Breaking Free (12 page)

She'd bought food, a leash, some bones, and toys in town with Daniel, but she wanted a few personalized items, as well.

"So…I couldn’t help but notice something," Brooklyn said.

"Oh?" Sophie didn’t look up from her phone. She was highly focused on which dog tag she'd get for her new friend's collar.

It was difficult when she didn’t know what she was getting, but she'd refrained from any kind of "special requests." It didn’t matter to her, so Daniel was picking up a lady at the shelter—one that was affiliated with Asher's organization—and she was bringing the dog that needed a new home the most. Regardless of gender, breed, age, and background.

"Yeah." Brooklyn shifted in her seat to face Sophie more, and she opened a bottle of water. "Your shirt."

Sophie glanced down at the Michigan T-shirt she'd put on again after her shower. "Uh-huh." She stifled a grin.

"Oh, you suck, Pierce." Brooklyn threw the bottle cap at her.

Sophie laughed and dodged the flying object. She was about to hand back a wisecrack, but that was when a car rolled in at the end of the row of trailers.

"Finally!" Sophie was out of her chair in a heartbeat. Tennyson's T-shirt was more of a dress than a shirt, so she tucked the front into her denim shorts a little, and then she was off.

A pretty woman in her mid-forties stepped out of the car and waited for Daniel to open the back.

"You look positively giddy, darling," Daniel told Sophie with a smirk.

"I am!" She grinned and then turned to the woman. "Hi, I'm Sophie Pierce. It's so nice to meet you."

She smiled politely in return and shook Sophie's hand. "Jordan Sitwell." Wearing a pantsuit and a flawless up-do, she didn’t really look like she worked at an animal shelter, but what did Sophie know? "Nice to meet you, too."

That didn’t feel very genuine, but Sophie brushed it off and walked closer to the back where Daniel let a big dog jump out. She couldn’t help but notice how quickly Daniel moved out of the way.

"Oh my God." Sophie melted. Squatting down in front of the Rottweiler, she let it sniff her hand and got a lick of approval.

"That’s not the greeting I got," Daniel muttered.

"Yes, this is Max," Jordan said, busy getting paperwork from the car.

"Hi, Max," Sophie cooed. Her heart broke at the sight of the old scar that slashed across his right eye, but he was still the most precious creature she'd ever laid eyes on. His black coat shone in the sun, and he seemed to like it when Sophie scratched him behind his ears.

"These are rather, uh, unconventional circumstances…" Jordan cleared her throat and glanced around herself, taking in the movie set and all the trailers. "I was told you guys went directly through Asher Wright for this adoption…?"

Daniel took over there. "I've spoken to him, yeah. Sophie filed all the papers he faxed over, and then he got in contact with the shelter."

Jordan nodded firmly. "I see. The only things left are signing over ownership and your signature on Max's veterinary records."

"Can you tell me a little about him?" Sophie asked without getting up from the ground. "Knowing Mr. Wright's organization, are there any triggers I should be aware of? Anything I can do to make Max more comfortable?" Truth be told, she was irritated with Jordan's approach. This wasn’t a damn business deal; it was about a dog's life.

Jordan stared blankly before forcing a smile. "I apologize. It's my sister's shelter; I'm merely helping her because there are too many pets than she can care for alone." She paused. "Max is around six years old, and he's from the States—Texas. A man brought him into one of Asher Wright's shelters—said he'd saved the dog from an abusive owner." She flipped open a file. "Teeth marks from other dogs, cigarette burns, malnourishment, and old fractures are a few of the things we have on record from his first exam. Fight for Fighters gained ownership after the investigation was concluded."

"My poor baby." Sophie hugged the gentle beast close. "I'll take care of you, I swear. I might fuck up, but you'll always be safe and loved."

"How long ago was this?" Daniel murmured.

Jordan went through her papers again. "Two years ago. He's been adopted twice during that time—latest by a family here in British Columbia—but he's always ended up back at the shelter."

"Why?" Sophie asked.

"Max is close to blind, though the main reason he gets returned is because of trust issues toward men. Presumably mental scars left from his first owner."

Sophie nodded and faced Max, petting him softly. "Let me sign those papers now. Daniel, you can handle the rest, right? I'd like to introduce Max to his new home." Temporary as it was.

"I'll ask all the questions," Daniel assured her with a wink.

Chapter 15

Tennyson was just about to text Sophie that lunch had arrived when he saw Brooklyn and Steph petting a Rottweiler some twenty yards away. Sophie was there too, so Tennyson left his salmon burrito and the picnic tables behind to go see what was going on.

