Chapter Two
Three days after one hot kiss and Shane still couldn’t shake that beautiful brunette out of his head.
What the hell?
It was eight a.m. during a training class, and he was surrounded by five new dogs and their five fairly clueless owners seeking guidance and help from him. But he was standing in the July morning sun wondering how to find Perfect Chloe. She’d never gone back into Billy’s bar—God knew he’d asked Billy enough times. A few unnecessary strolls past the Bitter Bark Bed & Breakfast offered no glimpse of her, but it felt way too stalkerish to ask Jane Gruen if someone named Chloe had checked in recently.
And that left him cold. Or hot, as the case may be. He knew nothing else about this woman from Miami who seemed interested only in what made Bitter Bark special. Then walked away when he tried to show her.
Maybe he’d lost his touch.
He snapped his fingers as if to make sure they still worked, and a schnauzer named Garfield instantly dropped the chew toy he’d been playing with, trotted to Shane, and looked up as if he was a private in the army waiting for his drill sergeant’s next instruction.
“How did you do that?” Garfield’s owner, an older woman with zero training skills, cried out in exasperation. “Are you wearing that special spray that makes dogs listen to you?”
Sure hadn’t been wearing special spray the other night, or he wouldn’t have woken up alone and wondering about a stranger every morning since.
“No pheromone juice, Mrs. Freeman. It’s all natural talent at Waterford.”
“Well, you sure are good with dogs.”
He didn’t argue. Dog whispering was his gift, one that had only been a handy hobby until three years ago, when his father convinced almost all of his kids to return to Bitter Bark and build a first-class canine training and rescue facility. Shane had walked away from practicing law and now worked as the head of civilian dog training at Waterford Farm, side by side with his father, two of his brothers, and two sisters.
Would Perfect Chloe have given him a chance if she had smelled money and a law degree instead of dogs and sweat? No doubt. With her expensive clothes and shiny hair and perfectly made-up big brown eyes, she was a judgmental woman who cared only about appearances and made assumptions about people that were wrong.
So if he’d been sitting on the other side of the bar in a two-thousand-dollar suit and a legal brief in front of him, would he have been able to get her out of those clothes and mess up that hair and see those big brown eyes spark with arousal?
Probably. And that pissed him off even more. In fact, everything pissed him off, including the fact that he’d never get another chance with her.
Mrs. Freeman got down to pet Garfield, but Shane’s attention was drawn to Rin Tin Tin, the battered yellow Jeep that they used to transport dogs to new homes or here from shelters. His younger brother Garrett was at the wheel, pulling onto the road that ran behind the kennels.
Next to Garrett, his fiancée of one month, Jessie Curtis, sat with her tan and white Aussie shepherd, Lola, on her lap. But Shane’s gaze was drawn to the back, where an unfamiliar new arrival sat on haunches, looking around.
He handed Mrs. Freeman some more treats. “Try again, but this time hold his eyes while you give Garfield the reward,” he said. “I’ll be right back. Looks like we have a new rescue I want to meet.”
Even from a distance, he could see the distinct brown and white coloring and the familiar head shape of a Staffy. He didn’t have any memory of Garrett saying he was picking up a new dog, but then Garrett had been pretty damn distracted with Jessie these past few weeks. She’d moved to Bitter Bark, got an apartment in town, and Garrett was never around the house he and Shane shared near town.
He ambled across the training area just as Garrett and Jessie climbed out. When Shane reached the Jeep, they opened the back door to let the dog out, but the new arrival didn’t move until Garrett gave permission.
“Well trained,” Shane noted, seeing now that the dog was female with stunning two-toned coloring that divided her face into an almost perfect split of chocolate and vanilla. Of course, she’d have to go through life being called a pit bull by judgmental people who made assumptions based on appearances. Like Perfect Chloe.
He shook the woman out of his brain and focused on the dog, who still hadn’t so much as barked. In a brand-new place with at least ten other dogs in sight? This one was an angel.
“What’s her name?” Shane asked, immediately coming to his knees to greet the dog.
“Daisy.”
Shane smiled and eased his hand around her head, knowing exactly how to reach without any aggression, but a steady, kind hand. “Crazy, lazy Daisy,” he said softly, holding her dark gaze to establish a bond. “Rescue?”
“Long-term boarder,” Garrett said. “Jessie and I went over to Greensboro last night to have dinner with Marie Boswell and celebrate our engagement, and we came home with Daisy.”
“Sounds like dinner with Marie.” Shane laughed, thinking of their family friend who volunteered in shelters and frequently sent dogs to Waterford for the rescue program that Garrett ran. “How long term?”
