Dustin opened the door, and the noise level shot up before they even walked in. It only got louder once they did. Multiple dogs were barking at once, in several different octaves. The kennels were along one side, and the long aisle ended in a wall with multiple windows. Maisie stood close to them, giving Jack a perfect view of her as they approached.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Dustin said, then headed back to the lobby.
Maisie wore a long-sleeved T-shirt, a pair of well-worn jeans, both of which clung to every delicious curve, and navy blue rain boots. Thoughts of her unclothed curves filled his head—his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass as he pinned her to her bathroom wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist…
Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, exposing the delicate skin of her neck. Skin he remembered nipping and sucking.
Every ounce of blood in his body shot to his crotch, and he shifted uncomfortably. Not now.
But another voice insisted, She’s still interested.
He’d mulled over their interactions on Thanksgiving so many times, it was like a video clip in his mind. He only had to press play to watch it again. The way she’d touched his upper thigh at dinner, sending desire pulsing through him in a way he didn’t feel comfortable with, given how close they were to his sisters. How she’d stood so close to him after dinner, looking at him in a way that implied she’d prefer to go upstairs with him than stay for dessert. She still wanted him as much as he wanted her. Was it fair to hope she didn’t meet someone else before Iris left for college?
She was holding a garden hose and shooting a spray of water into a kennel. She seemed intent on her work, and even though it was apparent this was one of the more unglamorous jobs of running an animal shelter, he liked that she hadn’t pawned it off on someone else. Then he grinned, realizing she was probably about to.
She turned to face them, and he was once again blown away by her beauty. He’d met a lot of beautiful women, especially working as a bartender—women in slinky dresses with makeup expertly applied to accentuate their best features—but Maisie’s natural beauty captivated him in a way he scarcely understood.
“Hey,” she called out, her gaze lingering on Jack for a split second longer than necessary before she turned her full attention on Iris. “You ready to work with some dogs?”
Iris cast a glance at the empty kennel Maisie had been cleaning. “Yeah…”
Maisie laughed, and the familiarity of it did something funny to Jack’s chest. The fact that he recognized it. That he’d heard it while he had her pinned to the wall with his arms and another part of him. That it was so natural and lighthearted it made him want to hear more.
“I’m going to show you how to do this, but not today. I’m going to have you walk the dogs while I clean their kennels.” A soft smile lit up Maisie’s face. “Keeping things clean is important, but the dogs need plenty of love and attention too.”
Her gaze flicked so quickly to Jack, he almost missed it.
Maisie turned off the hose and walked to the next kennel. She grabbed a leash from a hook on the wall next to the door, then showed Iris the small whiteboard attached to the kennel gate. “These are very important. They’ll tell you the dog’s name and important information about them. This one is Pete, and you can see that he jumps up on people. Some of the boards might tell you a dog’s a biter. You steer clear of those ones, okay?”
Iris nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
Jack checked out the large black lab, who looked like he was over fifty pounds. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Iris dealing with a huge dog jumping on her.
“When he or another dog tries to jump up,” Maisie said, “turn your back to them as you say no. When he gets down, turn back around and reward him. We try to teach them how to obey commands like sit, stay, and heel, but we don’t always have enough volunteers to work with them regularly. It’s super helpful if the bigger dogs are somewhat trained so their owners can manage them. After you’ve been here for a while, we’ll teach you how to train them too.”
He liked that she didn’t say “if”—she treated it as an eventuality rather than a possibility. Like she understood the gleam in Iris’s eyes just as much as he did.
“How do I reward them?” Iris asked, her gaze on the lab, who was already jumping up against the cage, eager for attention.
“A pat on the head. Making sure you have a friendly pitch to your voice when you praise them. Sometimes treats, but it depends on the dog. We try to be careful with some of the overweight and elderly dogs, but we’ll teach you as we go,” Maisie said. “For now, I’ll show you how to deal with Pete.” She opened the kennel door and stepped inside.
Pete jumped up, his paws hitting Maisie in the chest and pushing her backward.
Maisie turned her back to the dog. He moved around her, trying to jump up again, but she repeated the maneuver, and Pete stayed down this time, nuzzling the side of her leg.
“Good boy!” Maisie said enthusiastically as she rubbed the top of the dog’s head. Then she looked up at Iris with a smile. “Okay, your turn.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Jack asked, hating to question Maisie, but the last thing he wanted was for Iris to get hurt or to have an experience that kept her from coming back.
“Are you still here, Helicopter Brother?” Maisie teased. “You can come back at five to pick her up.”
Jack’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Your job is done. You delivered her safe and sound,” Maisie said, then made a shooing motion. “Now it’s my turn. And not to worry. I’ll keep her safe and sound.” She shot him a mischievous grin. “Probably.”
Jack hesitated, and Maisie laughed. “She’ll be fine. I promise. Actually, don’t worry about coming back to get her. I’ve got to pick up Addy at your place for our girls’ night with Blue, so I can drop her off.”
Once again Jack hesitated, long enough for Iris to groan. “Jack.”
But it wasn’t the kind of groan she’d been making for the past month. She sounded more like the girl he’d known for seventeen years, not the pod person who’d shown up in her place.
