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Kellen rises, once again towering over me. “I’m not worried about Levi. I’m a bit more concerned he’s going to come after you. If I hadn’t been here, I bet he would have barreled through this door and found this dog.”
He points down at the cage, and I heave a sigh. “I’m trying to find a foster, but the ones I know don’t want anything to do with one of Hellman’s dogs. They’re scared of him and of getting in trouble.”
“But you’re not.” Simple statement, and not a question.
“Yes, I’m scared. Not for me, but for these dogs.”
“Quite the crusader, aren’t you?” he murmurs.
My eyes narrow at the words, choosing to ignore his soft tone. “Don’t make fun of me.”
Kellen’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he holds out his hands. “Not making fun of you at all. I admire a good crusade. Just don’t like people getting hurt while on them.”
“I won’t get hurt.”
“That man had a gun. I’m guessing that you’re messing with his profits. There are people who will harm and even kill when you mess with their money.”
I can’t argue with that. Most people wouldn’t kill, but Levi is cold and heartless. Maybe he would, but I have to believe he loves his money and fancy cars more than he loves prison.
“He’ll probably come back,” Kellen says.
I frown at the surety in his voice as he glances down at the golden retriever. “I’ll take her to my apartment above the garage.”
“I’ll take her,” Kellen says, eyes sliding back to mine.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll take her until you can find someone to adopt her,” he says easily. “She seems sweet but a little shy. Bubba’s a good boy and will give her companionship. I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to stay on this property at all.”
“Um…”
“Is she in heat?” Kellen asks. “Because Bubba-boy isn’t neutered.”
“No, and her last litter was probably only four to six weeks ago. Her mammary glands are still expressing milk and her belly skin is pretty loose.”
“Isn’t that too young to be taking puppies from their mother?”
“Physically, the puppies can survive. They start to wean around three to four weeks and are usually on solid food by five to six weeks. Socially, it’s too young, but you have pet stores buying up these puppies as fast as they can to make a profit, so they’re shipped out as soon as they can pull them from the mothers.”
Kellen grimaces and shakes his head. “Just tell me how to care for her until you can get her adopted, finish up Bubba’s discharge papers, and I’ll take her with me.”
“I couldn’t possibly impose—”
“Not imposing,” he cuts me off. “I’m insisting.”
“But… it’s illegal,” she says, leaning in to whisper.
Kellen grins, leans right back toward me. “I doubt the dogs will rat us out.”
Wow. This close and his eyes are mesmerizing. His smile is gorgeous and whatever he showered with this morning smells delicious. I try not to inhale too strongly and even step back because his presence alone is overpowering.
Not giving me a chance to argue, he unlatches the kennel door and beckons the golden retriever to come out. She needs a little encouragement, but it’s her interest in Bubba that eventually draws her. She does her high step as the tile floor feels weird under her paws and freshly cut toenails, but she should be better with this in a day or two.
“I bathed her last night,” I say as Kellen gives a command to Bubba to hold still to let the other dog sniff him. Her tail wags tentatively. “But some of her hair is so matted, I’m going to need to shave her. It will let me also make sure her skin looks okay. I was going to do it after you picked up Bubba.”
“Well, let’s get it done,” Kellen says, as if he’s officially a member of the “let’s destroy all the puppy mills” team. He squats again, this time calling softly, not to the golden but to Bubba.
I watch in amazement as Bubba comes to Kellen and the golden follows along, still curious about the big black and brown boy. Kellen uses the opportunity when the golden approaches to stroke her back gently. She jolts slightly as she turns to look at him. He talks in a low murmur, praising her beauty and sweet eyes, and within seconds, her tail is wagging hard, and she pushes in closer to him. I can’t help but laugh when she turns, positioning his hand so it scratches right at her lower spine, and whines in ecstasy. It’s probably the first time someone has shown her genuine affection for no other reason than to please her.
“What’s her name?” Kellen asks, glancing up at me.
“Number two seven one,” I reply bitterly. “At least, that’s the number tattooed on her ear.”