Paws for a Kiss (Canine Cupids Book 1) Read online

  Bev stood up. "In my world, if you care about someone, then that's all there is to it. You don't destroy someone you care about, no matter what."

  "I'm not destroying you! I already told you that I'd help you find other options. Hell, I can help finance it." He ran his hand through his hair, frustrated by the pain in her eyes. Instead of alleviating it, all he seemed capable of doing was making it worse. Even if he couldn't love her, he wanted her to understand he cared about her and her plight. He wasn't heartless and cold.

  "That's it? That's your big gesture to make me sleep with you? That you'll toss a few bucks my way afterwards?"

  Shit. When she said it like that, it sounded worse than awful. When he'd thought it, it had sounded good. He'd thought it made sense. But clearly, he was wrong.

  She sighed. "Don't get me wrong, Mack, you're nicer than I thought you'd be. But I need someone who thinks I'm more important than his job."

  He had no rebuttal. He was putting his job in front of her shelter, a shelter that she believed in.

  She rubbed her cheek on Mac's head, smiling sadly when he licked her cheek. "I'm better off with someone like Les who will put me first."

  "Les? The guy I met in your first aid room? That Les?" Jealousy clawed at Mack's gut, tore at his heart. "He's an idiot."

  Bev lifted her chin. "He would never destroy my world."

  "Because he's too weak and pathetic to accomplish anything—" He cut himself off instantly at Bev's raised brows. Oh…wow. Had that really just come out of his mouth? Since when did he judge other people? He didn't. He'd been at the bottom of every proverbial totem pole at some point in his life, and he knew how easy it was to go back there.

  Jealousy. Son of a bitch. He was jealous. He'd never been jealous of any guy in his life. No woman had mattered that much to him, and he'd never invested in any enough to care. But the way his gut was clenching at the idea of Bev dating Les told him all he needed to know: he was jealous as hell, over a woman he'd just met, kissed once, and wrecked her dreams.

  He had no right to kiss her. He had no right to stand in her way of finding a guy that was better than him, which wouldn't be that hard. He was already in too deep. He needed to get out, and get out now. So, he took a deep breath, and forced words that sank like a stone in his gut as he said them. "Listen. You can go out with whoever you want. I won't kiss you again."

  She blinked. "You won't? I mean, darn right you won't. And I'm going out with Les."

  He straightened his tie, stalling for time while he tried to get his jealousy under control. Never show weakness, was his motto. Actually, his motto was not to have a weakness in the first place, but apparently, he'd messed up there, because he was pretty sure that jealousy counted as a major weakness. Obviously, kissing her had been the wrong approach. Next plan: forget about the body that was hidden under those baggy overalls, and definitely don't think about Les.

  Both were impossible. Clearly, it was time to leave.

  But he didn't stand up. He opened his mouth instead. "So, do you want my help finding other options for Give a Dog a Bone? The offer's still on the table." Seriously? He'd offered again? How exactly did that go along with his plan to get up, walk out, and forget about her? He wasn't a guy to deviate from his plans. Ever. And yet, around Bev, he couldn't even think straight.

  She simply couldn't be that irresistible.

  But she was.

  Bev lifted her chin, and shook her head, clearly not feeling the same all-consuming level of attraction and need that had made his entire way of living start to crumble. "No, thanks," she said, declining his offer. "I'll find a way to bring Whittle down on my own."

  He shrugged, deciding not to point out that his offer had been to find other solutions, not destroy his client. He was a workaholic, money-obsessed, corporate bastard, and destroying his client and his career wasn't an option for him. "Fine. But you should focus on finding other options, because Whittle isn't going to stand down." He paused, debating whether to tell her that her EPA declaration had killed any chance he might have had to redirect Whittle, but he didn't. He simply couldn't bring himself to shut down her fierceness. Instead, he said merely, "You've only got ninety days, so I wouldn't waste time on dead ends."

  "Les will have ideas. I don't need your help."

