He tilts his head, eyes wide in consideration. “To be honest, I am fucking gutted most of the time. But I understand these dogs. I know what it’s like to be cast aside, to feel unwanted, to believe you have no one to fight for you. I’ve been there. Time and time again. It hurts like hell, but if I don’t fight for them, who will?”
I stare into his eyes, completely enveloped by everything he is, and…shit.
This man.
I am so fucking in love with this man.
Then I’m hit with an aftershock, because holy shit.
Did I just admit that to myself? Did I just think that?
I did.
Luckily he’s looking back at Bubsy, that wonderful, reckless kind of hope in his eyes, another look that does me in, while I’m feeling lightheaded, breathless, unruly with the realization of my feelings.
Maybe it’s just that he’s this manly man standing in front of you, talking about how much he loves rescuing dogs, I think.
But of course it’s that. It’s many things. It’s everything.
And I’m completely head over heels in love with him.
His eyes flit to me and he frowns slightly. “There is almost always a happily ever after,” he says, and I have to blink at him to get back on track and understand what he means. “And unless we take the risk and bring them in, even if failure will break our bloody hearts, it’s worth it.”
Oh god, please don’t let him be talking in a metaphor for our own hearts.
He smiles at me and I have to look away because I can’t stand to lose my footing.
“Want to take a few for a walk? I’ll get Amara to join us.”
I nod, my tongue feeling thick, my brain stupid. Meanwhile my heart is fucking breakdancing in my chest because it’s finally discovered what love is.
The most wonderful, most terrifying feeling that life has ever had to offer.
I’m kind of in a daze when we go and get Amara. I hope I’m speaking to her correctly and making sense, because all I can really think about is Lachlan and love and that dire hope that maybe, somehow, love is something that you can turn off like a switch. Maybe this is just all lust wrapped up in a very sexy, soulful tatted bow. Maybe this is just adrenaline, the thrill of being overseas for the first time, the excitement of taking risks. Maybe it’s a lot of things.
But it doesn’t stop that feeling.
It’s a feeling you can’t even question.
Because it’s real, and it’s beating in a rhythm you never knew you could dance to, and it’s there. It is so fucking there and present and taking up every cell in my body.
I have to talk to Steph and Nicola. I have to get their advice. Coming to Scotland for hot passionate sex is one thing, but coming here and realizing you’re in love, on day one, is something else. It’s dangerous and futile and one more risk I have to take.
I can’t even snap out of it, so lost in my own thoughts, until Lachlan realizes he should head off to practice sooner rather than later. He tells me that Amara will take care of me and drop me off at his flat later. I have his spare key in my purse, just in case I’m home before him.
“See you later, love,” he says, pulling me to him, oh so gently, and leaving a lingering kiss on my lips.
I sigh against his mouth, my chest fluttering. “Okay,” I say breathlessly. “Good luck.”
He nods and leaves the shelter, and I’m just standing there like a fucking puddle of Kayla goo.
“So, who do you want?” Amara asks me, handing me a leash.
I gingerly take one in my hands, but have to shake my head to knock some sense into me. “Um, what?”
She smiles at me. She has a giant Madonna-sized gap between her front teeth that gives her this strangely sexy edge. “The dogs,” she says. “Which dog do you want to walk?”
“Oh,” I say. “Whichever one needs it most.”
“How about whatever dog is easier? Jo it is,” she says, heading over to Jo’s cage and opening the door. She waddles over to me, fat belly swinging from side to side, and immediately stares up at me like I’m going to take her home and never let her go. Even black hearts don’t stand a chance here.
“She’s Lachlan’s favorite,” Amara says, snapping the leash on Jo and giving me a knowing look. “Though I think you might be Lachlan’s favorite too.”
I look away and hope that the heat on my cheeks isn’t translating into blushing.
“Hey,” Amara says, going over to another cage. “You’re all right, yeah? It’s good. I’ve never seen him this way around anyone before. Not that there have been any anyones if you know what I mean.”
As she brings two dogs out of a communal cage, I give her a look. “Let me guess, you’re going to warn me about how brooding and difficult and quiet he is. Believe me, I know. I heard that same shit from his cousins.”
“Oh, well that’s a given,” she says lightly. “But I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily brooding—he’s just a thinker. And he’s not difficult either, he’s just honest and he knows what he’ll do and what he won’t do. Personally, I’ve always found something very noble about Lachlan, like a breed of man that doesn’t really exist anymore. I’m glad, really, to see him with someone that makes him light up. It’s about time. You meet his parents yet?”
I shake my head.
“I’m sure you will,” she says as we head out of the shelter. She stops and locks the door while the dogs all start pulling against their leashes in excitement. “They’re lovely people. They’ll just love you and the fact that you’re here.”
I give her a steady look. “Just how much do you know about why I’m here?”
She tightens the ponytail at the back of her head. “I know that he’s not the type to meet a girl and fly her over here. That says a lot about him. And the fact that you came, that says a lot about you.”
She’s a real straight shooter, this one.
“What can I say? I, uh, really like him.”
She doesn’t need to know what an understatement that is.
Her eyes squint into a smile. “I know. Ah, before we forget.” She unhooks three muzzles hanging along the wall with an array of leashes. “If the dogs aren’t muzzled, we can get in some real shite.”
She passes me the muzzle and I stare down at Jo’s beautiful, open face, the hopeful eyes and the big smile. “Seems kind of wrong to be doing this,” I tell her, fixing the muzzle on her snout, which Jo accepts without a fuss. “This is only going to make people more afraid of them. I’m pretty sure Jo wouldn’t harm a fly.”
Amara sighs as she slips them onto the others. “Yeah, well. Tell that to the government. It’s either we muzzle them or we don’t get them at all. Most people in the U.K. have preconceived notions about these dogs and the muzzles only make it worse. If only they could see them, how they can really smile, they wouldn’t be so afraid. It’s that stigma, you know, that we’re trying to work through. People want to believe the rubbish they hear about these dogs, and it’s really hard to get them to do anything but argue with you.”
“It’s the same in the States,” I tell her. “The more I’ve been with Lachlan, the more I’ve been paying attention to the media bias. If a Labrador attacks a child—which is, like, way more common than you think—it rarely makes the news, and if it does they sweep it under the rug as a ‘dog attack.’ But if it’s a pit bull, all the news stations report it with screaming headlines.” I give Amara an embarrassed smile. “I confess, the media had me totally fooled until I met Lachlan.”
She nods, putting her hands on her hips. “He might not say too much, unless you really know him of course, but if you get him talking about the dogs, he won’t shut up. He’s done so much good here. He’s very, very persuasive.”
She jerks her head toward the door and I follow her out into the streets. The dogs look terrible with the muzzles on, but at least their tails are wagging, their noses full of fresh smells.
“So how is the place doing?” I ask her curiously. “I mean, in terms of funding and all that?”