Page 51 of Wild Card
“Actually, I’m not on duty,” he said. “Just thought this was worth doing.”
“Wow, taking personal time to tour the animal shelter with me. I don’t know if I should be flattered you’re so invested in me or worried that you have no life.”
Dalton laughed, eyes bright, and his face more boyish than I’d ever seen it. “Yeah, that about sums up my existence. Thanks for that, Axel.”
I smirked, trying not to fidget at the distracting flutters in my gut. I really should have eaten something earlier. I was just hungry, right?
But damn it, Dalton looked way better than the ham-and-cheese I’d planned to eat for lunch.
CHAPTER 14
Dalton
I’d never spenttime around Axel when he wasn’t provoking me—either with sexual innuendo, his sketchy behavior, or both at the same damn time.
I wasn’t sure how to talk to him in a normal setting. If you could call touring an animal shelter normal.
We stood in strained silence until Sherlee Dillon, the director of the shelter, came to the lobby. She’d agreed to meet with us and discuss the animal abandonment concerns in the city.
I hadn’t brought up Axel’s specific situation. I wanted them to meet first. But now, I was second-guessing the whole idea. Axel was over six feet tall, covered in tats, and looked more like a criminal than a dog rescuer, and Sherlee was a dainty Black woman in her sixties, her hair full of strands of white, dressed in loose linen slacks and a fuchsia top that was a bright pop of color in a drab environment.
They appeared to have nothing in common.
“Sherlee, thanks for making time to see us. This is Axel Wilder.”
“Good to meet ya.” Axel’s hand dwarfed hers as they shook, and I couldn’t help but notice the tattoo on the underside of his wrist: an infinity symbol with the words Bro and Code set in each loop.
“Well, come on, then,” Sherlee said briskly, heading for the nearest door off the lobby.
We followed her inside, dozens of barks greeting us.
“These are our dogs waiting for adoption.” She waved a hand to the row of cages that extended the length of the room. “There’s far too many of them, I’m afraid. We’re at full capacity.”
“It’s a damn shame,” Axel said, crouching in front of a cage to pet the snout thrust through the bars. “They deserve better.”
“They sure do,” Sherlee said warmly, “but we do the best for them we can. Volunteers come in to play with them twice a day. They get as much love and affection as we can offer.”
Axel moved to the next cage, where a little wiener dog was whining for attention. “They know this isn’t a home, though.” He glanced over his shoulder. “It can never be the same.”
“No, it can’t,” she said softly. “Maybe you’d like to adopt?”
Axel tilted his head, looking thoughtful. “Maybe I could accommodate a few more…”
“A few?” Sherlee said, forehead creasing. “How many dogs do you have?”
“Five,” he said. “I used to have two others, but I found good homes for them.” He glanced at me. “Some kids came out to the junkyard with their dad, and it was love at first sight—for the kids and dogs, anyway. The parents were just along for the ride.”
He laughed at the memory, his face lighting up, and my heart skittered. Damn. I’d never seen this side of Axel before. Not entirely. I’d seen how he’d fight for Banshee, but not how he’d love her. And he did, didn’t he? Not just Banshee.
All of them.
He wasn’t doing anything remotely illegal—and he’d never been more dangerous to me.
“Junkyard?” Sherlee’s mouth tightened. “Wait, you’re the reason people dump their dogs outside town, aren’t you?”
“I’m the reason?” Axel said, straightening up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“People know you’ll pick them up. Instead of bringing them here where they can get proper care and medical attention?—”