“Could be a month,” Garrett said. “Marie broke her foot, a fact she forgot to mention to me until we arrived. The woman has four dogs and can’t handle any of them until she’s out of a cast. She was able to find temporary homes for all the others, but she wanted to keep Daisy. Impossible, since this dog is incredibly active.”
“Most Staffies are,” Shane said, curling a finger around the terrier’s ear. The misunderstood Staffordshire terrier, like its cousin the American bull terrier, had been Shane’s weakness ever since…Zeus. He swallowed hard at the memory of the dog, as he always did.
No, it wasn’t fair that these dogs got saddled with a name and a bad rep. No one knew like Shane that it wasn’t the dogs that were monsters. The real animals were the people who didn’t know jack shit about them.
“She’s never been in a kennel in her life,” Garrett said. “But I couldn’t let Marie struggle with her, and Daisy wasn’t happy with no playtime.”
Shane made a face, knowing Daisy would have to be inside plenty at Waterford.
“I can keep her at night,” Shane offered, already planning to take her for long walks and Frisbee tosses. But during the day, she’d have to stay in the kennels while other dogs were training. She’d hate that, and he knew it. Being penned up during the day would make her restless and anxious, and then, if she made one mistake…someone might say it was because of her breed and not her situation. Not anyone who worked at Waterford, but a guest.
When he used both hands to rub the dog’s head, she instantly leaned forward to show her gratitude with a juicy lick on Shane’s cheek. A kisser, like all happy Staffordshire terriers.
“Good girl, Daisy.” He reached into the treat bag hanging off his pants and slipped out a tiny biscuit. She gobbled it out of his hand and rewarded him with a direct, grateful gaze and a little pant of love.
“I’m going to check her in and show her shot record to Molly,” Garrett said, referring to their sister, the Waterford vet. “Where are you going to be, Jess?”
“Lola needs some exercise,” she said. “I’ll take her down to the creek and wait for you.”
“Okay.” Garrett leaned forward to kiss Jessie on the lips. “See you in a bit.”
“Oh, the smooching,” Shane whispered to Daisy as Jessie took off. “Don’t tell me they did that all the way from Greensboro.”
“Shut up,” Garrett said, snapping a leash on Daisy’s collar. “You’re jealous.”
“Not at all.” Shane stood to look his brother in the eyes. “As a matter of fact, I was kissing someone myself recently.”
One kiss. But Garrett didn’t need to know that. Or the fact that “recently” was three days ago and he was still thinking about her.
“Someone with two legs, not four?”
“Screw you,” Shane joked. “The king of celibacy falls hard, and the rest of the world is on the receiving end of his teasing.”
“Not teasing, Shane. You should try something more than meaningless sex sometime.” Garrett’s gaze shifted to the figure of Jessie, disappearing around the tree-lined path that led to Crescent Creek. “It’s life-changing.”
“Only if you want your life to change, which I don’t.” Wouldn’t mind having his empty bed change, though.
“Hey, you two!” They turned to see their father walking across the expansive lawn behind the house where Daniel and Annie Kilcannon had raised six kids and more dogs than anyone could remember. “Have either of you seen Liam?”
“It’s explosives training today,” Shane told him, which meant the oldest Kilcannon would be far from the facility all day, doing canine bomb-sniffing training with some officers and trainee dogs.
Dad frowned, shaking his head as he came closer. “New rescue?” he asked, looking at Daisy.
“She’s Marie’s dog,” Garrett said, giving the dog’s leash a tug. “We’re boarding her for a month or so, and I have to get her checked in and over to Molly. Come on, Daisy.” He started walking, and Daisy followed at a nice, even trot.
“That’s a good girl,” Shane said, watching them go and appreciating how well trained Daisy was. If only people could see that dog when they thought of a pit bull, they’d change their stupid preconceptions in a hurry.
“That’s a happy boy,” Dad replied, his gaze on Garrett. “I really couldn’t be more pleased with Garrett’s engagement.”
Shane eyed his dad, suspecting, as they all did, that the possibility of a romance was the real reason Dad had encouraged his middle son to consent to the in-depth profile that Jessie, a journalist, had wanted to do on him. The whole thing had damn near exploded as badly as one of Liam’s sniff-training devices, though.
“So, Liam’s out all day?” Dad asked, sounding a little disappointed.
“They’ll come back for lunch, or you can text him. What’s up?”
Dad shook his head. “That won’t work. I need him this morning.”
“For what?” They all had various specialties at the facility, but most of the jobs were interchangeable. And if Dad, who was the de facto boss of all of them, needed something, Shane was always willing to help. “I’m almost done with this training round, and I can give you a hand.”
