Didn’t swipe.
“Holy shit,” Eli whispered.
Salem head-butted Cole’s palm. Let him scratch behind his ears through the gap.
“Good boy.” Cole’s voice was nothing but warmth. “See? Not everyone’s going to hurt you. Wish I could take you on the road with me.”
My chest tightened. I pressed my hand to my heart.
This man. This gorgeous, kind, impossibly patient man who hauled dog food and sang to feral cats and looked at me like I mattered.
I was in so much trouble.
Cole closed the kennel gently. Salem curled into a ball, already looking less murderous.
“He’ll come around. Just needs time and consistency.” He stood, turned to us. “What else can I do?”
Eli stared. “The demon spawn likes you.”
“Animals know good people,” I said.
Cole’s eyes found mine. Held.
The moment stretched between us. Warm and loaded with everything we weren’t saying.
“Financial backer arrives in thirty minutes.” Eli clapped his hands. “Cole, you should probably...”
“I’ll grab coffee and wait in my car. Don’t want to complicate things.” He kissed my temple. His lips lingered. “You’ve got this, beautiful.”
Then, he was gone.
Eli turned to me. “Marry him.”
“Shut up.” I glared.
“I’m serious. Put a ring on that man before someone else realizes what you’ve got.”
I turned toward the doorway. “Help me make this place look presentable.”
But I was smiling.
Because Cole had shown up. For me and my messy, chaotic, beautiful world.
And I’d never wanted him more.
Chapter 6
The BluePaw Foundation site visit went better than expected, which meant only one minor disaster instead of the three I’d expected.
The disaster: Garbage decided the financial backer was his new best friend and expressed this by humping her leg with the enthusiasm of a teenager discovering the internet.
“I’m so sorry.” I wrestled fifty pounds of determined pit bull off a woman who looked like she’d seen everything and was now questioning her life choices.
“It’s fine.” Her expression suggested it was not fine. “He’s… enthusiastic.”
“That’s one word for it.” Eli appeared with treats, distracting Garbage long enough for her to escape to safer territory. “So! Want to see our new intake program?”
He was in full charm mode—the version of Eli that had talked his way out of speeding tickets and into VIP sections at clubs. It worked. By the time the backer left two hours later, she was smiling and making notes that looked suspiciously positive.