  The mention of Les made his eyes cross, but he ground his teeth, reminding himself he had no claim on her. "Great. Best of luck." He stood up and started to walk out of the pen, then thought of that dim bulb providing insufficient light for the parking lot. "Are you leaving now?"

  "I suppose so." Bev picked up her laptop and hugged it to her chest, as if she was using it to protect herself from him, which he deserved.

  Right now, he felt like a complete monster, and he didn't understand it. He was doing what he did to make sure that no one he loved ever died when they didn't have to. That was it. No other reason. That truth had always enabled him to do what he had to do, to work as many hours as necessary, to deal with clients he didn't like. It had always been enough…until now. Until Bev. Until this shelter.

  She narrowed her eyes. "Are you okay?"

  He cleared his throat. "Fine. I'm fine." He held open the door to the pen. "I'll walk you. The parking lot is dark. Get your stuff." He might not have a right to care who she kissed, and he might be unable to be the man she made him want to be, but he was at least going to make sure she got home okay.

  She scowled at his autocratic command, but didn't resist. She snapped her fingers, and Mac jumped into her arms. Janey followed him cheerfully, and they waited while Bev made sure the beagle was comfortable.

  There was no conversation between them, even as they walked the passageways back to the front.

  It wasn't until Bev and Mac were safely in her car, with the engine running, that she finally spoke. "You'll hear from me," Bev said. "I'm not giving up."

  Her spunk made him grin, and he couldn't hide the relief. He realized a part of him wanted her to win. To take down Whittle in a way that he couldn't do. Bev was a fighter, a woman who would challenge him every day for the rest of his life if they were married.

  He blinked.

  What? Married? Whoa. Forget that thought. He cleared his throat, trying not to pass out from shock at the thoughts running around in his brain. "I figured you wouldn't give up. Try not to do anything illegal. Whittle will press charges." He had to at least warn her about that. "He's not a nice guy."

  She raised her brows. "He's not going to press anything against me, or anything I care about."

  Mack tried not to think about what he would like to press against her.

  Chapter 10

  Bev leaned on the mop and wiped the sweat out of her eyes. "It's way too hot to be cleaning pens."

  "Save the poop. We can stash it in Whittle's car." Josie was sitting on the dog food bins, her sandals hanging off her tanned feet as she studied the Sunday paper. "Here's another listing. This property is five acres with an old warehouse on it, currently being used as a dog shelter...oh, wait, that's this property. Shoot. It sounded perfect."

  "It's no use reading that, Josie. I've gone over every listing within two hundred miles. There's nothing I can afford." She wondered what Mack was doing at that moment. Probably enjoying a fancy air-conditioned lunch of escargot somewhere.

  It had been thirteen hours since their kiss...as if "kiss" could begin to describe what had happened between them. She still didn't know what to think. Why on earth had she let him kiss her like that? She should hate him. She knew she should. But something inside her wanted him.

  Sex? Was it just some primal sex-fiend side of her that she didn't know about? Was it some sort of PTSD from being rejected so many times in high school, forcing her to leap upon the first opportunity to get nailed by the "hot" guy? Didn't she have morals? He didn't love her. She didn't love him. They didn't even like each other.

  Okay, that was a total lie. She liked him. He was funny. He was thoughtful. He had a rescue dog. And there were shadows in his
eyes that called to her. There was more to him than he showed, and she wanted to know what it was.

  God, what was wrong with her? She was in the middle of a crisis that he had caused, and she couldn't stop thinking about whether she shouldn't have stopped him last night. Was it so wrong to make love to a man because he made her body sing? Did she really have to stop because he didn't love her? She wasn't so sure anymore. A part of her longed to throw herself at Mack and enjoy the ride for as long and as far as he would take her. Heck, if reality was anything like her dreams about him had been, it would be worth the risk of having her heart broken.

  "Have faith. I bet that crowd funding plea you set up online is going to get you tons of donations." Apparently oblivious to the intense moral dilemma raging inside Bev, Josie tossed aside the real estate section and picked up the classifieds. "It was brilliant to use the photo of the beagle. No one will be able to resist handing over cash to save that cute little face."

