New Leash on Life (The Dogfather Book 2) Page 14
Perfect.
“I gotta go,” he said, standing up.
Dave followed his gaze. “Pretty and smart, that one.”
“Sure is.” He gave Daisy’s leash a tug. “Come on, girl. Let’s go find out how it went.”
Dave stood, too, putting a hand on Shane’s arm. “Mind if I offer a word of advice, Son?”
Shane tried not to appear completely impatient, but he didn’t want Chloe taking off before he reached her since she didn’t know he was waiting. “Sure.”
“Keep a good eye on her.”
“I know,” he said. “Pretty and smart. I am, don’t—”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Shane felt his brows draw together, more at the slightly ominous tone than the statement. “Then what do you mean?”
Dave looked from side to side as if Bushrod Square were teeming with spies. “Folks will want to stop this, and she’s going to be a bit of a…what’s the expression? A lightning rod.”
“I imagine there will be a contingent opposed to changing the town’s name,” Shane said, choosing his words carefully.
“Pretty strong contingent, backed by Mitch and Jeannie, two of the most well-connected people in town. They’re going to do everything they can to stop it. Just sayin’.”
Shane nodded. “We can—she can—handle it.”
“Okay, then, you let me know how things are going. Let me know what your plans are, maybe who tells you they’re for it or against. I can help, quietly, in the background.”
Shane considered that and the amount of power this man had with his close connection to one of the town’s largest landowners, even if Fisker had moved away. He still wielded power, and it was good to have Ashland on their side.
“Thanks,” Shane said, his eye on Chloe, who paused on the steps to take out her phone. “Good to know you’re supporting it.”
In his pocket, Shane’s phone vibrated with a text, and he reached for it, using it as an excuse to end the conversation. “Got a call, Dave.”
“Of course. You take care, Shane.” Dave headed off in the same direction he’d come as Shane read the text. And smiled.
Did you get Daisy? Is she okay? BTW, meeting was awesome! Can’t wait to tell you.
He didn’t know what he liked more—that she cared enough about Daisy to ask about her first, not even an afterthought or that she cared enough about him to want to share.
He thumbed back Look across the street.
“Good news, Daisy,” he whispered as he hit send. “She likes us both.”
In a second, she read her phone, looked up, searched the park, and lifted her arm in a happy wave when she spotted him. She’d skipped the tight ponytail today, and when she scampered down the steps like she was floating on air, her long hair swung over her shoulders like a chocolate-colored waterfall. And all he wanted to do was drown in it.
“Good thing, too,” he added. “’Cause I like her. A lot.”
Daisy barked as soon as she saw Chloe coming toward them.
Guess they both liked her a lot.
* * *
For the briefest second, Chloe almost couldn’t take a breath she was so darn happy to see him. To see them.
This was the icing on a Very Good Day cake, Chloe thought as she navigated the stone stairs in heels and made her way across the street to the square. By the time she got there, Daisy had broken into a run, pulling the leash Shane held.
“Whoa, whoa, girl.” Shane held her back before she jumped on Chloe. “Woman is in white, again, head to toe.”
“I’m going to have to change to a more dog-friendly wardrobe,” she joked. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He gave her a huge smile while Daisy barked and barked. “You’re going to have to greet her.”
“Of course.” She reached down and stroked Daisy’s head, giving a good scratch behind her ears, because Daisy loved that. “I have good news for you, Miss Daisy.”
“They voted already?” Shane rounded the dog and put an arm around Chloe, the move completely natural. Just like the shiver it sent through her when he pulled her in for a hug.
“They’re deliberating and then voting, and Blanche thought it was good for me to be gone during all that, but Shane…” She bit her lip and looked up at him, knowing her whole face must be lit up with the afterglow of an incredible presentation. “It was so good! I think I nailed it.”
“Way to go!” He pulled her all the way in and bent down to kiss her. Just a celebratory peck, but the feeling of his mouth on hers never got old. It was never just anything but amazing. “I had no doubt you would rock the house.”
“There were so many people, too. The town council, which has thirteen voting members, plus my aunt, Blanche, but she doesn’t vote. And for some reason, there was an audience.”
“Word got out.”
“It sure did,” she agreed. “Another twenty or more people, but at least eight people asked me where Daisy was.”
“You could have taken her!” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t we think of that?”
“It’s okay. It wasn’t the right place for her and, you know, all that applause when I was done might have scared her.” She slid her arm around his waist as they walked.
“Nothing scares her, or you.”
She looked up at him. “Plenty scares me and you know it.” Like sex. Sex scared her, and surely he’d figured that out by now.
“One barrier at a time, Chloe.”
She gave him a grateful smile, too happy with her work and the day to think about anything else. Even something she’d been thinking about morning, noon, and night since she’d met him. Especially at night, when Daisy’s snoring kept her awake and thoughts of Shane kept her…uncomfortable.
“So, tell me everything,” he said, obviously not mired in a ‘should I or shouldn’t I’ scenario like she was. “What was the vibe when you presented the idea?”
