“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?”

She tilts her head back and forth, thinking, as we stop to let the dogs sniff a patch of grass. “It’s okay. I get paid no matter what, and that’s thanks to Lachlan’s own money. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s made a lot of smart money over the years, I think my position would be strictly volunteer.”

“And the volunteers?”

“They come and go, but we have four of them who are really committed. One used to play rugby with Lachlan years ago. Rennie.” Her eyes brighten as she says his name. “He’s away at the moment, but he’s always a big help.”

“Has Lachlan done any fundraising recently?” I ask.

“Well, he’s been away, but at the start of the rugby season there’s a gala…will you be here for that? It’s in a few weeks.”

My jaw clenches uneasily. “I’m not sure…”

“I was left in charge so I’m not sure if it will be as up to par as it normally is. Thankfully I had Lachlan’s mother, Jessica, to help. She’s usually the one planning these kinds of events. Lachlan would be lost without her when it comes to parties and mingling with the rich and famous.”

“What about, like, a rugby calendar?” I remember what Neil told me about the French ones.

She smirks at me. “Like have him pose nude to save the animals?”

I grin at the thought. “That wasn’t really what I had in mind, but hey, if I saw a calendar with him naked in it, I’d buy it. I wouldn’t care what the cause is. Women are really fucking simple.”

“That doesn’t weird you out, to have the world looking at your boyfriend’s goods?”

A thrill runs through me at the mere fact that she called him my boyfriend. Is he my boyfriend? I have no idea. But I’m not about to correct her. I like the sound of it.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with it. More reason to brag,” I add with a laugh.

We spend two hours taking various dogs for walks around the block and then some, until it’s time to clean up. Amara says that she’ll be back around eight p.m. with Charlotte, one of the other volunteers, to take the dogs for their last walk. I have to say, even though it seems hopeless in many ways for these dogs, they’re obviously taken care of very well. I shudder to think of how animals in other shelters are, especially the overcrowded ones back home with the high-kill rates.

When Amara drops me off at Lachlan’s, I let myself into his apartment, expecting to see a big mess inside. But both dogs have been well-behaved and Lionel jumps off the couch where he was snuggling with Emily, running over to me with big eyes and a wagging tail.

I crouch down and scratch behind his ears, unable to escape being licked all over my face.

“I’ll take you out in a few minutes,” I tell him, careful not to say the “W” word around him. He just stares at me with those big eyes, and I have to look away. If he was my dog, he would be so damn spoiled. Now I understand why Paris Hilton dragged that ugly Chihuahua everywhere.

I walk into the bedroom, taking off my shirt and putting on something new and fresh. I pick a black tank top cut low enough to show the top of my lacy push-up bra. My boobs have to look their best for him. The fact that right now, he’s at rugby practice, getting all hot and sweaty and manly, running other big men over with his sheer determination and brute strength, well, I’m half-tempted to bring my vibrator out of my half unpacked suitcase and get busy.