"I didn’t know we needed more security around here." Tennyson smiled as he reached them. He noted—with more than a little satisfaction—that Sophie was still wearing his T-shirt.

"Oh, hey!" Sophie grinned, though it faded slightly. "Um, be careful. Max isn't crazy about men. He growled at Daniel when we were in my trailer."

Tennyson quirked a brow. "So who is this Max?" He glanced down at the dog, who was obviously enjoying the attention he was getting from the ladies. Then Tennyson sobered when he saw the scar over the dog's eye.

It never ceased to infuriate him how cruel people could be.

"He's my boy." Sophie squatted down and kissed the side of Max's head. "I just adopted him like, two hours ago."

That…what…huh?

Tennyson couldn’t even begin to process that.

"I don’t know what to say," he admitted.

"That’s okay," Sophie chuckled. "Neither did Daniel when I first told him I wanted a pet."

That seemed like a good place to start. "And when was that?" He took a step closer as Brooklyn and Steph excused themselves to get lunch.

"After we did that Wild painting and I learned about your brother's organization. I actually had Asher's help with the adoption."

Yeah, Tennyson was still speechless.

His own
brother
had helped Sophie?

"You've had dogs that came from abusive homes," Sophie mentioned. "I've ordered a couple books on how to deal with Max's fear of men, but if you have any advice, that would be cool."

Tennyson shook his head, dazed. "Uh, well. You take it slowly." He racked his brain; he knew this and had gone through similar situations many times, but his brain was perhaps not his best friend at the moment. "You let the dog see whichever man you introduce him to is a good person. His fear might be for himself, but he's most likely also a protector. If he senses you're safe, he'll feel better."

"He's almost blind. He can't see much." Sophie bit her lip. "How can I make him understand I trust you, for instance?"

Tennyson smiled automatically, his gaze flicking between her and the dog. "We could work on it tonight. Would you like me to bring you your lunch, or are you coming?"

"Can we eat at the table outside my trailer?" Sophie looked up at him, hopeful. "I don’t wanna overwhelm Max."

"Of course," he murmured. "You two go—I'll join you in a bit."

On the way back to the picnic tables, he pulled out his phone and sent a text.

You, Sophie, dog adoption. What the fuck? Tell me everything, Ash.

*

An hour of Sophie's cute rambling shed light on the texts Tennyson had forgotten he'd received from his brother a few days ago.

"You'll never believe who just called me…"

It was Daniel. Daniel had contacted Ash on Sophie's behalf, and Ash had handled everything personally.

Throughout lunch with Sophie, Tennyson had gotten more answers from Ash himself. He'd texted the details, and Tennyson tried and failed not to get infuriated by the fact that Asher had gone on to the organization's website and handpicked Max because he would've been put to sleep soon—if Sophie hadn't adopted him.

In other words, Asher had only allowed Sophie to adopt a dog that was on the proverbial death row. Death…or being taken in by Sophie Pierce—that was how Ash saw it.

It sickened Tennyson that people in general didn’t think highly of Sophie, and it sickened him even more to admit he would've understood his brother's decision just a month ago.

He knew better now, though. He knew what a wonderful girl Sophie was, how hard she worked, and how big her heart was. While she could be naïve and inexperienced in many ways, Tennyson had no doubt she would rise to the occasion.

Mere hours had passed since the adoption and Max already adored her. He slept peacefully by her feet.

"I wanna find a condo when I get home," Sophie went on, dreams and plans spilling out. "And it has to be close to the beach so I can take Max there. We can go running together in the mornings."

Tennyson had a phone conference with the studio coming up, but he sent his PA a text, requesting to postpone it. For the first time, Sophie was speaking openly about her future, and Tennyson wanted to hear it.

Even as a headache set in, Tennyson stayed in his seat, the early afternoon sun beating down on them.

"Oh! I should bring out his water bowl. I'll be right back."

While Sophie ducked inside the trailer, Tennyson sent his brother a reply.

Don’t underestimate Sophie. She will be great for Max.

Max would be great for Sophie, as well.

"Idiot," Tennyson sighed, reading Asher's response.

And if she's not, at least Max's life has been extended until she gets bored. I'm still shocked she didn’t request a Chihuahua. But back to work for me, big brother. I have dailies to watch, so quit bothering me.

Tennyson wished he could be there to see everyone's reaction to Sophie's performance in her big scene.

