Page 121 of Ruined Vows
“Joanne,” I say, voice low and a little awed. “I think I saw God. But it’s not what you think.”
She lets out a loud cackle, which draws a few heads from the hallway.
“Oh my god,” she laughs. Her eyes narrow on me. “You’re ruined.”
I nod solemnly. “Completely.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “And he was gentle? Didn’t break you?”
I snort. “Gentle isn’t the word I’d use. It was...intense.”
Joanne clasps her hands dramatically over her heart. “My little girl’s all grown up.”
“Shut up,” I grumble, but I’m smiling so hard it hurts. “It’s not what you think. I had him right there. He had my hands pinned over my head. I was panting, Joanne. Panting!” I raise my voice, remembering how good it felt. I was so wet, so excited, and I wanted him more than anything in the world. “But he asked if I was still pretending NOT to want him. And I said yes, then he left me. He just left me!” I all but scream. Then, I stand and pace the floor. “I thought he would fall. I had him right there and I blew it!”
Joanne kicks her feet up onto the desk, looking smug. “That’s cold. He left you? The man has a pair of steel balls,” she moans.
Her face looked like how I felt—dejected. It’s as if we’ve both been denied, and we’re both frustrated. Joanne is along for the ride, but even she is miffed by this turn of events.
“So what’s next? I take it you’re not moving in. And you’re not naming your firstborn after me,” she croaks.
I roll my eyes and clench my fists. I’m thinking. Then, I stop. I snap my fingers when it comes to me.
“Next is the date at the animal shelter.”
She sits up straighter. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I sigh. “After surviving the high seas and...everything else, we could handle some puppies.”
Joanne whistles. “You’re really putting him through that?”
“Somebody has to make sure he doesn’t get bored.” I grin, standing and grabbing my bag. I’ve regrouped—now it’s time to make him bleed. “Besides, I want to see how he handles real chaos.”
“Don’t break him, B,” Joanne calls after me. “Annihilate him, before he annihilates you.”
I throw a wink over my shoulder. “I’m on it.”
The shelter smells exactlyhow I remember it—a strange mix of disinfectant, dog shampoos, wet fur, and hope.
I step inside, and the familiar bell over the door jingles, followed by the chorus of barks immediately rising, echoing through the narrow hallway.
Vukan is right behind me, and his hand is resting affectionately on the small of my back. Oddly, it grounds me. There’s no discussion of what stands between us, as silent as a shadow, but more powerful.
“Are you sure about this, Princeza?” he asks, his voice low, sending shivers up my spine.
I nod. “I just want to see him.”
The receptionist gives me a smile of recognition and waves me through without asking questions. Vukan lingers by the desk for a moment, murmuring something I can't hear. Probably checking exits. Checking risks. Always guarding.
But for once, I don't feel like a target.
I just feel like... me.
I move past rows of cages, dogs of every size and color pressing against the bars, tails wagging, eyes hopeful.
And then I see him. Not Vukan, Meatball. The red lab from the charity event.
His tail thumps wildly against the side of his kennel when he sees me, his whole body wiggling with excitement.
