Chapter 6
brAXTON
Wednesday morning, I’m sitting on the floor of Hades’ kennel, giving him a good scratch under his chin when his thick, pink, slobbery tongue swipes across my cheek.
The two-year-old, eighty-pound American bulldog is as beefy as they come, but the only scary thing about this big boy is the amount of drool he produces. Hades is my favourite dog at the shelter and the one I spend the most time with. By far.
When I was first looking for potential locations for my clinic, I had wanted a blank slate.
An empty building that screamed at me with potential.
Of what could be with a bit of hard work.
So, when my Realtor showed me what used to be Danver’s Animal Clinic and shelter, I wasn’t sold on the idea.
Not only was it already a running business with old patients, but there was a full animal shelter attached to the back.
Running two businesses was never the plan—even one was stretching it—but as terrified as I was at the idea, one look at the adorable faces in the pens was all it took to have me signing the papers.
I’ve always loved animals. Even growing up without any pets—my sister is allergic to anything with fur—I always found a way to feed my obsession, whether that was spending my weekends in high school working at a horse ranch or staying too long after class cuddling the librarian’s emotional support cat.
A career where I get to spend hours upon hours every single day with animals was a no-brainer. Having this small piece of heaven attached to my clinic is just a bonus.
“He almost got in the pool today,” a soft voice says. I look up to find Sadie, the shelter manager, staring down at Hades and me from outside the kennel. Her brown eyes are warm as she takes in our position.
Sadie has been taking care of the shelter for as long as the place has been open, so when I bought it, I made sure she got to keep her job. Nobody knows these animals better than she does.
I move my hand behind Hades’ ear and give him a kiss between the eyes. “That’s a good boy, Hades.”
“He’ll get there eventually. I know he will.”
“Has anyone shown any interest recently? I know we haven’t had a chance to chat in a few days.” Hope leaches from every word. Hope that he’ll finally find a family who wants him and that one day the tortures of his past won’t haunt him so deeply.
“No. Not yet. He’s been through too much,” she sighs.
My stomach rolls at the reminder of everything my boy has lived through in only two years of life.
He was brought to the clinic on my second official day as owner by a teenage boy who said he found him broken and bleeding on the side of the road only a few streets over from what the police later found to be a dog fighting ring.
The extent of his injuries had me struggling to keep my breakfast down as I got to work.
Despite the depth of his physical injuries, his trauma was almost worse.
For the first few days after I fixed him up, he wouldn’t move from the corner of his kennel and growled at the first sign of human life.
Of course, that didn’t stop me from personally bringing his meals in every morning and evening and trying like hell to prove that I wasn’t going to hurt him.
Finally, after a couple of weeks, he started to warm up to me.
Each day is a new opportunity to prove my loyalty and show that he is safe here—something I put my everything into.
Unfortunately, even though he trusts and seems to care for me, it won’t be easy to find a family that would be willing to put in the kind of work that I am. Even if beneath all of his battle wounds and big teeth, he’s just a puppy who wants to be loved.
I try not to let myself dwell on that, though. When the time is right, Hades will find a family that will do anything to see his tail wag and those chops spread into his all-too-doggie grin. Instead, I focus on the small win of him considering jumping in the pool today.
He’s not ready to play with the other dogs yet, and he might never be, but knowing that he’s trying to overcome his fear of water makes me proud.
We figure he was punished with water sometime in his life, which has led to his fear of it now, so we’ve never pushed.
But gosh, he’s thinking about trying. I’m grinning when he takes another swipe at my face, and his tongue slips into my mouth.
I crinkle my face in disgust and use the neck of my shirt to wipe at my face. “You’re gross, Hades. And your breath stinks.”
He cocks his head at me as Sadie laughs. “Feel free to try and give his teeth a brush. Sparkling white teeth will give a good first impression to the people coming by soon.”
My brows pinch. “Who’s coming? A potential family?”
“Did you check your email this morning?”
I smile sheepishly. “No. I had a crap weekend and dove right into work these past couple days. What did I miss?”
“You remember when I told you about the fundraisers and adoption day that we’ve always put on for the shelter every summer? To raise money and bring in some potential families?” she asks.
“Yes. The one in June.” It’s still two months away, but I’ve already made a note about it in my planner. “Do you need help with it? I was already planning on putting aside some time to help, but we can always hire a few people if you feel we need it. I’m really looking forward to this.”
