Author's note: Caroline's clever dog possesses a special skillset. She had no idea he'd have to use it on the surprisingly charming asshat down the street.
"I've seen a look in dogs' eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts."
― John Steinbeck
The father of English literature had just finished peeing on Pop Country Karaoke at 2 AM's mailbox and Caroline rewarded him with his favorite organic apple and duck bacon treat. "Good boy, Chaucer. Now, let's go visit Hedge Fascist and Duchess Stink Eye's perfectly manicured lawn." As they crossed the street, she couldn't help but notice her unfairly attractive neighbor, Klaus, checking his mail. Even a half-block away, she could appreciate the strong jawline and powerful physique hinted at beneath his signature Henley. Good bones. She smiled at her clumsy joke, absently scratching behind Chaucer's ears as he gave her an affectionate nudge with his massive head.
Caroline quickly wrenched her gaze away from Klaus, grumbling, "Neighborhood Asshat's package is pretty enough to almost forget he's Neighborhood Asshat." Normally, she held a neighbor in high esteem that kept to themselves and abhorred small talk, but this one was a grumpy jackass who had an endless entourage that constantly parked up and down the street, blocking driveways and running into mailboxes on several memorable occasions.
At Chaucer's impatient, booming bark, she realized it was time to go log in for work. "We may have an assignment later this week; let's go see if the team has a job for us," she told him cheerfully, allowing Chaucer to jog off some of that pent-up energy since he didn't get any solid tracking time on their morning walk. She was surprised to see that Klaus lingered in his driveway as they made their final loop through the neighborhood. Was he waiting for her?
"Good morning, Caroline — is it," he asked with a twinkle in his gray eyes, as though enjoying a private joke.
She fought down the blush that threatened to creep up her neck at the thought that he knew her name. "Um yeah. And you're...Klaus," she asked hesitantly, offering enough of a pause so that she didn't come across as a stalker. There already were enough thirsty neighbors awkwardly lingering by the mailboxes whenever Klaus went for his morning run.
"Actually, love, I thought it was 'Neighborhood asshat with a nice package'?"
Seriously?! Klaus had ears like a bat. Also, the sidewalk needed to split open and swallow her whole. Chaucer could start a new life fetching hermit crabs for bored tourists in the Caymans. She awkwardly glanced down, surprised to see that Chaucer hadn't angled himself in front of her. The great, lumbering beast was overprotective to a fault — she had to schedule doggy day spa appointments whenever she needed work done on the house just to ensure everyone's safety.
While he clearly didn't view Klaus as a threat, he did seem to be sizing him up, cocking his head so that one side of his jowls flapped low in the breeze. When he lifted one muscled leg, Caroline was horrified to see that he began to pee on what appeared to be very pricey leather hiking boots. "Chaucer, no!" She signaled him, pleased to see his extensive training belatedly kicked in, and he promptly sat down...on top of her foot.
"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! He normally only does that to dogs he's intending to dominate. I promise we'll buy you a new pair!" And she and Chaucer were going to have to pull a shitload of tracking jobs.
Klaus laughed unexpectedly, telling her, "It's refreshing as usually animals are a bit wary around me." He studied Chaucer appreciatively, murmuring in a nostalgic tone, "Beautiful dog. His namesake was quite the rapscallion as well. He lost his post as controller of customs because he tied the fine vestments of the king's Privy Council members to the back of the cesspit carts as they hauled away the malodorous contents. He also purposely left his most famous work, The Canterbury Tales, unfinished because of a wager he lost with a rather mischievous duke."
She clapped her hands in delight, giggling, "You act as though you actually knew Chaucer. I'm excited to meet someone who knows Chaucer's work — most don't recall much about it once they've graduated."
"Yes, I'm quite familiar with Chaucer...his work, of course." He hesitated slightly, as though thinking very hard about something. He blurted out, "Would you care to stop by for dinner this evening?"
Extremely hot Neighborhood Asshat just asked her out. And he seemed to have earned Chaucer's approval — sort of. Smiling widely, she ducked her head slightly in embarrassment as she mumbled, "Only if you let me bring my caramel cookie dough brownies. You know, as a sorry-for-the-whole-asshat thing."
"Of course, sweetheart. But my ego hasn't suffered too greatly — after all, I apparently have a nice package."