“Okay,” Maisie said. “Off with you.”
“Okay…” He took a few steps backward, telling himself he was being ridiculous, but if he were honest with himself, he’d hoped to spend more time with Maisie. Sure, he couldn’t pursue a relationship with her now, but he still hoped there was a chance for them in the future. Was it wrong to want an excuse to see her? Was it fair to either of them?
He gave Iris a soft smile, but she was already opening Pete’s kennel to walk in. He caught Maisie’s eye instead. He had trouble reading the look she was giving him, but at least she didn’t seem pissed that he’d turned her down—or sort of turned her down—at Thanksgiving. He thought maybe she understood. And for now, maybe that was the best he could hope for.
Chapter Eleven
Iris was different here. The dogs brought her to life in a way the madness of a Buchanan family gathering hadn’t. And Maisie respected that. The dogs brought her to life too. She’d known that ever since Einstein had pawed at her leg, dirty and starving, beaten down by life. Helping him had given her purpose when she’d desperately needed it.
She’d let Iris show herself around mostly, recognizing that she wasn’t the kind of girl who liked being corralled, something else she appreciated, but toward the end of their time together, she herded her over to the sink next to the windows at the far end of the kennels.
“Is this where the cleaning part comes in?” Iris asked, her tone making it clear she was less than excited by the thought.
“Only for our hands. I want to introduce you to someone.”
She expected some sort of smart comment, but Iris just nodded, glancing back at Chewbacca, the part-chow, part-Chihuahua, all teddy bear dog they’d taken in a week ago.
“You’re a fan of Chewie?” Maisie said, scrubbing her hands. She pulled back, leaving the sink for Iris, who shrugged.
“He’s all right, I guess.” But the sparkle in her eyes said she thought he was a whole lot more than that. And if she weren’t already living with a dog and a hell cat, Maisie would have contemplated surprising Jack with another dog. He hadn’t reacted so badly last time, had he? There was something sweet in the way he’d left the decision to Adalia—like maybe he knew how much she needed Tyrion, and vice versa, even though he’d been halfway across the country.
After Iris had washed her hands too, Maisie led her out of the kennel and down the hall, Dustin waving jauntily at them from the front desk. He’d volunteered so much Maisie had taken him on full-time as her volunteer coordinator-slash-jack-of-all-trades. A financial crunch when they were already hurting, but she’d needed the steady help, and retiree or not, he’d made it clear he wanted to be here. Privately, she thought he enjoyed talking to the visitors as much as he liked the dogs, but she was okay with that. She didn’t feel that way, and someone had to make nice, especially with people who came in to surrender pets. Her other full-time employee, Beatrice, wasn’t much for making nice either.
She waved back to Dustin, biting her lip to hold back a laugh when he winked at Iris. She didn’t need to glance sideways to imagine the teen’s look of horror. Dustin was technically Iris’s boss, but Maisie felt no need to point that out. Because she’d decided to take Iris under her own wing.
She told herself it had nothing to do with Jack, and that was partly true—she saw herself in Iris, and she saw Molly in her too—but partly true wasn’t the same thing as totally true. She’d sent him away earlier because Iris had needed him to leave. If it had been up to her, she would have kept him around. If it had been up to her, she would have led him into the playroom and locked the door behind them.
Then again, Jack had made it very clear that nothing more could happen between them, and he was right—not just because of Iris, but because of the whole screwed-up River and Georgie wedding situation.
She’d video-chatted with her sisters again after Thanksgiving, and while Mary had essentially gaped in horror the whole time, Molly had laughed so hard she’d peed a little in her yoga pants. She’d also recorded the whole thing, insisting she wanted to write about it for her blog (with all the identifying details changed).
“Don’t you work for a dating blog?” she’d asked.
“Oh, some things are universally funny,” her sister had said. “No one would mind. Plus, Datesgiving was a huge hit. Especially that guy who brought a wishbone and insisted I break it with him, then carried his half around in his pocket all night.” A sly look had crossed her face. “Besides, you and Jack are sort of involved.”
“Is that why he cringed when I grabbed his thigh?” Of course, that wasn’t entirely true, but the outcome was the same. “You just need to accept it’s not going to happen. And so do I. It’s for the best anyway. I need to get through this wedding before I can move on.”
Mary was the one who’d responded to that, shaking her head slowly. “Maisie, Mom would have told you that you can move on any damn time you choose.”
Which was maybe the first time she’d heard her sister say “damn.”
Shaking the thoughts away, Maisie led Iris to the back office and knocked twice.
“Dustin, for the love of God, I do not want one of your stinky cheese Danishes. I do not care that someone’s filming a movie in Sylva, and I definitely don’t care that you’re wearing mismatching day-of-the-week socks. Now leave me in peace so I can crunch some numbers.”
The corners of Iris’s mouth twitched in a would-be smile, and Maisie smiled back and opened the door.
“It’s me, Beatrice.”
Beatrice shook her head in a manner that said she wasn’t appeased. “Don’t get me started on that boy. You puffed him up something good by hiring him.”