Sadie flushes a deep pink and takes her turn looking sheepish. “Actually, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about later, but it’s not what was in the email. What I wrote you this weekend was that we’re getting help fr—”
Suddenly, Hades turns rigid, and his hackles rise. His pretty brown eyes focus on the door connecting the clinic to the shelter, and my body flushes cold. Not good. Softly, I place my palm to his side and hold it there.
Deep voices rattle from behind the door before it’s pushed open and two men tumble inside.
Hades shifts his body until he’s standing between my stretched legs, his body hiding me and stopping my ability to see the newcomers.
I pat his chest and press my cheek to his side, knowing that if I attempt to get up and create distance between us, he’ll most likely revert back to some sort of aggression.
“Oh! You’re early,” Sadie says. Nerves vibrate in her words. “I’m the manager of the shelter, Sadie.”
“Right. We talked on the phone,” the first man says, sounding confident and sure of himself. It’s too early to tell if that’s a good or bad thing.
“I’m Bentley. It’s nice to meet you, Sadie,” the other voice says. This one is just as deep, but it’s kinder.
“Likewise,” she returns.
“Our third musketeer is just on the phone in the clinic. The woman at the desk said it was okay to come back here while we wait,” Bentley says.
There’s a third man? What is this about? It sounds like I’m going to spend the next few minutes drowning in testosterone. Hard pass.
“Who’s killer and long legs over there?” the first man asks, and I’m immediately on the defense.
With a soft nudge, I move Hades out of the way just enough so that I can peek around his muscled shoulders and glance at the two men ruining my after-work cuddle.
“First of all, he’s not a ki—” I start, only to have my throat seize around the rest of my sentence when my gaze falls on none other than Douglas Trelix.
A tsunami of emotions rushes at me as I plant my hands to the cold floor in a desperate attempt to remind myself that I’m on solid ground and not in fact being sucked up in a death wave.
I haven’t heard his voice since I was eighteen, but even so, I should have recognized it.
“Braxton,” he says, looking far from shocked at seeing me here. His lack of surprise is almost as concerning as him being here in the first place. “Is that your dog?”
It’s now that I realize Hades has sensed my panic and is nudging my chin with his wet snout. I bury my fingers in his neck and take a deep breath.
“He’s a shelter dog. But since the shelter is mine, yes, he’s mine.”
I move my attention to this Bentley person when he says, “He reminds me of a dog I had growing up. Protective as fuck.”
Bentley is a massive man, with broad shoulders and tree trunks for thighs that could probably crush a watermelon with little effort. Just thinking about how many hours he must spend in the gym has my muscles aching.
He has dark skin, a sharp jaw, and a small silver hoop in his left earlobe. But despite his intimidating size, his smile is soft, almost calming. I take a liking to him immediately.
Looking away from him, I slant a curious look at Douglas. “What are you doing here?” Is he here? Is he the man on the phone?
I feel light-headed.
Douglas pushes a contemplating hand down his face and then tugs on his beard. “Do you intend to sit on the ground for this conversation?”
“Would you prefer Hades take a bite out of those expensive leather loafers of yours instead?”
“Fine. Have it your way,” he mutters gruffly.
“Great. What are you doing here? I doubt either of you has ever stepped foot in an animal shelter, let alone one as small as ours.”
Bentley clears his throat, earning a glare from everyone in the room. “Sorry, but how do you two know each other? I’m feeling very out of the loop right now, and I don’t like being out of the loop. I like being in the loop, preferably dead smack in the centre of it.”
I double blink at him. “I don’t mean to be rude, but who exactly are you, Bentley?”
His lips part in surprise, and he stares at me intently, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m playing him. “Serious?”
“Dead.”
He’s about to speak when the door opens, and the world stills around me.
My pulse feels like a jackhammer in my skull as I stare with quickly blurring eyes at the bottom half of the new arrival.
At a pair of tight blue jeans wrapped around thick, powerful thighs and clinched to narrow hips.
I don’t have to look up at the man to know who it is.
If the sudden change in the atmosphere wasn’t enough, the throbbing in my chest is.
Like two pieces of the same whole that have been kept apart for too long, my half cries out for his, begging and pleading to be mended back together again.
His voice moves through me like a serrated blade. “Braxton?”
As if someone just punched me in the stomach, the air is pushed up and out of me, leaving me gasping.
Gripping onto my last ounce of willpower, I ignore him and reach to the side to grab Hades’ leash from the ground.
I hook him up with shaking hands before pushing to my feet.
Self-preservation tells me to get out of there while I still have my dignity, but his angry laugh makes me freeze.
“Running away again? I see not much has changed.”
And just like that, I look up, and our eyes meet.