She leaned into him and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank
you.”
Unable to resist with her pressed against him, he hugged her tight, just for a few moments, before dragging himself back. The feel of her curves against him was dangerous. It had the power to make him forget they’d agreed to no lovemaking, at least until his nightmares were under control.
As he tried to catch his breath—and his train of thought—he said, “You need to get changed first?”
She glanced down at her silk blouse and knee-length skirt, so he added, “I’m not sure where we’re heading, but if a dog needs to be rescued you’ll probably want to wear clothes that you can get dirty.”
Her forehead creased for a millisecond then cleared. “Good point.”
She disappeared down the hall, and he took the couple of minutes before she reappeared in a T-shirt and loose pants to put the vegetables back in the fridge. “Ready,” she said.
He looked at the way the pants fell, accentuating her long lines and curves, and was sorry they were leaving the house. But this appeared important to her, so he shook it off, grabbed his wallet and keys, and they set off.
Once they were in the car, he backed out and swung the wheel around to head down the street. “Where am I driving?”
“The Royal Safe Haven Animal Shelter.”
An animal shelter? He’d been thinking he might need to do the rescue part and take the dog to a shelter. If they were starting at a shelter...
“Harper,” he asked mildly, “are we adopting a dog?”
“I don’t know.” She tapped her fingers on her thighs. “Maybe?”
“We’re headed for a shelter. What other option is there?”
“We could foster him until we find him a home. Or maybe we could sponsor him. Or we’ll find some other way to save him. It’s just that I heard about Frank today and knew we had to do something.”
Frank. Good, solid name for a dog. “What did you hear?”
“I don’t know much, so it might be better to wait until the shelter manager explains his story.” Her voice was confident, upbeat and probably would have convinced a jury.
“Hang on,” he said, flicking his wrist over to check his watch without losing his grip on the wheel. “Is the shelter even open now?”
“The manager said she’d still be out back doing paperwork, so she’d let us see Frank.”
He had a feeling that more was going on here than she was saying, but he had no idea what. He could press Harper and try to work it out, or he could stop worrying and simply roll with the punches. He chose the latter approach.
When they arrived at the shelter, Harper called a number, and a woman with bright red hair, green eyes and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose came out and unlocked the front door. She wore a friendly smile and a shirt with Royal Safe Haven across the pocket. “Are you Harper?”
“Yes,” Harper said brightly. “And you must be Megan. Thanks for letting us in after closing time.”
“No problem,” the woman said as she closed the door behind them again. “I have a soft spot for Frank.”
Harper glanced up at Nick, as if judging his reaction, then turned back to Megan. “Can we see him?”
“Sure. Follow me.” The shelter manager led the way past an office to a small room that had a couple of chairs and a dog bed on the floor. Over by the wall, a skinny chocolate Labrador lay with his head on his paws. “This is our meet-and-greet room. I thought I’d bring Frank down here in case you turned up.”
“You thought we wouldn’t come?” Harper asked.
“Let’s say that Frank hasn’t been too popular.” She turned to the dog. “Have you, sweetheart?”
At hearing his name, the dog moved his eyes to check without lifting his head. He clearly had little interest in what was going on around him, which seemed unusual for a Labrador, especially one who had new people to meet.
Nick crouched down, held out a hand and said, “Hey, Frank. How are you doing?”
Frank glanced over suspiciously, then went right on ignoring them. Something was very wrong.