*

That night, Tennyson got a taste of Max's fear and protectiveness. After spending all day either in the office or on the new set, he was tired and ready to hit the sack with Sophie in his arms. But that would have to wait. Because when he approached the trailer and saw Sophie sitting in her dining nook with the window open, he not only alerted her to his presence with his hello, but also Max. Who hated men.

"Is it really safe to let you in?" Sophie asked carefully.

"It's okay. Can you tie Max to the foot of your bed? On the floor, I mean." It was the only thing he could think of that was solid enough, and he didn’t want to risk a full-blown attack. Rottweilers were all muscle, and they were very bright.

"Okay, um, just a sec." Sophie disappeared out of sight and then returned with Max's leash. With that attached to his collar, she brought Max to the bedroom and tied him down.

Max's growling commenced as Sophie let Tennyson in.

"He's a beauty." Tennyson grinned faintly at the Rottie straining to get closer to protect Sophie. Teeth bared, every ounce of pure strength ready to attack. But Tennyson wasn’t intimidated. It was approximately a hundred scars too late for intimidation. Tennyson's marks had faded—most of them, anyway—but if one looked closely, his past with dogs was written all over his arms and legs.

"How're you not shaking in fear?" Sophie wondered. "Daniel refuses to come by anymore." She huffed. "If I hadn't stopped him, he would've booked an earlier flight for tomorrow."

Tennyson chuckled and slid off his shades and ball cap, wanting Max to get to know his features. Sophie had said Max could make out shapes and moving objects, and that was enough.

"Don’t worry. By the time Daniel comes back after the holiday, Max will be better." Habits and wariness took more work, but he didn’t expect it to take much effort to calm Max down to the point where he didn’t feel the need to strike. "Let's go in and sit on the bed." He grabbed Sophie's hand and let her walk ahead. "I'll sit down first. You release him and get on my lap. It'll prevent him from attacking."

"If you're sure…"

Tennyson didn’t acknowledge Max's growling getting louder. He merely sat down on the bed and scooted farther in, settling sideways and leaning back against the wall.

"How old did you say he was?" Tennyson watched as Sophie patted Max on the head and removed the leash.

"Six." Sophie quickly jumped up on the bed and onto Tennyson's lap, and Max followed but stopped near the edge. He continued growling, though it was quieter now. "Now what?"

"Now you kiss me." Tennyson smirked.

"I—what?" She looked at him in disbelief.

"I said…now you kiss me." He gently shifted her so she sat sideways across his lap. "His trust in me comes through you."

Sophie wasn’t comfortable at first, her movements shaky and jerky, but Tennyson was in no rush. He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her slowly, coaxing the tip of her tongue out with his. His other hand stroked her thigh soothingly, encouraging her to eventually relax.

"See?" he murmured between soft pecks. "When you're at ease, so is he. If you accept me as a part of your space, so will he."

"Oh," she whispered. Her cheeks were adorably flushed, her green-blue eyes a shade darker. "It's that easy?"

"No, but it's a start." He kissed her again, fucking needing it. "Give it a few weeks, and he and I will be buddies."

That was a sobering thought, though. A few weeks was all they had, and the silence that stretched on told him Sophie knew it, too. She averted her eyes, and Tennyson frowned, wondering what the hell was going on with him. This
couldn’t
be real.

This weekend would put them to a test, he feared. His mother was disturbingly observant, and he wasn’t sure he could keep a respectable distance from Sophie the entire weekend.

He couldn’t use the PR stunt as an excuse, seeing as there would be no reporters around.

Mom had found out about the fake relationship, and while she wasn’t thrilled her eldest was associating with a young socialite whose reputation was far from good, she understood enough about Hollywood. These things happened.

The Fourth of July hadn't been a major holiday for the Wrights since Tennyson and Asher were kids, so the date had sort of snuck up on him. Now he wished the weekend was no different from any other.

"Tennyson?" Sophie said quietly, never peering up. "I accept you in my space."

Tennyson opened his mouth, only to close it again. Not knowing how to interpret that, he watched silently while Sophie reached over to pat Max on the head. The beautiful Rottie was lying down now, quiet, not entirely relaxed, but not hostile. He was merely staring back at them. Observing.

It would take time before Max accepted men in general, but anyone who said you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks didn’t know what they were talking about.

"I don’t know if that’s a dirty pun," Tennyson replied, "or the sweetest thing I've ever heard."

Sophie giggled and popped a quick kiss to his chin. "Maybe a bit of both."