Page 52 of Wild Card
“I take care of all the dogs I take in. They have regular visits to the vet.”
“Still, it encourages bad habits,” she said. “Can’t you see that?”
Axel’s eyes sparked hot, and I stepped between them.
“That’s why we’re here, Sherlee. Maybe we can go somewhere and talk about a solution?” Axel looked ready to blow a gasket, so I added, “One that works for you both.”
She gave me a clipped nod and started toward the door.
“Hang on a second,” Axel said.
Sherlee and I watched while he continued down the row of cages, giving a pat, stroke, or quiet word to every dog there.
“His heart is certainly in the right place,” Sherlee murmured.
“Yeah,” I said. “He loves those dogs he takes in. They’re happy critters.”
“Well, that’s something,” she allowed. “I don’t condone folks dumping their pets on the side of the road?—”
“Neither do I,” Axel said as he reached us. “But it was a problem long before I started taking pets in. My foster dad used to haul them over to the shelter, and…” He waved behind him. “You’re full capacity as it is.”
“You’re right about that,” she said with a sigh. “They come in faster than we can place them.”
I reached past her to open the door. “Seems like you need to expand?”
“I wish we could.” She shook her head as she led us across the lobby and down a short hallway. “We’ve got a small conference room over here. Would either of you like a drink?”
“Coffee would be great,” I said.
“Just a water,” Axel said. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She loosened up enough to smile at him again. It was obvious to me that Sherlee and Axel were kindred spirits. They both wanted what was best for these animals, but they were on two different sides of the same issue.
While Sherlee went to fetch drinks, Axel turned to me. “She doesn’t like what I do, but I’m saving the shelter more expense.”
I nodded. “Sherlee just doesn’t want owners to think it’s okay to dump their pets that way.”
“Neither do I,” Axel said. “But I can’t stand the idea of them in cages like that. When I was a kid, my foster dad took me along once when he brought in a stray. He showed me all the pets they took in because I was upset about dropping off the little mangy mutt we’d found. But all I could think when I saw the cages was, what if that was me?”
“You?”
“I was a foster kid, Dalton. I was abandoned just like those pups. More than once.”
“Oh, Axel…”
I couldn’t help the sympathy that leaked into my tone. My heart squeezed tight, and suddenly, the hard man beside me was small and soft, afraid that he, too, could be relegated to a cage because nobody wanted him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he groused. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I know. You’re a huge pain in the ass. I get it.”
“Not yet.” His scowl transformed into a sinful smile. “But I sure could be.” He followed the statement with an outrageous wink.
My stomach fluttered nervously. Axel was using sex as armor. It didn’t take a psychology degree to figure out he was deflecting the conversation.
But damn, it was working.
I licked my dry lips. “I thought you already got what you wanted from me.”
