Danny Doormat Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

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  Copyright

  Danny Doormat

  By Rowan McAllister

  It’s time to wipe his feet of the idea that he’s not good enough to be loved.

  Danny Dorfmann is dependable, no matter what’s going on in his own life. So when widower Asa needs a sitter for his dog, Minion, Danny is the natural choice. Besides, Danny’s had a crush on Asa—a hot architect who’s way out of his league—for years.

  Asa is just climbing out of his grief over the loss of his husband and trying to reclaim his life. Love and dating aren’t on his radar, but as one favor turns into another and he spends more time with Danny, romance sneaks up on them.

  Friendly adventures gradually turn into something deeper, but a manipulative roommate and interfering family and friends want to douse the slow burn building between Danny and Asa. To keep the chances of a happily ever after going, Danny will have to take a stand—and to hold on to the man of his dreams, he’ll have to stop letting everybody walk all over him.

  To our own beloved rescue, Minion, you really were the bestest bubbie ever.

  And to all those generous enough to open their homes and their hearts to rescues everywhere, there is no greater reward than the love of an animal who has finally been given the life it deserves, but I’d like to say thank you anyway. You rock!

  Chapter One

  AFTER LIVING in the not-so-exotic Zanzibar Apartments for a year and a half, Danny Dorfmann could sleep through just about anything short of gunfire, a fire alarm… or that particular ringtone. He jolted awake and flailed groggily at the top of his cheap particle-board nightstand until his hand connected with his phone. Holding it as far away from his face as his arm would allow, so he could read the screen without his glasses, he blinked at it until Lane’s name came into focus. He’d like to say his heart settled a little, knowing it was Lane and not one of the others, but he’d be lying.

  Old habits die hard.

  He scowled, disgusted with himself as he hit the green button a little too eagerly.

  “Hello?”

  “Danny boy!”

  “Hey, Lane.”

  “It’s almost noon, dude. Don’t tell me I woke you.”

  “I work nights, Lane,” Danny reminded him, yet one more time.

  “You’re still working at that dive bar? I would’ve thought you’d gotten a real job by now.”

  With a grimace, Danny flopped back on his pillow and rubbed his forehead. It was a microbrewery/pub, not a dive bar. But as for the “real job” gibe, he didn’t have an answer for that, and Lane probably wouldn’t listen even if he did.

  “But actually, that works out better,” Lane plowed on without acknowledging Danny’s silence. “We need you, kid.”

  Danny’s heart did that stupid little kick again, and he sat up. “We” meant one of the Four Horsemen. That’s what Danny’s brother, Derek, and his three best friends had called themselves in high school—Famine, Pestilence, War, and Death. It sounded dorky now, but at the time, Danny would have given anything to be included in that circle.

  Who was he kidding?

  He’d still give anything. Which was why, whenever any of them called, Danny answered with his heart disgustingly all aflutter.

  “What’s wrong?” Danny asked, instantly awake.

  “Asa’s dad went into the hospital this morning. They think it might be a heart attack.”

  “Oh no! That’s terrible. Is his dad okay?”

  “Don’t know. Asa hopped on a flight down there this morning, but I haven’t heard anything since. He said he’d message me later when he knows more.”

  “What can I do?”

  “He needs someone to take care of Minion while he’s gone.”

  Danny blinked. Dogsitting?

  Of course, he’d do anything for Asa, but a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder why Lane couldn’t do it, or at least hire someone to do it since Lane and the rest of the guys made at least five times what Danny did in any given year.

  He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably as his need to please went to war with reality. “Uh, I’d love to help, but I can’t have him here. My roommate would flip, and the apartment complex has a restriction on pit bulls.”

  Especially massive one-hundred-and–twenty-pound pit bulls.

  “That’s no problem,” Lane answered cheerily. “You can just stay at his place. I’d do it myself, but work is crazy for me this week, and it wouldn’t be fair to Minion.”

  Work wasn’t exactly a picnic for Danny either, since he held down two steady part-time jobs and subbed at any bar, coffee shop, restaurant, or brewpub that asked to supplement his meager income, but damned if he would admit that after Lane’s “real job” comment.

  He must have been silent a beat too long, because Lane’s voice turned cajoling. “Asa was pretty messed-up when I talked to him. For the first time since—” His breath hitched. “—since Sean died, I thought he was finally ready to get back on his feet, and then this kicked them right out from under him, like history repeating itself. I could hear it in his voice, poor guy.”

  With a wince, Danny folded. Why did he even bother pretending he wouldn’t?

  Of course he’d do it.

  “Where’s the key?” he asked in resignation.

  Lane’s tone brightened immediately. “I’ll text you the keycode to the garage and the security system code to the house. He said he left that door unlocked and keeps an extra set of keys hanging in the laundry room off the kitchen. He also said he’s got a dog-walker, so you probably need to call her to find out when she comes. Her card’s on the fridge. Thanks, Danny boy. I’m sure it’ll be a load off Asa’s mind to know Sean’s giant furbaby is being taken care of by someone he knows. Call if you need anything.”