She might like to call Dustin “boy,” but Beatrice was younger than him. Not by much, but her hair was still black, interrupted by the occasional strand of silver, her dark skin barely wrinkled.
“Beatrice, this is Iris. She’s our new volunteer. And Iris, this is Beatrice. Without her, nothing would get done around here. As a rescue, we’re dependent on fundraising, and Beatrice is the one who keeps the lights on and the doors open. If you’re interested in the business aspect of the shelter, she’s the one you want to talk to.”
She hadn’t thought Iris would be interested in that, necessarily, but she only had two full-time employees, plus a part-time night manager, and she introduced all of the volunteers to them. There was another reason she’d brought Iris back to meet Beatrice, one she hadn’t fully admitted to herself.
When she’d been down, Beatrice had pulled her up. She’d helped her establish all of this. This shelter. This life. And Iris was clearly struggling too.
“I’m glad to meet you, Iris,” Beatrice said, her annoyance toward Dustin dissipating. “I work at home more often than not, but I’m always here on Thursday afternoons. And if you have any interest in the numbers, I’d welcome your help one afternoon.”
To Maisie’s surprise, Iris brightened. “Yes, I’d love that. I want to be a business major in school, and I love dogs.”
“Good for you,” Beatrice said. “Most kids don’t know their a—butts from their elbows when they start college. If you know what you want going in, you’re ahead of the rest. Are you coming in every Thursday afternoon?”
“And Tuesdays,” Iris said, giving Maisie a rebellious look. They’d only talked about Thursdays, but she wasn’t about to say no.
“Why don’t you come by next Thursday when you get in, and you can be my new protégé.” She smiled up at Maisie. “Maisie here was my first protégé, and she’s not doing too poorly for herself.”
Something like curiosity flashed in Iris’s eyes, but she shut it down quickly.
“I’d like that,” she said simply. And then, as if remembering some distant lessons of etiquette—lessons, Maisie gathered, Jack had probably taught her rather than her mother—she added, “Thank you.”
“That’s settled then,” Beatrice said. “Now, I’ll let you two go, but Maisie, you and I are going to have a serious discussion about putting locks on the office doors.”
Maisie just waved her off, knowing she actually liked Dustin. They both did.
“See you later.”
Iris didn’t talk much as they headed out to the Jeep and piled in, but she scrunched her nose against the dog smell.
“I’m surprised you’re not used to it after being in the kennels for so long,” Maisie commented.
“I’m not sure it’s the kind of thing you can get used to.”
Which was something Maisie had said herself more than once, so she just nodded. “Fair enough.”
“What did Beatrice mean,” Iris said, “about you being her protégé? Do you work on the numbers too?”
Maisie pulled out of the lot, heading toward the Buchanan house. “No, but I had to learn some things to open the shelter.” She shot a quick glance at Iris. “When my parents died, they left me that property.” Iris’s eyes rounded, but she kept going. “Well, they left it to my sisters too. They were going to flip the building and sell it. Beatrice was my mom’s best friend, and she left her job to help me start the shelter. I think she did it because she wanted to take care of me. That’s what she meant.”
Iris was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I’m sorry they’re dead.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t really have parents either,” Iris said, picking at something on her shirt. Maybe an invisible thread, but given she’d been walking dogs for almost two hours, it could very well be a rogue tuft of fur. “I only know who my dad is because I went through my mom’s phone and found his number. I…I tried to meet him, but he refused to see me. He said he only wanted to hear from me through his lawyer.”
Maisie wanted to hug her then, and maybe toss some puppies at her, but she held back, both because she was driving and because doing any of those things would surely result in Iris pu
lling away.
“That sucks,” she said, because it did. “But you have a brother who cares a lot about you.”
“Yeah, sometimes too much,” Iris said, looking up at her. Maisie only spared a quick glance at her, but there was something sharp in her eyes. A sort of scrutiny like she was studying Maisie for cues.
“Maybe he’s trying to make up for both of your parents.”
“I guess so,” Iris said, “but it would be nice if he could just settle for being my brother.”
“Give him time,” Maisie said. Truth be told, the only thing Iris could do to get Jack to back off was to be happy. But she wasn’t going to say that. Iris was too young to be burdened with that responsibility.
They were mostly quiet for the rest of the trip, although Iris surprised Maisie by asking some questions about a couple of the dogs. Chewie and the black lab she’d played with first, Pete.
“Do you think I could really help train them?” she asked as Maisie pulled into the drive.
“I do.” Maisie shot a glance at her. “I didn’t have a dog of my own until I was almost twenty, and I learned pretty quickly. You’re a quick study. You’ll learn too.”
Iris glanced at the house. “Please don’t tell Jack what I said to you. About my dad, I mean. He doesn’t know.”
Maisie mimed zipping her lips. “In the vault. And yes, I know I’m mixing metaphors. But that’s how serious I am about keeping it quiet.”
Iris nodded and then got out, heading for the door.
It came as no surprise at all when it popped open before she could get there, Jack peeking his head out like—
She stifled a laugh. Like a freaking jack-in-the-box. Probably he’d been waiting on the nearest couch the whole time Iris had been gone.
Getting Lucky (Asheville Brewing Book 3) Page 10