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Ethan shot her a grateful, albeit surprised, look. She offered a soft smile in return. To Abbie, she asked, “Is Kate already here?” referring to the groomer.
“Yep, she’s got a few ready for you. A couple of them are handfuls, giving Kate trouble, and someone dropped off a bunch of puppies a couple days ago.”
“The difficult customers are always the best,” Rue said brightly. And she meant it. For some odd reason, not every animal enjoyed being bathed, de-matted, and groomed, and many of those were still pouting for the camera. Their expressions, more often than not, were hilarious, and they actually tended to be the first adopted.
“I’m not sure I like where this is headed,” Ethan said under his breath.
Rue didn’t say a word. She knew exactly where this was headed, and the thought of sensitive, sexy Ethan cradling a freshly washed and fluffed puppy had her panties in indecently crafted knots. “You’ll love it,” she said, speaking for the both of them.
They passed the grooming area, where Kate held an angrily mewling cat under a rinse, and entered the back room together. Ethan hesitated at the sight—which was indeed pathetic—but quickly caught up. As soon as the door swung open, the saddest dog she’d ever seen—and the shelter’s only permanent resident—padded her way over, head dipped in anticipation of the attention she knew would come.
“What. Is. That?” Ethan asked.
“This is Shaggy,” Rue said, her heart swelling with love.
“That is not shaggy.” To his credit, Ethan seemed more curious than horrified, which only further endeared her to him. Most people who saw the mutt were horrified, a point that Rue now took personally. She could never give Shaggy a home, and that was probably her lone regret over her globe-trotting ways.
Rue lightly scratched the leathery, bare skin on top of Shaggy’s head. The dog had an offbeat gait and a face only a mother could love, but Rue adored her. “She’s been badly burned, and her hair won’t grow through the scar tissue, but she’s as sweet as can be. I’d adopt her myself if I thought I could provide a lifelong home, but I’m not sticking around.”
“Say it isn’t so,” Abbie said, coming through the door behind them. “Did you win the internship? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
“It’s down to the wire,” Rue said. “But if I don’t win, I won’t let that stop me.”
“I know.” Abbie shook her head. “I love that about you. And I hate that about you.” To Ethan she said, “Every time we post her pictures, we place the animals within days. She and Kate are miracle workers.”
“Almost,” Rue said. “Shaggy is the lone holdout.”
“I’d take her home myself,” Abbie said, “but my apartment has a strict no-pets policy and rent I can actually afford, so moving isn’t going to happen. Wouldn’t do us any good to both end up homeless.”
“I know,” Rue said. “She’s loved here, and that’s what counts.” She glanced at Ethan, who wore a thoughtful frown. “Okay, substitute photographer’s assistant. These photos won’t take themselves.”
He handed over her camera and watched, most likely waiting for her to tell him what to do, but the heat of his gaze on her had her almost dizzy. Her usually well-honed routine was a hot mess, but she managed to get a sheet draped and a reproduction Victorian padded bench in place. To Ethan, she said, “Can you get one of the cats? Kate can point you in the right direction.”
“Sure.” He disappeared down the hall, Shaggy staring woefully after him.
“I know,” Rue told the dog. “I kind of want to follow him around myself.”
Ethan returned a moment later, a sour-faced feline in hand. The cat had been gorgeously fluffed, although not flawlessly so. Several patches of hair were almost missing, probably where Kate had to cut out mats, but the cat still had a regal vibe going behind that foul expression.
“You’re going to make this adoptable?” Ethan asked, looking at the cat, who greeted his attention with a baleful scowl. He didn’t seem deterred, though, and Rue loved that.
