Romancing the Bachelor (A Hamilton Family 2)

She looked at him, her lips pursed. “True.”

“Well, a dog that’s suffered has had a horrible life. He’s ratty. Mangled. Scarred. Beaten. Sick.” He turned le

ft on Main Street, waving at an old lady whose will he’d worked on. She brightened, waving with excitement. “Those dogs? The ones with the mats, and the knots, and the scars, visible and invisible? They’re the ones who need a home. They’re the ones who have fought through a shitty life and deserve a good place to live. They’re the ones that need to be rescued. They’re the ones who need the life of luxury a single guy like me can give them. So I’m looking for that dog. The one that needs me to find her. And I’ll love the hell out of that dog once I do.”

She blinked. “Why do you want to do that, though?”

“I guess I just…” Telling her his inner thoughts seemed harder than it should have, and a hell of a lot more intimate than anything physical would have been. “I always had it easy, you know? I come from a wealthy family, and everything just kind of worked out for me. I think this is my way of trying to give some of that luck back to the universe. I want to pass it on to something, or someone, else and let them feel it, too. A dog that’s lived most of his life in a shelter needs that kind of luck, and I’m the kind of guy that can give it to him.”

She was silent.

Completely silent.

That silence went on for so long that when he stopped in front of the courthouse, he turned to her, half expecting her to be looking at him like he was an alien or a monster. But when he turned, she unbuckled her seat belt, closed the distance between them, and kissed his cheek. The feel of her soft lips on his skin was nothing short of miraculous.

There was no other word for it.

As she pulled back, she smiled sadly. “You’re one hell of a man, Eric Hamilton.”

“Do you want to come with me?” he asked, his heart pounding in his head, echoing. “To the shelter?”

She hesitated, her hand on the latch, staring at him like a deer in headlights. “You want me to help you pick out a dog?”

“Uh…” Well, when she said it like that, it sounded awfully relationship-y. If that was even a word. Which it wasn’t. “Never mind—”

At the same time, she said, “Okay.”

“Wait, what?” he asked quickly.

“Unless you don’t want—”

“I want.”

She opened the door. “If you’re sure.”

“Pick you up at five?”

Nodding, she got out of the car.

“Thanks, Shel.”

She leaned in. “Eric?”

“Yeah?” he asked, gripping the steering wheel as he avoided staring at the ample display of cleavage her position gave him.

“That’s what friends are for,” she said, winking and shutting the door. As she walked toward the courthouse, her hips swung, and he couldn’t look away.

Damn it.

Chapter Ten

“But he was cute,” she argued, stepping into her apartment with their take-out food slung over her wrist. “And he licked your face the second you saw him.”

“Exactly his problem.” He followed her in, shutting the door and locking it behind him. “If he’s that quick to love, he’s not the dog for me. I want one I have to win through hard work and dedication for the rest of his doggie life.”

She set the food down on her table and stared at him. “Oh my God.”

“What?” he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.