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“Not that I believe it, mind you, butsomethinghappened up there that night. Just be careful, I’m not sure I could cope if I lost you.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you’d be straight onto the next strapping young man who stumbled into town like the maneater you are.”
“True, you are a little old for me. What are you, forty?”
“Hey, watch it, Grandma. I’m still thirty-nine.”
She winked at him. “Exactly, too old for me.”
He shook his head, chuckling, thinking about what she’d said about Rebelle. It sounded too ridiculous to be true, no way could she have killed someone. If she had, surely she would be behind bars? Maybe he needed to speak to Blake, clearly the sheriff knew something if he had warned Will away the other day.
“Just the coffees?”
“Gimme a couple of those donuts too, I need to make a good impression.”
Ruby snorted. “I’ll say.”
She rang up the amount on the register and he paid, giving her a fifty-dollar tip before kissing her cheek again and leaving.
He got back into his car and drove out to the shelter, mulling over Ruby’s words. He didn’t believe small town gossip and, call him naïve, but he didn’t think Rebelle would harm a fly.
He glanced at the time as he turned down the dirt road towards the shelter and saw it had just turned eight. He was right on time.
When he pulled up and got out of the car, he spotted her leaning against the building, an unreadable expression on her beautiful face and a large gray Irish Wolfhound slumped at her feet. He put on his trademark smile, his heart kicking in his chest at the sight of her and grabbed the coffees and bag of donuts.
“Good morning, isn’t it a glorious day?” he called, slamming the car door with his hip. The hound got to his feet and trudged over to Will.
“You’re late,” Rebelle said, her tone flat.
“I’m right on time,” he replied.
“It’s after eight, you said seven fifty-five.”
He chuckled. “But I got coffee and donuts, that’s worth the five minutes surely?”
“I don’t like coffee and I’m not hungry.”
“Then there’s more for me,” he replied happily. He wouldn’t be deterred by her standoffish behavior. He knew she would be a challenge, but he believed she was worth it, rumored murderer or not.
“Glad to see what kind of work ethic you have,” she grunted.
He hid his smile, she clearly had no idea who he was and he had to admit it was refreshing. He damn well wasn’t afraid of hard work. “Then by all means, put me to work, beauti-Rebelle.”
Her hard stare didn’t waver, and he didn’t back down, thrilled at the eye contact. “How long will you be here today?” she asked.
“As long as you need me.”
“You have nowhere else to be?”
“Nope,” he said, his lips popped on thep.
“Fine, let’s start with cleaning out the kennels then, follow me. You can eat your donuts while I tell you what to do but don’t drop any crumbs, we have an issue with mice.”
Before he could respond she swiveled on her heel and stalked off, leaving him and the hound trailing after her. He crammed in one donut before they made it inside to the kennels and when she turned and spotted his bulging cheeks, she frowned but didn’t comment.
She took him through how to shut the dogs into their outside pen so he could have full access to the inside to clean, change bedding and replace toys. He noticed that when she did turn to look at him her eyes drifted to his mouth and then flitted away again.
“You sure you don’t want a donut?” he interrupted, holding one out to her.