  "I hope so. I've posted it every ten minutes on all my social media accounts in an attempt to annoy everyone I know so much that they'll share it just to make me stop."

  "Success through harassment. I love it." Josie cocked her head. "So, I drove by last night and saw Mack's car outside. Late night visit?"

  And that question was going to help so much with her goal of trying not to think about Mack. Bev propped her mop against the wall, set her hands on her hips, and faced her friend. "Should I ask Les out?" Oh…that question actually hurt coming out. Asking Les out? The idea of it kind of made her face want to contort in horror.

  Two thuds sounded as Josie's flip-flops slid off her feet to the floor. "What? You want to ask Les out? What are you talking about?"

  Bev shrugged, avoiding eye contact as she checked her wrists for a hair elastic, but found none. The moment she didn't find one, her hair immediately started to annoy her, and she needed it in a ponytail immediately. "I don't know. He likes me, doesn't he?" Why couldn't Mack feel about her the way Les did? Why couldn't she react to Les the way she did when Mack touched her? It was so irritating.

  "Well, yeah, but I like you too and I don't think you should ask me out."

  "He's been out all morning distributing flyers about the shelter. Mack would never do that for me." Actually, she didn't know that. Mack had offered to help her numerous times... Maybe he really was more like Les, in all the right ways. No, he wasn't. He didn't believe in love.

  Bev picked up a thin piece of rope and braided it through her hair, tying a knot at the end. It wasn't attractive, but at least it kept her hair off her neck. When she finished and dropped her hands, she realized that Josie was staring at her, the newspaper floating softly to the floor. "What's wrong with you?" she asked Josie.

  "Why are you comparing Les to Mack?"

  "I'm not." Bev picked up the mop and resumed vigorous mopping.

  A thud sounded as Josie jumped off the bin. "Beverly Ryan, you stop mopping right now and talk to me."

  "I have nothing to say." But she set her mop aside and turned toward her friend. "Mack kissed me." Articulating it made all the emotions and feelings of last night come tumbling back. Her stomach jumped into flip-flops and a shiver of excitement curled her toes.

  "No way." Josie's shriek set the dogs howling.

  "Yep. And then he told me that he was still stealing my shelter, because kissing me and ruining my life were completely unrelated things."

  "Wow." Josie's flip-flops clopped on the cement floor as she hurried across the floor toward Bev. "And then what?"

  "He walked me to my car. To make sure I was safe." A gentleman, no doubt. She wondered whether he did things like that for all women, or just her. How she wanted to be special.

  "Did he really? How utterly gallant and fiendishly obnoxious at the same time." Josie grabbed the mop from Bev and inverted it so the mop head was at face level. Cradling the handle in the crook of her arm, she began to dance around the pen, her eyelids at half-mast and a demure smile upon her face.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Showing you what you and Mack will look like dancing at your wedding. You're the skinny mop, of course, with the wild hairdo."

  Bev rolled her eyes and grabbed the mop from her friend. "You were up late reading a romance novel last night again, weren't you?"

  "As always. I love happy endings. Plus, my mom would stop harassing me about getting married if she could plan your wedding. She really needs one, and you could fill in for me."

  "Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but there'll be no happy ending for me and Mack. I prefer someone who thinks I'm at least a fraction more important than work. Just because the man brought me dinner and walked me to my car does not mean he falls into that category of men."

  "He brought you dinner?" Josie sighed.

  "And wine, but the calzone was half-eaten and the wine was already opened. And we drank out of the cups I use for my stool samples." Definitely not romantic. Actually, it was the most romantic dinner she'd ever experienced, because it had been Mack who'd brought her the food. But there was no need to let herself think of that. No need at all.

  Thankfully, they were interrupted before Josie could continue to spin her romantic fantasies and lure Bev into them.

  "Bev? Josie? Where are you guys?" Les's beleaguered voice echoed against the cement walls, arousing a few yips.