“Well, some people whined about permits and licenses and specifics like that, but I felt the momentum was on my side all the way, for sure.”
“So what happens next?” he asked.
“Lunch, I hope. I’m starving.”
She looked up at Shane, drinking in the lines of his face, his hazel eyes returning her gaze, the ball cap making him look ridiculously masculine and handsome and kissable.
“What?” he asked, obviously sensing her staring at him.
“Nothing, it’s just…you look cute.”
He laughed and pulled her closer. “You are flirting so hard, Perfect Chloe.”
“And you are flirting right back, Dirty Shame.”
He pulled Daisy’s leash and brought her to a complete stop at the intersection while they waited for cars to pass. “You want me to kiss you right here in the middle of the street in Bitter Bark?”
She inched forward. “Better Bark, and yes.”
He met her halfway, putting his lips on hers.
“Uh, the light’s changed, you two.”
They broke apart at the sound of a woman behind them, turning together to offer an apology.
“Oh, hello, Rachel.”
“Rachel Marcus?” Chloe remembered the woman immediately, one of the town council members, a very attractive interior designer who owned an antique shop. “I thought you were still in the meeting.”
She gave a wistful smile, her dark brown gaze drifting straight to Shane and staying there. “My mind was made up, so I slipped out to run an errand.” She swallowed visibly. “How are you, Shane?”
Oh, this was the beauty Rachel that Gramma Finnie had mentioned. Every womanly radar Chloe had went on an instant low-grade Ex Alert.
“I’m good, Rach. I forgot you were on the town council this year. I guess you two have met, then.” There was the slightest hint of awkward in his voice to confirm Chloe’s guess.
“We sure have,” Rachel said, the enthusiasm a tad forced. “I didn’t realize you knew each other that well.”
Well enough to kiss on the street. S
he didn’t say it, but Chloe could read the rest of the sentence, and maybe a hint of sadness, as the woman brushed a light brown lock away from a lovely face.
“Thank you for your support in the meeting,” Chloe said, remembering that Rachel had asked several very intelligent questions, and when a small debate broke out, she’d clearly been in favor of the name change.
“Thank you for a delightful new idea.” As if she simply couldn’t resist, her attention slipped back to Shane. “I guess I understand the inspiration now.”
“Oh, no, not me. This was all Chloe’s idea. I was on the advisory committee.”
“So, you’ve only recently met?” she asked, trying for polite and interested, but Chloe was a woman, too. The hitch in the voice, the little bit of defeat in her shoulders, even the way she looked at Chloe—as if she was trying to figure out what does she have that I don’t?—it was all there.
“I’m taking care of one of the Waterford dogs,” Chloe said, somehow wanting to alleviate the sting of seeing an ex, or maybe a crush, kissing another woman on the street.
Rachel looked down at Daisy. “She’s a beauty.” Without hesitation, she lowered herself to meet Daisy’s face, giving her a friendly, fearless scratch and, of course, getting a juicy tongue bath on her hand as a thank-you. Rachel laughed and didn’t flinch, of course.
She rose slowly, her game face back on now that the dog had given her a chance to recover from the unexpected encounter. “You do love a Staffy, Shane. That much hasn’t changed.”
“No, that will never change.” He gave her a warm, kind, but definitely a sorry things didn’t work out smile and got exactly the same thing in return.
“Well, I better get moving, or I won’t be back in time for the big vote,” she said brightly. “I’m sure you’ll get exactly what you want, Chloe.”
Was there double meaning in that? “I really hope to have the full support of the council,” she replied smoothly. “And thank you again.”
“Well.” Rachel gave a you never know shrug. “I haven’t voted yet. Oh, there’s the light again. Let’s cross this time.”
They did and said goodbye quickly on the other side, then took a few steps toward the sandwich shop in silence.
“I’m sure she’ll give you her vote,” he finally said.
“You think? Maybe she changed her mind after seeing you kiss me.”
He opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again. “She’s not a vindictive person.”
“But she is an ex?”
He nodded. “Two years ago. A month or two. No biggie.”
Bet it was a “biggie” to Rachel. She wanted to ask more, but he steered them toward the outside tables. “We’re not eating in the square?”
“Not today. Daisy has to work.”
She laughed, knowing from the past two days that Daisy loved having a job, and her job was making people adore her. They sat right in the middle of a group of about eight tables, getting a few interested—and some not so thrilled—looks from other patrons.
“You sit here with her, and I’ll get lunch. Make friends.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t sit here and talk to people? You handle her so well.”
“You handle her perfectly, and they’re not just voting for dogs, Chloe, they’re voting for you.” He pushed her chair in from behind and planted the lightest kiss on her head. “Salad with ranch and ten extra napkins, right?”
She laughed and nodded.
“Knock ’em dead, baby.”
In keeping with a darn near perfect day, Daisy was a dream. She settled right in at Chloe’s feet, looked around, then rested her head. Not a bark, snarl, or moment of worry. Two people at the next table commented on her behavior, and one added, “For that breed,” to his compliment.