  Before Danny could respond, Lane hung up. A few seconds later, Lane texted the numbers, and then all fell quiet again… or as quiet as the Zanzibar ever got during the day in summer, which was to say not.

  Kids screamed and splashed in the small pool in the central courtyard, people shouted at one another out doors and over railings, and the heavy traffic on Powell droned on, but Danny tuned it all out like always as he groaned and flopped dramatically back onto his mattress. At least Trevor, his roommate, wasn’t home, a small kindness, since Danny didn’t even want to think about telling Trevor he’d be gone for a few days and why. He couldn’t think of any reason in the world it should matter to the guy, but Trevor could get weird sometimes, and Danny never knew what would set him off, especially recently.

  With another groan, Danny rolled out of bed, unlocked his door, and headed for their shared bathroom. He climbed into the shower and moaned happily as the warm water poured out of the showerhead. Water pressure could be a tricky thing at the Zanzibar. One of the few perks of working late into the night was that he tended to shower when most people had either gone to bed or were alre
ady at work.

  After squeegeeing down the frosted glass shower door, he stepped out and toweled himself dry with his blue bath blanket. He carefully hung it up on the towel rod Trevor had decided would be his. Then he put in his contacts, brushed his teeth, and gave himself a quick shave. His shaggy brown hair had gotten annoyingly long, but he’d have to wait until he saw how his tips were that weekend to know if he could splurge on a haircut.

  Before leaving the bathroom, he wiped down the counter and rinsed the sink clean by rote and then hurried back to his bedroom. Asa probably hadn’t been gone too long yet, but his place was about an hour away, closer to two hours if Danny tried to take the bus or the MAX. If he’d still had his car, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Arlington Heights might seem like worlds away from the Zanzibar in terms of money and quality of life, but in actuality fewer than twelve miles separated them.

  But he didn’t have a car. He had a car loan he still hadn’t fully paid off, an apartment, and student loans… and a bicycle. He could say he wanted to do his part for the planet, but mostly he was just poor AF.

  He tugged on a pair of biking shorts and his favorite Jack Skellington T-shirt before rummaging through his basket of clean laundry for as many clothes as he could fit in his backpack. At least Arlington Heights was near the Hoyt, the Japanese Gardens, and the Rose Test Garden, so he could easily use the MAX or TriMet to get back to the city for work. Maybe he should bite the bullet and endure the hour-and-forty-minute ride out to Sean’s—Asa’s place, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving his bike behind.

  When he’d packed as much as he could possibly carry, clipped his sneakers to the outside of his backpack, and laced on his biking shoes, he pushed his bike out of the bedroom and leaned it against the back of their thrift store couch. Rather than sending Trevor a text, he pulled the notepad off the refrigerator and scribbled a few words of explanation. He left it on the counter next to the coffeepot, filled his water bottle from the tap, and headed for the door.

  A couple of kids stopped splashing and screaming long enough to wave at him from the pool, and two disinterested guardians in bikinis lifted their gazes from their phones, like meerkats scenting a predator. They eyed him long enough to size him up for threat before dismissing him. Despite dreading the ride ahead, Danny smiled and waved back at the kids. The Zanzibar might not be the loveliest place to live, but it wasn’t all bad either.

  Straight up Powell would have been the fastest route, but Powell didn’t have a bike lane, and he wasn’t in so much of a hurry that he felt like risking it. By the time he reached the Hawthorne Bridge, he’d sweated through his shirt, despite the nice breeze from the water. He stopped at Waterfront Park for a breather and to enjoy the view, squinting in the afternoon sun. The park really wasn’t that far away, particularly since his jobs were downtown, but for some reason he rarely made it out there. Life just got in the way more often than not. It might be a welcome relief to see how the other half lived for a few days.

  The rest of his trip was pretty much all uphill from there, literally, and with a groan of dread and another gulp of water, he clambered back on his bike and headed for the Heights. He puffed, red-faced, to a halt at the end of the short driveway, and a lump formed in his throat as he eyed the house. The combination A-frame/midcentury modern, wood-sided house looked pretty much the same as the last time he’d seen it two years ago, after Sean’s funeral. It perched on a hillside, like most of the homes in swanky Arlington Heights, and from the huge deck and enormous glass windows that dominated the back of the house, you could see most of Portland spread out below and Mt. Hood’s white-capped glory in the distance.

  Before memories and unresolved feelings could swamp him, he put his head down, marched his bike to the garage door, and punched in the code. Minion started barking from deep inside the house as soon as the motor kicked on. By the time Danny made it past Sean’s Jeep and Asa’s crossover in the garage to the nearly all-glass door leading into the house, a gigantic brindle mound of muscle, slobber, tongue, and teeth filled the hall beyond. Danny had no idea why Sean and Asa had ever bothered with the security system. No one in their right mind would try to get inside their house with that monster waiting to greet them. Lucky for Danny, he knew Minion was a big mush-muffin on the inside. But even so, the barking made his lizard brain cringe, especially since he hadn’t seen the dog in two years.

