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“Yes, but—” she stammered, her armload squeaking ridiculously as she trailed along behind them. Jinx followed along behind her, yapping at the big man. He was extremely fit. Abbe could see the taunt curve of his pectoral muscles straining against the drapey material of his expensive t-shirt.
“Do you keep the cats with the dogs?” he asked, sounding disapproving.
“Of course not. Cats upstairs, dogs down—excuse me!” she tried again. She dumped the chew toys into their basket outside the kennels and picked up Jinx who calmed down but shook angrily in her arms. “You can’t go in there without me!”
She ran around in front of him to make his stop and he nearly ran into her.
He was a lot taller close up, she thought. Which she instantly dismissed as a ridiculous observation. Everyone was taller close up. It just seemed like there was more of him than there was of other people. He was so solid, so confident, that he simply took up more space.
“These dogs are either elderly or sickly,” she said, not allowing herself to be intimidated by this big man. “They get tired easily and they need lots of time to rest. And I need time to clean up after them. So please come back when you have an appointment. What’s your name?”
“Rafe,” he said quietly. “And you’re Abbe.”
The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine. “Y-yes,” she stammered. “How do you know me?”
Half of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “Well, I mean, you’re all over social media. Anyway, since I’m already here, would it be okay if I looked at some of the dogs?” he plowed on as he brushed right past her. Abbe put Jinx in his kennel and sighed heavily, praying for calm. “The ones in their kennels are sleeping, but you can come into the back sunroom. There are a few dogs there,” she replied, even though she had already decided she would rather eat glass than give one of her dogs to this jerk. She wouldn’t give someonethisinsensitive a pet rock.
She led him out to the converted sunroom that adjoined the huge backyard where several of the dogs were playing with each other in their enclosure. She watched Rafe critically, her arms folded tightly across her chest as he surveyed the sunroom and the two-acre area in the back that was reserved for the animals. The sunlight filtering through the large windows made his dark hair shine as if it had been kissed by firelight. But Abbe wasn't fooled. His confident strides, and the way he glanced around like he was assessing a five-star hotel, irked her to no end.
“That’s a lot of real estate,” he remarked.
“Yes,” she snapped, eager for him to take the hint and go.
“How often do you clean the kennels?" Rafe inquired, his tone suggesting he already knew the answer but was keen on testing her.
Abbe clenched her jaw to keep from snapping. "We maintain a strict cleaning schedule here, sir. Our animals are our top priority."
Rafe's lips quirked into a condescending half-smile. "Sir? Wow, you really know how to charm a potential client, don't you?"
Abbe's cheeks flushed with frustration, and she bit her tongue to avoid saying something she'd regret. She had learned to handle difficult visitors, but there was something about Rafe that set her on edge.
Rafe’s gaze fixed on the elderly Golden Retriever named Daisy, who had clearly seen better days. The old dog lay on a worn-out blanket, her grey muzzle contrasting with her still-bright eyes. Abbe had a soft spot for seniors like Daisy, and she couldn't stand the thought of Rafe adopting her just to neglect her.
Daisy was the gentlest dog. She was such a sweetie that even the cats were attracted to her. Right now, a calico named Mabel was curled up next to Daisy in the sunshine, rolled over on her back and purring. Abbe had no idea how the calico had gotten down here, but cats were like that. They went where they wanted when they wanted and they didn’t care much that they had the entire upstairs to themselves. Especially Mabel, Abbe had noticed. She seemed to prefer dogs to cats, at least when she wanted to take a nap.
Rafe crouched down beside Daisy, examining her as if she were a rare gem on display. She looked back up at him and ducked her head to be pet. He obliged, smiling softly. The sweet moment was quickly soured.
"This one," he declared, looking up at Abbe, "I think she'll do.”
Do? She’ddo? Abbe's temper was running thin. "Daisy is a senior with health issues, and she requires extra care, patience, and love. Are you prepared for that?"
Rafe raised an eyebrow, his arrogance undiminished. “Abby, I know how to take care of a dog."
Abbe found herself scoffing inwardly. She had a gut feeling that Rafe was more interested in impressing someone with his ability to care for a dog than in actually providing the love and attention Daisy needed.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think you're the right fit for Daisy," Abbe finally said, her voice steady despite her frustration.
Rafe's eyes flared with indignation. “Why not?"
“Look, I run this shelter, and I have a responsibility to ensure our animals go to loving, appropriate homes," Abbe retorted, her tone firm. “Do you have small children at home? A wife?”
She didn’t know why she threw that last bit about a wife in. She shook it off, pretending it mattered.
He narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a lazy smile. “No kids. Never married. And since you’re collecting my dating stats, I’m thirty-two, six-foot-one, and weigh 185.” He grinned.
Abbe’s face flushed scarlet. “I didn’t ask for your dating stats… that’s not… I don’t care if you’re…” she stammered, before pulling herself together. “This dog was surrendered because the owners, who loved her very much by the way, had their third child in four years, and the two toddler boys were trying to saddle her up and ride her. Her hip got dislocated and she had to have surgery. Sometimes what youthinkmight be a great environment for a dog—kids, a family—aren’t actually appropriate for a dog in Daisy’s condition.”
He frowned with concern, glancing at Daisy, but quickly reverted to his belligerent self. “I actually know that already. You’re not the only person who’s ever had dogs, you know.”
