Page 84 of Beautiful Collide

This must be what heaven is.

Except for a few pesky details. Like the press. Cameras flash as the dogs run around and play.

I want to scoop one up and run off into the sunset, but instead, I stand near the edge of where we’ve set up for today’s event, trying to look like I’m in control. The truth? I’m already plotting which of these pups I’d adopt if I could.

From the corner of my eye, I see my brother. He’s shaking his head as Josie approaches him, cradling the cutest labradoodle I’ve ever seen.

“Good luck,” I call to him, fighting the urge to laugh.

“Thanks,” he mutters back, knowing full well that if Josie wants this puppy, it’s already a done deal.

“But first, before any adoption can take place, there’s a little matter of a photo shoot,” I remind him.

“I’m not doing it,” Dane grunts.

“Tell that to your girl. She signed you up,” I say, biting back a grin.

“I’m keeping my shirt on.”

“No, you’re not.” Josie bounces closer, still holding the puppy.

“Hellfire . . .”

“Don’t hellfire me, Mr. Grump. We will raise triple the money for these dogs.” She lifts the dog, her eyes practically glowing with mischief. “Please.”

“Fine,” Dane sighs, trudging off toward the photographer. The labradoodle wags its tail enthusiastically, oblivious to Dane’s suffering.

I watch them walk away, but my attention is drawn elsewhere.

Of course, it’s Hudson.

He’s dead center in the photo shoot, shirtless, holding a Maltese puppy like it’s the Cup. His grin is so annoyingly perfect that it practically blinds me. And if how handsome he is isn’t enough, he starts to nuzzle the dog.

Goddamn.

My ovaries are in full revolt. This is not fair.

No man this hot should hold a puppy. It’s basically cheating.

Next to him is Mason, the team’s second-in-command for attention-seeking antics. He’s striking a pose with a squirming beagle, laughing every time the puppy licks his face. The crowd loves it. They love them. Cameras flash as fans cheer and whistle.

If I roll my eyes any harder, they’d be in the back of my skull.

I shouldn’t be surprised. This is what Hudson does, after all.

Always the life of the party. He’s always front and center, soaking up every ounce of attention like he was born for it.

I turn to distance myself from him and find Dane still holding the puppy as if it’s radioactive.

“Can’t I just write a check?” he asks Josie, who’s now shaking her head at him with an exaggerated pout.

“He wants us to adopt him.” Oh, she’s laying it on thick, bottom lip puffed out and all.

“The team should adopt him,” Hudson says, his voice way too close for my liking.

Of course, he’s here. He’s always here. Like a shadow I can’t escape.

“I don’t think that will work; he needs an owner,” Josie says sweetly. “Like us.”

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