  "Aisle four," Bev shouted. She lowered her voice to normal. "Les thinks I'm more important than his work."

  "That's because Les works at a bowling alley. He thinks anything is more important than his work. Not that I don't love my brother, but he's not exactly a stud."

  "I'm sure he'd kiss just fine." Heaven help her, the thought of kissing Les gave her the willies. Mack had ruined her for all other men. The jerk.

  "Which reminds me, was Mack a good kisser?" Josie waved her hands in dismissal. "Never mind. Of course he was. Wasn't he?"

  "You could say that." Or she could say that he'd caused her to soar above the earth, made her senses vibrate and aroused her like she'd never been before.

  She was spared the need for further elucidation by the timely appearance of Les, wearing baggy sweatpants and a button-down shirt that didn't quite close over his belly. She chewed her lower lip, but she just couldn't cope with the image of him straddling her the way Mack had. Yep, she was definitely hopeless, unless she could find a way to get over Mack. "Hey, Les. How's it going?"

  Les wiped a hand through his thinning hair and beamed at Bev. "Great. I covered three churches today and handed out a bunch of flyers when people were leaving."

  "You're the best, Les," Bev said. "Thanks so much for your help."

  A faint pink highlighted his cheeks. "Anything for you, Bev."

  Josie snorted, and Bev was barely able to keep the corners of her mouth from curling up. Despite her friend's insistence to the contrary, Bev doubted whether she'd get tired of a man being so nice to her, doing nice things like bandaging her leg and bringing her dinner… Darn it. She didn't want Les doing those things for her. Mack was the only one who would suffice. "Hey, Les, do you want to go to dinner with me tonight?"

  Ignoring Josie's horrible coughing fit, Bev smiled brightly at Les, who had paled to a sickly gray, with a trickle of sweat easing down his temple. "Um… gosh… well, I don't know. I'll have to see."

  He shoved the leftover flyers into the arms of his choking sister, then bolted out of the room. Bev sagged with relief at his disappearance, knowing she could never have actually gone to dinner with him. What if he touched her arm? Or tried to kiss her? There was no way she could tolerate it, not with the memories of Mack's kisses so vivid.

  Damn. Why had she asked him? That had been unfair to do to him. It was Mack's fault. He was turning her brain into sex-induced-mush.

  Josie turned to Bev and sighed with dramatic effect. "See? He isn't enough man for you, Bev. He'd drive you crazy in a week, and then you'd have to break his heart. Your friendship with him will be ruined, and then I'll be pulled heartlessly between you
two, driving me to a state of total insanity so you'd have to send me off to a mental institution. If you love me, you'll stay away from Les." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Unless, of course, I got a really handsome, single doctor at the mental institution who decided that he would take it upon himself to cure me… that might be okay."

  "What would I do without you to keep my view of reality on track? Thank heavens I have you around." Bev resumed mopping for the umpteenth time. "I love you way too much to send you to a mental hospital, so I'll stay away from your brother." No need to admit the truth to her friend, that she was staying away from Les because she was hopelessly hung up on Mack.

  Then the shelter landline rang

  "Oh, my heavens, I bet that's Mack, calling to beg your forgiveness and give you the shelter." Josie dropped the flyers on the floor and sprinted to the ancient black phone stuck to the wall. "Give a Dog a Bone Animal Rescue. Can I help you?"

  After listening for a moment, Josie held the phone out to Bev. "It's not Mack."

  Scowling at the disappointment that surged through her, Bev leaned the mop handle against the wall and walked over to the phone. "This is Bev."

  "Are you the one who's looking for a donation for your animal rescue shelter?" It was the crackly voice of an older person, but Bev couldn’t tell whether it was male or female.

  "Yes, it is. We're looking for donations of equipment, money or facilities, all tax-deductible of course."

  "I might have something for you. Meet me for dinner at Chez Pierre tonight at six."

  "Um… okay." Bev really hoped it wasn't a crazy old man or a stalker setting her up, but she couldn't risk not going, not with the shelter at stake. Any little donation helped. "How will I know you?"