Neighborhood Asshat was lucky he was so damn pretty.
Caroline had changed her outfit at least five times to ensure that she looked as though her outfit had been a casual, nonchalant decision that she absolutely did not agonize over. The simple summer dress had a bold poppy pattern and a flirty ruffled skirt, and when she saw the way Klaus eyed her hungrily at the door, she knew she made the right choice. Chaucer's booming bark reminded them they weren't alone, and she waited expectantly to gauge her neighbor's reaction. She and Chaucer were a package deal, and it was best to find out right away if Klaus understood that before she got in too deep.
"I approve of our chaperone for the evening," Klaus told her with a dimpled smirk, giving Chaucer an affectionate pat which the dog immediately took as an invitation to give him a friendly headbutt to the thigh as he nosed his way inside the living room.
She felt her heart flutter, and had to remind herself to go slow. Sure he liked dogs, but he could still have some faults like wearing people's skin or not loading the dishwasher properly. "I hope it's ok I brought Chaucer — he pouts if I'm gone too long and gets revenge by eating the varnish off of my table or gnawing on the baseboards. Plus, you know...um..." she trailed off awkwardly, unsure how to admit she felt more comfortable with the extra protection since she didn't really know Klaus.
"And you wanted to make sure I wasn't a serial killer," he finished for her, a little smug as he watched Caroline awkwardly shuffle her feet.
"Either that or an exiled prince or maybe a mob guy — those are my current working theories," she replied cheekily, taking a sip of the glass of merlot he handed her. At his questioning brow, she explained, "Well, your visitors wear nondescript clothes in dark colors with leather jackets like they're following a secret bodyguard dress code and they do this weird head bow and practically genuflect."
"That's quite the imagination you have," he chuckled, leading her out to the patio where brightly colored appetizers had been laid out on the table. "There's peach and herbed goat cheese crostini and roasted corn salsa to tide you over while the basil balsamic chicken finishes in the oven."
Seriously?! That jawline plus that accent AND he can cook? Jackpot. Of course, with her luck, it probably just meant he really was a serial killer. "It all looks amazing," she gushed, handing over her caramel cookie dough brownies and wincing when she realized she should've plated them properly on one of her nice serving dishes. At least it was newer Tupperware —Chaucer hadn't even chewed on the lid yet. "Here's my completely inadequate contribution to dinner. Next time, I'll be sure to make something fancier," she promised, charmed by how his gray eyes seemed to light up when he opened the container and immediately grabbed the largest piece.
"It's positively scandalous how delicious these are," he eagerly told her with a mouthful of chocolate chips and sticky caramel. With a flirty wink, he added, "And I'm pleased to hear that you anticipate our evening going so well that a second date is a foregone conclusion."
Feeling her cheeks redden, she joked, "Let's get through the appetizer course before we start planning that June wedding."
"If you insist." Klaus gave her an indulgent smile, turning to head back inside as he directed her toward the table, "Please help yourself while I go check on the main course."
With a happy little sigh, Caroline selected a lightly toasted crostini, savoring the tangy goat cheese with honey-sweetened peaches. She noticed Chaucer frolicking happily in Klaus' yard, but when she saw him looking with giddy anticipation at a freshly tilled herb garden, she warned, "Don't even think about it — you're already replacing Klaus' boots, remember? And you know how much I hate yardwork."
Chaucer flicked his ears irritably, a sign that he heard her but would pretend he hadn't for just a few more minutes of playtime. But then, his tail raised, and Caroline realized he was on high alert. She quickly raced toward him, worried that he'd encountered Truman Capote, the curious black snake that roamed everyone's yards. She'd seen Chaucer playfully toss the four-footer in the air like his favorite chew toy, and she didn't think the easygoing reptile would be so forgiving a second time.
And then Chaucer laid down in the middle of Klaus' garden. Normally, Caroline would thoroughly bad-dog him, but he tapped with his paw. Part of Chaucer's years of extensive training involved providing that very specific signal.
She blinked, heart beginning to beat a rapid tattoo as she processed what it meant. Chaucer was a cadaver dog — one of the best in the nation. And he just signaled that he found human remains. In extremely hot Neighborhood Asshat's freshly tilled yard.
