself in the process. It was only then she remembered she was wearing pajamas. She groaned. Could this get any worse? She had a smoking hot man in her living room, and she had bed head and had on her comfortable—and not remotely sexy—nightwear, dressing gown, and fluffy slippers. That he was wearing nothing but a bed sheet didn’t make her feel any better. He looked good in it, for heaven’s sake! But still, he’d asked for her help in locating something else to wear, so she should give it. It was the polite thing to do.