“Hi!” Tara walked around the counter and hugged the woman she considered more than a colleague. “Norah, this is my … friend–”
“Her boyfriend,” Axel said.
Ignoring him and the flutter in her stomach his words caused, she continued, “This is Axel Forrester. Axel, this is Norah. She owns the shelter.”
A trust fund baby with a heart of gold, Norah had taken the money left to her by her grandparents and opened the rescue.
Norah looked Axel over, no doubt because of their contradicting descriptions of their relationship.
“You’re the drummer from Caged Chaos and now the Original Kings,” she said, her tone and grin those of an excited fan.
“Watch it. His ego is big enough,” Tara said, laughing.
Axel walked over and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here.” Norah smiled.
“Tara was just educating me on the adopt, don’t shop philosophy, and I have to admit, now that I understand, it makes perfect sense,” he said.
Tara shot him a surprised glance. Even when he’d agreed to come to the shelter instead of the pet store, she really thought he’d been trying to make a good impression on her. Instead, he’d not only listened, he’d taken her words to heart. And her own heart squeezed in her chest.
If she wasn’t careful, he’d win her over despite all the reasons she was trying hard not to fall.
Chapter Eight
Norah pulled out paperwork and placed it on the counter. “Sorry. We’re not technology based. You’ll need to fill these out before you leave with a dog. Usually there’s a screening process, but I think we can trust the word of our resident vet.” She grinned at Tara.
“I’ll do that,” he said, picking up the pen and answering the questions as the women spoke.
“How’s the fundraising going?” Tara asked, causing his ears to perk up.
Norah let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, not as well as I’d like. I don’t want to have to close this place in the off months, but I don’t know if I can afford to keep it going if nobody pitches in.” Norah shrugged. “I put in as much money as I could on my own, but things are tight.”
“You’re having financial problems?” he asked as he scrawled his name on the final page.
Norah glanced up. “Yes. I started the shelter with my inheritance, but it’s expensive to keep the place up and running without substantial donations.” She pulled out a set of keys. “Ready to check out the dogs?”
Obviously she didn’t want to discuss her business problems, and he respected that. They followed Norah to the door leading to the back kennels.
She paused before letting them in. “So what kind of dog are you looking for? Big, small, medium? Hair, fur?”
He looked to Tara, aware he must have a confused expression on his face. He hadn’t thought about the kind of dog he wanted.
She laughed and patted his shoulder. “He loves a friend’s golden retriever, so he’s comfortable with that size and type of fur. Beyond that, let’s see who he takes to and who takes to him.”
No sooner had Norah opened the door than a cacophony of barking sounded loudly around them, all the dogs making their excited presence known.
As they walked past the runs, rooms, and cages, a knot formed in his stomach at the number of unwanted dogs. “I wish I could take them all,” he said over the noise.
Tara put her hand on his shoulder. “I know how you feel. Every time I come in to do a check on a new or sick animal, I want to bring them all home. But for now, Dakota is enough.”
“I still need to meet her,” he said, determined to be part of everything in her life.
“We’ll do that. Now look around and see who draws you.” She spoke into his ear, and his body reacted to her nearness and warm breath.
Reaching over, he slid his hand into hers. “Let’s walk.”
They passed large breeds, small and medium breeds, exuberant dogs, and dogs who hung back, watching warily. He strode up and down the aisle, taking in one side of the cages and then the other.
He paused by a solitary black and white dog with silky fur and big puppy eyes. With a black head and a white stripe along the nose and a white body, the dog was … special. Their gazes met and held.
“That’s a pointer/border collie mix,” Norah said, coming up behind them. “He’s a large breed. Currently weighs fifty-five pounds, and his name is Walter.”
As she explained, Axel and Walter experienced some kind of serious bonding moment. This dog spoke to him without words.
“He’s an owner surrender,” Norah went on. “The family had to move away and into a small apartment. Walter has a lot of energy, and they couldn’t meet his needs.”
Axel stared at the dog. “Can you open the gate?”