4

“Is that when Boots got out?” Taking pity on the man, Ward went to grab them each a mug—finding them on his first try—and poured them each a cup of coffee. The mess seemed contained to below the counter. Everything else was in perfect order. “Sugar?”

“Right here.” Miguel hurried across the kitchen, pulling out a bag of sugar and a fancy little dish. He poured the sugar into the dish, setting it in front of Ward. Then he grabbed the cream out of the fridge. “Sorry, I’m not usually this disorganized. I know there’s a creamer somewhere—”

“I can take my creamer straight out of the bottle, it’s fine. I was asking if you took sugar.” Damn it, why did the man have to be so fucking adorable, all flustered and eager to please? And he sounded like he’d had a hell of a night. “Sit down, I’ll finish fixing these up. Just tell me what you like.”

Careful, Neuman.

He hadn’t meant the question to sound flirty, but he wanted to see the man relax a bit.

Thankfully, Miguel slumped onto a stool in front of the island, as if too worn out to either make anything of his words, or protest. “Half a teaspoon of sugar and a splash of cream. Thank you.”

Bringing both mugs to the island, Ward took the stool next to Miguel’s. “My pleasure.”

Miguel’s brow arched slightly at that, but he simply took a small sip of coffee. Then let out a soft sound that sent a caress of heat along Ward’s spine. “I needed this. Will probably keep me up half the night, but I have studying to do anyway.”

“Sounds like you’re a busy man.” Ward should just finish up his coffee and get out of there, but he was curious about the man. That was it. He didn’t notice the way the fabric of his wet, white dress shirt clung to his skin, practically transparent, showing off every lean line of muscle. How expressive his face was, as though he couldn’t hide a single emotion.

How nicely his neatly trimmed beard framed those soft lips.

Which curved into a shy smile as he met Ward’s eyes. “I am, but I still should’ve been more careful. One of the boys could’ve gotten out that window with Boots. Or the puppy could’ve gotten hurt.” His smile faded. “Fuck, I don’t remember opening the window and none of the staff would since it’s getting colder out.”

“Do you have child-safety locks on them?”

Miguel’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to check. My sister, Nina, would’ve been on top of everything.” His voice caught and he lowered his gaze. “Mom’s usually good with stuff like that, but when she started getting sick…” He shook his head and took another sip of coffee. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear all this personal stuff. The point is, I’m so fucking grateful you found Boots.”

“I’m happy I could help.” Ward cocked his head. “And I’m sorry to hear about your sister.”

“Nina died days after they were born. I miss her, but it’s been a long time. I was in university until recently, but my mother took ill and I needed to be here. For her and for them.” Miguel’s lips quirked slightly. “I’m still getting the hang of it.”

“Three puppies must make things more difficult?”

“Sometimes? I need to start them on training as soon as possible. That’ll help. They’re housebroken, but that’s about it.” He took a deep breath. “And I need to look into better childproofing the house. But I’ve got this.”

Damn it, Ward couldn’t help like the way the man gave himself his own little pep talks. And how he carefully assessed the situation, admitting where he’d gone wrong. He was a little all over the place, but Ward kinda enjoyed the way Miguel thought out loud, while still engaging in conversation, truly listening as so few did these days.

It was refreshing.

And made Ward feel as though he could be part of the solution. He hesitated, but couldn’t resist making the offer. “I train dogs for a living if you need someone. Usually service dogs, but I could spare a few hours a week to teach the puppies basic commands if you’d like.”

“I appreciate that, but the trainer would have to work with the boys as well so they can learn how to be good owners too. As you’ve noticed, they’re a handful.” Miguel met his eyes, his tone more alluring than it should be. “I get how helpless I seem, but I’ve already started managing my sister’s company part-time. I know how to hire—and fire—employees as needed.”

“Is that so?” All right, Ward liked the guy, but he wasn’t a fan of whatever the fuck he was doing now. He didn’t look to be much past his early twenties and he was running a business. Good for him. They were talking about the puppies. One of which had almost gotten run over. “Well, I wish you the best. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to check references and training licenses. Or how few trainers will want to work with children that young. Or have the experience to do so.”

“No. You don’t.” Miguel’s tone had taken on a sharp edge. His jaw hardened. “I’m sorry if I offended you, but I don’t need charity.”

With a stiff smile, Ward pushed off the stool. “Nothing is more obvious. Not that charity is a bad thing, but I doubt you understand that unless it includes a tax break.”

Miguel’s lips parted. He stared at Ward. “I think I should see you out.”

“Don’t bother. I know the way.” Fuck, he was pissed, but he still couldn’t help picturing poor little Boots, quivering in the middle of the road. How excited those little boys had been to see him—even though they’d gone wild immediately after. Miguel’s confidence was good, but his arrogance? Not so much.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet, grabbed one of his business cards, and slapped it on the marble island.

“If you get over yourself, call me or send me a text. I can give you some recommendations.” He turned his back on the young man, tossing his final words over his shoulder. “Good luck.”

He wasn’t sure what irritated him more. That he’d offered to train the puppies and been shot down because Miguel could apparently find someone better.

Or because, for a brief moment, he’d wanted to see the man again.