His father leaned against the split-rail fence that no longer enclosed much of anything, but it was the original fencing they’d had around the old yard when they were kids, and Dad kept it for sentimental value. He gazed at Shane, considering the offer, a frown making the creases around his eyes deeper. He didn’t look fifty-nine, nor did he act it. He sure wasn’t “an old guy,” as a judgmental stranger had called him the other night.
“I really wanted Liam,” Dad said.
“I can do anything Liam can do,” Shane said, adding a grin. “Usually better and with way more personality.”
“But you’re not the one I want.”
Shane’s competitive streak shot up his spine. “But I’m the one you got. What do you need?”
“I really believe Liam would be the right choice for this…situation.”
“For what situation?” Even in the early morning, summer heat made him sweat. Or maybe that was his frustration with Dad, who was obviously meddling, pulling strings, and being the man they called the Dogfather. He got the nickname for his love of dogs and his desire to get people to do what he wanted, like The Godfather of the Mafia. Only, Irish without the bloodshed and way more fur.
“It’s that Tourism Advisory Committee I’m on,” Dad said. “I have a conflict and need to back out of today’s meeting and, honestly, I thought it would be a good idea for Liam to take my place.”
“Liam? Don’t you have to talk in those meetings?”
Dad shot him a look. “He’s the best for this…task.”
“If the task is training German shepherds how to kill on command so we can sell them for ten grand a pop, yeah. If you need someone to represent…” Something clicked in his mind. “The tourism committee, you say? What’s this meeting about?”
Dad waved a hand as if the actual reason for the meeting wasn’t that important. “Mayor Wilkins brought her niece up from Miami, and she’s some kind of tourism expert who’s going to help Bitter Bark get more visitors.”
Oh, hello, manna from womanly heaven. I thought you’d never fall into my lap.
“Her niece from Miami?” Shane actually had to stop himself from fist-pumping in victory.
“Yeah, and she’s supposed to give some presentation at eleven today. Seems she has some ideas to help build tourism.”
“I’ll go.” Nothing would stop him, in fact.
“I really want Liam to go.”
Like hell Liam was getting near her. “Dad, you are looking at the best possible representative for Waterford Farm. I’ll be there at eleven, no worries.”
Dad lifted a brow as if he was trying to say something but didn’t want to. “Andi Rivers is on that committee.”
The architect? “Yeah? So?”
“Andi Rivers,” he repeated, as if Shane didn’t hear him the first time. “Liam’s Andi Rivers.”
Oh, so that was Dad’s game. Shane laughed softly. “Subtle, man. Unbelievably subtle.”
“I know they used to date, and I thought…”
“I know what you thought. And you need to let it go. Andi had her shot at that big dumb ox and missed it. But I, on the other hand—”
“You want to go out with Andi Rivers?”
“No. But I want…” One more shot at Perfect Chloe. If only to let her see what she missed. “I want to help Bitter Bark,” he said.
“You do?”
His father wasn’t the only one in this family who could manipulate. “This town’s in trouble, Dad. We need tourists. We need to get on the map like Asheville.”
“You sound like you were a fly on the wall at our last meeting.”
“I know what Bitter Bark needs.” He could still see her eyes light up as she grabbed his shoulders when he’d handed her…an absolutely on-the-money freaking fantastic idea. “I’m an idea guy, and you know it.” And she knew it. “I’ll be able to really judge whatever she’s presenting.”
Just like she judged him and found him…only good enough for one kiss.
“You’re right, Shane. And we’ll need more if her idea fails.”
His idea, actually. Whatever it was. “I’ll go. I have to see what she’s presenting.”
His father’s brows, still much darker than his salt-and-pepper hair, drew together. “I would never have thought you’d be so interested in Bitter Bark’s tourism program.”
He wasn’t. But he sure was interested in the tourism expert. “Count on me. I got your back.”
“All right, but…” He looked past Shane to the distant hills where the explosives-sniffing was going on. “But I like that Andi Rivers, and she got a raw deal.”
When the guy she picked over Liam was killed? “She chose poorly,” he said simply. “I’d say I’d put a good word in for him, but Dad, when are you going to quit trying to fix us all up?”
His father frowned at him. “Your mother wanted you all to be as happy as we were, and if I can help that along, then I will.”
Shane puffed out a breath, as if he had to make space in his chest as he always did at the mention of his mother, gone three years now. “Look, what you and Mom had was one in a million. A billion. Nobody else will ever get that.”
“Not with that attitude,” Dad chided with a sigh. “Okay, you are officially on the Tourism Advisory Committee, Shane. Thank you.”
He gave his father an easy pat on the shoulder. “No, thank you.”
He turned to finish the training class, unable to wipe the smile from his face. He had at least one more chance to mess up Perfect Chloe.