Page 120 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

Then again, the same applied to Dex. Not that he was wiggling, but he clearly seemed eager. I could just bet his knee was jiggling, as it often was.

“Why are you bringing your dog to the pet event?” I asked as I hurried down the stairs.

He was already getting out to come take my bag.

Where had he come from? I knew from the other women in Designing Women that finding a man with manners today was just about as rare as seeing multiple shooting stars in one night.

Probably rarer.

“So, we can make sure Bob likes the new dog!” Berry offered from the backseat, grabbing the back of the passenger seat for support for her endless bouncing.

I tried to frown at Dex but it was basically impossible. His windswept dark hair and dancing green eyes just teased a smile free as if I had no control over my own facial features. “Have you been encouraging her?”

“I would never. Hi. You look beautiful.” He leaned down to kiss me as he nimbly took my bag before I could even put up a token protest.

Another thing he made sure to do a lot—kiss me and hug me and generally be super affectionate in front of Berry. She still made puking sounds, but they were beginning to get further and further apart.

I looked down at my simple dark blue dress in deference to the cool, breezy morning and started to blow him off. Then I decided to shut the hell up. “Thank you?”

He laughed. “Better. Next time leave off the question mark.” He nudged me ahead of him so he could discreetly swat my ass before he opened the passenger door with a flourish as he always did.

The backside swat was a new, not unwelcome addition.

I got in the car and put on my belt—after admonishing Berry to do the same—and then sang along to whatever was on the radio, mostly without fully realizing I was doing it. That was also definitely new.

This happiness thing was kind of amazing.

“Okay, do we need a snack before the shelter?”

Berry snuggled Bob into her chest. “Bob says yes.”

“What does Bob want?”

“A burger and fries. The kind that comes with a toy,” Berry announced as I laughed.

After a quick spin through the drive-thru of the restaurant with golden arches, we ate in the parking lot with no concern about fries falling to the floor or wrappers ending up where they shouldn’t.

Dex only fed me six or seven fries. They tasted better when he did.

He fed Bob about five and Berry gave him double that.

To the sounds of Berry slurping her small milkshake, we pulled into the shelter’s nearly full parking lot. Dex actually had to circle around a few times to find a spot. “That’s good for the pets hopefully,” I commented, instead of a concern that Berry would be high on sugar for the afternoon.

Brand-new, easygoing Shelby, trying very hard to report for duty against all odds.

Berry clipped on Bob’s leash and then we made our way into Kitten Around, using the side entrance that was for staff. Lots of people called out greetings to Dex and he showed us where to go to get the smocks we would wear, name tags included. Our name tags just said staff instead of our names, but Berry kept pointing to the tag as if she was official now.

In no time, we were learning the ropes from the other volunteers and organizers, as well as given tasks to perform. Berry was made the door greeter on account of her cuteness—I was told that from one of the senior volunteer coordinators—and Dex got right to work cleaning out cat stalls as if he was happy as could be doing manual labor.

No one would ever know the guy had serious money. He was just as at home sweeping up dirty floors or cleaning smelly litter boxes as he was getting to know adorable kittens and puppies that were up for adoption.

Mostly, I wandered back and forth getting to know each of the animals in cages or being shown off in small groups while also keeping an eye on Bob, making sure he stayed as chilled out as he’d been pre-event.

An all-natural dog treat with calming properties helped with that, just in case.

I lost track of time helping with all the cute pets and just as cute children who wanted to hug and kiss and sometimes inappropriately grab the pets looking for homes. I was trying to extricate a tiny puppy from a pair of twin girls who were on the verge of coming to blows over who would get to hold him first when a loudly clearing throat made me look up—and I nearly dropped the squirming puppy I’d rescued.

“Shelby, it is you.” My ex-husband cleared his throat again and linked his hands behind his back. No chance of seeing him wielding a broom, that was for sure. “This didn’t seem like your sort of milieu.”

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