Begin Again - Jennifer Probst Page 0,24

both the system and humanity. “We have a strong case, and if we can’t get her in jail, we’ll try to break her financially. Or at least make sure she can’t hoard more victims. I was able to get the temporary restraining order, so that was a turning point.”

She shook her head, and silver sequined earrings in the shape of tassels swung back and forth. “I just wish the courts would take these issues more seriously. They need bigger penalties. They need some damn judges who don’t throw the cases out! Or lawyers who don’t give up so easily.”

“Agreed,” he said. “Animal welfare isn’t the most popular segment of law. It doesn’t pay as well, and it’s definitely not glamorous, but the people who are involved give it their all. I’m actually working with the Animal Defense Fund to provide more education at the colleges and local level. Kids don’t know about the job opportunities for rescue, including law. I’ve signed on to speak in the fall to a bunch of schools to get them useful information on career fields.”

Regina stared at him for a while. Her face seemed to yield to a bit of softness. “A good idea,” she finally said. “We need better recruiting. And some damn legal support from lawyers who don’t look at our organization as some goodwill not-for-profit. We’re doing serious work. Hell, I just inherited a bunch of dogs from a puppy mill. Poor mamas never even saw grass—they were trapped in a cage being consistently bred. We’d love to shut that mill down permanently.”

Chloe jumped in. “I have some spots I can help fill with some of my fosters. Will that help?”

Regina nodded. “More than you know.”

“I may also be able to help,” Owen said. “I can reach out to my organization and see if we can assist with the case. We’ve been trying to exploit more mills—did the press get a hold of the story yet?”

“No, this was kept quiet,” Regina said.

“Blow it up.” Chloe and Regina regarded him with surprise. “Press is known to get us more supporters—the more noise the better with these cases. Do you know any reporters who’d jump on this type of story?”

“I’ve got a reporter at Huffpost who covers these cases—I’ll contact her,” Chloe said quickly.

“Good. And encourage pictures. It feels like exploitation, but this is the good kind—the more people see, the better they react, and that sometimes causes a cry for change,” Owen said.

Regina nodded, regarding him with a gleam of respect. Owen felt like he’d climbed a mountain. Something told him this woman didn’t like too many people—another human loss from volunteers who’d seen too much evil from the human race. “Thanks. I’ll contact you both tomorrow.” She glanced at both of them. “You two are a power couple. The kind we need more of.” They chatted for a while longer before Regina got called away. When he faced Chloe, she was smiling.

“You charmed her. Very few do.”

He cocked his head. “Why? She runs a thriving shelter and wears dog clothes. That’s my kind of woman.”

He relished her laughter, the sound like tinkling bells in his ears. “She’s had some run-ins with men who don’t take her seriously. Let’s just say lawyers are not her favorite.”

“Then I’m glad I get the opportunity to change her mind.”

She was looking at him like she used to. His heart hammered hard in his chest, and it took all his willpower not to move closer, cup her chin, press his lips to hers, and ease into the kiss they were both craving. He stood his ground, fighting impulse, and then Fate took a hand and changed everything.

The strains of the smoky, rich melody poured over the speakers. They both froze, the song as familiar as breath, haunting as a misty dream that made him ache all over. Couples moved to dance under the star-streaked night sky, and he stared at her, caught between the memories of the past and his fantasies for the future.

His gaze drilled into hers. “Dance with me.”

Her lips parted. “I don’t think we should.”

Owen moved on pure impulse, driven to hold her once again, while Etta James crooned At Last and spun them into a magical web. He reached out his hand to her. “Dance with me, Chloe,” he repeated.

He waited, half expecting her to walk away, leaving him alone, his hand reaching out to only empty space and a past he couldn’t overcome.

Her body shuddered as she dragged in a breath.

She placed