No wonder Shane was so sick of hearing that. Chloe made small talk, used her hand sani, and checked her phone, then looked up when Shane came back with lunch. Daisy didn’t move, but watched him carefully.
“She was like this the whole time you were gone,” Chloe informed him.
“Of course. Our girl is as perfect as you are.” Our girl. Her heart turned over on that one. He winked and handed her a handful of napkins. “And, as always, in white.”
“It’s my favorite color.”
“I noticed. It’s actually the absence of color.”
“And the absence of dirt,” she replied.
“So no pesky molecules of uncleanliness can hide on you.”
“Just the way I like it.”
He put an elbow on the table, studying her. “Have you ever gotten really absolutely filthy dirty?”
“I was a waitress one summer in college, and I got pretty grimy by the end of the night.”
He fought a laugh. “I mean really, truly dirty. Like outdoor dirt. Real filth.”
“Why would I want to?”
“For one thing, it might fix your phobia.”
She snapped the lid of the container, cracking it a little too hard. “I do not have a phobia. I have a healthy, clean, sanitary lifestyle. And…” She leaned forward. “I’m living with a dog.”
He shook his head. “It’s not healthy,” he mumbled, opening his sandwich.
She picked around the salad to find the red onions, but there were none.
“Had them hold the onions,” he said.
Sighing, she opened the dressing container. “I bet you made a terrific boyfriend,” she mused.
One brow launched north as he held a sandwich poised at his mouth. “What brought that on? Rachel?”
“The onions. You’re thoughtful. And Rachel.”
He shrugged. “Big family. You get the hang of being nice. It’s a survival skill.”
“I think you’re just nice.” She stabbed a cucumber, thinking. “Was she brokenhearted?”
After swallowing a bite, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, then looked down at Daisy. “I knew we’d go there,” he whispered to the dog. “You’re supposed to be a distraction.”
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you broke up with her.”
“Why would you make that assumption?”
Because he was gorgeous, a great catch, and nice. “She had a little tinge of, I don’t know, sadness? Regret? The one that got away-ness?”
He put the sandwich down and opened a bag of chips. “It was mutual,” he finally said.
“Really?”
“Don’t you think it’s possible she dumped me?”
“No.”
He angled his head. “I think there’s a compliment in those two letters.”
“Just stating a fact. And she was way more ruffled by the sight of you than you were of her.”
He considered that, eating some more, not talking. Then he said, “She wanted to get serious.”
“And you don’t do serious.”
He looked long and hard at her, as if he was trying to decide how honest to be. “I don’t believe in…all that,” he finally said. “I mean, I’m know it happens to some people, and that’s great, but I honestly think that whole live happily ever after forever and ever thing is a myth.”
For some reason, his words made her chest tight. “Gosh, if someone like you who was raised in a happy home with healthy parents and a totally lovely family doesn’t believe in it, what hope is there for the rest of us?”
“You can have hope, I just don’t like mine to be ripped to shreds. It feels too much like losing, which is something I don’t like to do.”
“So when you think you might lose something, you don’t try?”
He shifted a little in his seat and looked down at Daisy, who snoozed on the ground between them. “Maybe,” he admitted softly.
“Is that what happened with Rachel?” she asked. “You decided it wasn’t worth trying on the off chance you would fail?”
“Look, Rachel wasn’t right for me. But, it’s not an ‘off chance’ of failure. It’s a one-in-a-zillion chance of success. I don’t take bets I’m bound to lose.”
�
�Why do you hate losing so much?”
“Why do you hate dirt so much?” he fired back.
She had her reasons, and it hadn’t taken a shrink to figure them out. Not that she’d ever go to a shrink, because only crazy people did that, and she wasn’t—
Her phone hummed with a text. Turning it over, she saw the name Blanche Wilkins and some beautiful words on the screen: VICTORY! We won by 8-5!
With a soft gasp, she held the phone to him to let him read it.
“You know what that means, Chloe?”
“We are one step closer to changing the name of this town and making it the dog-friendliest place in America?”
“That and…we have to celebrate the win.” He winked and took her hand. “And if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s celebrate a win.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you don’t know what a consolation prize even feels like.”
He pulled her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss. “Of course I don’t. But I know exactly how we’re going to celebrate this one. There’s only one rule.”
She looked at him, waiting.
“Don’t wear white.”
“Why not?”
His smile was slow and sexy and sinful. “Because you’re going to get very, very dirty.”
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t wait.
Chapter Thirteen
Shane poured the last gallon of gas and wiped some sweat from his brow, considering if he should take a shower before Chloe arrived. That would be a complete waste of time, but he was filthy from working in the kennels, running some hands-on training and now, at the height of the day’s heat, filling tanks in the storage shed. Absolutely filthy.
Well, that’s what today was all about.
“Shane, you in here, Son?”
“In the back, Dad.” He came out from behind a row of dirt bikes to see his father wandering into the shed. “S’up?”
“You’ve been busy today,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but every time I look for you, you’re surrounded by trainees.”
“New class started today,” he reminded his father. “But I’m done working now. What did you need?”