  “Hey, Min. Do you remember me?” he called as he cracked the door open.

  Minion immediately stopped barking and started his unique rhythmic whine while his tail wagged excitedly. Danny pressed inside and got a handful of enormous tongue. Seriously, the dog could lick the back of its head with that thing.

  “Good boy. You remember me, yeah? Come on. Let’s go outside.”

  He pushed his way in, and Minion backed up enough to let him get the door closed before rushing forward to continue his enthusiastic greeting. A leather leash hung on a hook by the door, but Danny hadn’t quite recovered from his trip up the hill yet, especially since it came at the end of a sweltering hour-long trek through the city.

  Asa must have been too distracted to set the alarm before he left, because the keypad remained silent as Danny moved past it toward the kitchen. He had no idea when the dog-walker usually came, so first he headed toward the stairs to the basement with Minion at his heels. The house had a small, mostly level patch of grass among the terraced beds out a sliding glass door.

  “Here you go. This should get you a bit of relief before I try to take you on a walk,” he said, as he unlocked and opened the door.

  Minion trotted out and lifted his leg on some carefully landscaped flowering bushes that probably cost more than Danny made in a week.

  Until recently, one of the joys of living in Portland was that the weather never really got too cold or too hot, but with global warming, and after that trek up the hill, he fully appreciated the air-conditioning at his back as he watched Minion amble around a bit, sniff a few things, then lumber toward the door again.

  After closing and locking it, Danny led Minion back upstairs. A quick check of the bowls in the laundry room by the garage showed him the dog still had plenty of food and water.

  “Okay, Min. Now what?”

  He snagged a towel out of a basket in the laundry room, wandered back into the great room, and draped it over the couch. He didn’t want to shower yet if he was going to take the dog out again anyway, but he wouldn’t share his sticky self with Asa’s couch. He did take off his biking shoes, though, all the while fending off Minion’s curious snuffles and overly enthusiastic tongue.

  “Ugh, dog, put that thing away. I’m already moist enough, thank you very much.”

  He smiled, despite his words, but the smile fell away when he spotted the picture frames filling the built-ins by the fireplace across the room. His heart did a little lurch as Minion plunked down next to him, waiting for more attention. Danny absently dragged his fingers through the short brindle fur as each image of a smiling or laughing Sean hit him like a punch to the chest.

  Sean had been a force of nature even in high school. As the loudest and most extroverted of the Four Horsemen, Sean had chosen War for his avatar, but he’d never been a particularly warlike guy. He’d been passionate, fun, driven, sometimes mercurial, but always quick to forgive and forget… and Danny had been in love with him since the first time Derek had brought him home after school. Because of Sean, Danny had, at the ripe age of eleven, been forced to accept that he liked boys instead of girls—though he didn’t admit it to anyone until years later. Now Sean was gone, taken away far too young by a pulmonary embolism nobody saw coming, leaving a giant hole in all of their lives.

  Centered among the various snaps and candid photos, ranging from high school to only a few years ago, was Sean and Asa’s wedding photo. They’d gotten married on the beach, with a glorious sunset behind them. Sean, freckled and grinning widely beneath his bushy ginger beard, held an equally grinning Asa close to his side. Both men had worn tu
xes but gone barefoot, and the deep black of Asa’s hair and tux complimented his olive skin and hazel eyes beautifully. Danny had been there on that beach six years ago to hear them exchange their vows. They’d both seemed so ecstatically happy, he hadn’t had the heart to feel jealous… mostly.

  But which one of them were you more jealous of?

  God, he was so fucked-up. He groaned, and Minion looked up at him questioningly.

  “Come on, Min. Let’s go for that walk, shall we?”

  He hopped up from the couch and headed for the hallway to snag his sneakers off his backpack and Minion’s leash before he could spend too much more time walking the twisted paths of memory lane.

  The next few days, or however long it took for Asa to come home, were going to be interesting.

  Chapter Two

  ASA WAVED to the Uber driver before turning and wheeling his suitcase down the driveway to the garage door. Minion’s excited barking coming from inside the house brought a tired smile to his face.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming,” he grumbled tiredly as Min’s bark became even more high-pitched and needy at the sight of him through the glass.

  He endured Minion’s affectionate onslaught for a few seconds before pushing the dog away so he could squeeze inside with his carry-on.

  “Back, back. Down, down, down. Go, go, go. Mine, mine, mine,” he teased as Minion scooted backward. The dog’s nails clicked on the wood floor, his tongue lolled out of his wide toothy grin, and Asa felt a little of the stress from last few days slough from his shoulders.

  It was good to be home.

  After punching in the code to turn off the alarm, he patted Min on the head and shuffled past him toward the kitchen for a glass of water. August was as dry and hot as Portland ever got. Glorious afternoon sunlight streamed through the massive windows along the back of the house, but all he wanted was a long nap in his own bed. He was only twenty-nine years old, but after sleeping on the bedrock his parents called a guest room bed and flying literally across the entire country twice in a few days, he felt about eighty.