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“And I actually knowthatalready,” she replied mockingly. “But foryou—"
Rafe leaned in closer, his face inches from Abbe's, and his voice dropped to an amused growl. "Are you implying that I, in particular, wouldn't be a good pet owner?"
Abbe ignored the shiver that went down her back as they locked eyes. "From what I've seen and heard of you, yes, I am."
The tension in the room was palpable, a silent battle of wills. Abbe was overly aware of the fact that he was taking deep breaths and that a flush had risen across his high cheekbones. The air around him suddenly smelled spicy, not in a heavy way like cologne, but from something lighter like his soap. Abbe leaned back, aware of the fact that she had allowed herself to waver a little too close to him.
Rafe's lips curled into a sardonic smile, his pride wounded from her last remark. “What have you seen and heard of me, then?” he asked.
“Well, for one thing, you proved you aren’t patient, seeing as how you couldn’t even wait for an appointment,” she said with a snark.
He burst out laughing. "Like you would know anything about patience. How old are you? Eighteen?"
Abbe scoffed. “I’m twenty-six, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Well, you look like you’re eighteen,” he replied, tilting his head to the side. “Though I’m quite glad you’re not.”
Abbe’s jaw dropped at how brazenly he was appraising her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been looked up and down in such a blatant way. “Who the hell do you think you are?” she said, her voice rising.
Rafe laughed.
Abbe's eyes blazed with determination. "I think it’s time for you to go.”
“I think it’s time for you to take a deep breath and just let me have my dog,” he retorted.
“Yourdog. I can’teven,” Abbe huffed while he watched her, looking amused.
“C’mon, swear at me. Call me an asshole,” he goaded. “You know you want to.”
“Would you please just go!” she said, pointing at the front door.
Rafe made a rumbly, frustrated sound, pushing himself up from the floor. "Fine," he muttered, his voice dripping with irritation. “But I’d like to point out thatnotallowing people to adopt dogs is a terrible way to run anadoptioncenter. No wonder you’re about to get shut down.”
With that, Rafe stormed out of the shelter, the door slamming shut behind him.
Abbe stood there, her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of relief and anger coursing through her veins.
“Unbelievable,” she said to the calico who was strutting by her. Mabel sat down across from Abbe and started licking a paw, supremely unconcerned with her caretaker’s raging emotions. Abbe took a few deep breaths and looked down at her hands. They were shaking. “Ridiculous,” she said to them. “What a jerk, right? Such a horrible human being.”
Mabel stopped grooming to look at her pointedly. Then she stood and strutted from the room, apparently finished with this one-way conversation.
As the dust settled and the tension of their encounter began to dissipate, Abbe couldn't help but wonder if she had just made a terrible mistake. But she couldn't allow herself to second-guess her judgment, not when the welfare of her animals was at stake. She was determined to protect them, even if it meant clashing with someone as infuriating as Rafe—what kind of a name was Rafe, anyway? It was a rich person's name, she guessed. Abbe climbed the stairs to check on the cats before her next appointment, trying to put the whole unpleasant episode out of her mind.
Three
Sunday, Abbe had a chance to sleep in. Not that it helped. She kept having dreams about a dark-haired, blue-eyed man—dreams that were anything but restful. She awoke with an image of his hands on her breasts and his thigh between her legs, and groaned when she realized who was starring in her erotic dream.
She threw back the covers on her bed, irritated more with herself than anything. She wasnotattracted to men who were jerks, no matter what her subconscious said. Sure, he was one of the most gorgeous men she’d laid eyes on in a while, but that did not mean she was attracted to him. Abbe laughed ruefully as she hauled herself out of bed to brush her teeth. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe she just needed sex. It had been way too long.
Charles and Steven were caring for the animals that day, and handling the adoption appointments until after lunch. Abbe could have taken more time before coming in, but the truth was, she needed someone to vent to. She went in at around eleven, bearing sandwiches and iced teas for her friends.
While Charles had his lunch and Steven took the big dogs out for their walk, Abbe told him about her encounter with the absolutely horrendous man who had insulted her and whom she had thrown out the day before.
“He was so entitled. He would have made for such a bad dog owner,” she finished.
“Just awful,” Charles tisked. “Some people think dogs are just toys or trophies.”
“That’s exactly it!” she agreed, already feeling better. “And he wantedDaisy. I mean, of all the dogs to choose from.”
