Dead Pretty - Samantha Towle Page 0,35

Strong and gentle, waiting for me.

I feel like this is a now-or-never moment.

Why now, I don’t know.

But I feel that if I take his hand and go forward with this date, then there is no turning back for me.

I pull in a breath on a long blink. Then, I tug my glove off and put my hand in Jack’s.

Smiling, he curls his fingers around mine. I lift my eyes to his.

He gives my hand a light squeeze. “Let’s go in.”

I let Jack lead me inside.

We walk into the reception area. The woman standing behind the desk—who I would guess is in her fifties with her graying light-brown hair tied back in a ponytail and surprisingly tanned skin for where we live—smiles widely when she sees Jack.

I know, lady. He has that effect on all of us.

“Hey, Jack,” she says.

“Afternoon, Shelly,” he greets her. “How are you today?”

“I’m good. So, you’ve brought us another victim,” she says chirpily.

I flinch internally at her word choice—victim.

It’s stupid that I can still be affected by a single word related to my past, but I am.

Thankfully, I’m a lot better at hiding my emotions than I once was.

“Another victim?” I question quietly at his side.

He glances down at me, a smile touching his lips. “You’re my first, I swear.”

His attention turns back to Shelly. “Yep. I got you another walker. This is Audrey,” he tells her. “Audrey, meet Shelly.”

“Hi,” I say.

“You walked rescue dogs before?” she asks me.

“Nope. Total newbie.”

“No worries at all,” she says kindly. “It’s just the same as walking any regular dogs—with just a few rules.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll bring her up to speed,” Jack tells Shelly.

She nods. “Well, I just need you to fill out this form, so I can add you to our system.” She slides a form across the counter along with a pen. “I’ll go ready the dogs for you while you fill this out.”

Picking up the pen, I stare down at the form. It’s nothing major, just basic information—name, address, phone number, questions, like if I’ve ever been charged with animal cruelty. The sort of things you would expect from an animal rescue center.

But that last question sticks out to me.

No, I’ve never been cruel to an animal. I never would be. I love animals.

But animals were killed because some psycho thought it was a way to declare his twisted-up sense of love for me.

I always fear that another animal could die again because of me.

Another person.

I guess finding that rat in my apartment the other day had bothered me even more than I realized.

Sighing, I start filling out the form.

I put the pen down when I’m finished completing it and look up and to my right to find Jack leaning against the wall, watching me.

“You’re staring again.”

He shrugs, unbothered.

I like that about him. How he’s unafraid to show what he’s feeling or thinking. Literally nothing seems to faze him.

“Did I get this wrong?” he asks softly.

His question surprises me.

“Get what wrong?” I turn my body toward his.

“The date. Bringing you here. Should I have taken you elsewhere?”

“No.” I frown. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you look unhappy.”

“I always look unhappy. I have resting bitch face,” I try to joke.

He pushes off the wall and takes a step closer, leaning his forearms on the counter. “Did I get this wrong, Audrey?” he asks me again.

Only … I feel like he’s also asking me something else, but I’m not sure exactly what that is.

So, I answer the one question I know for sure he asked me.

I shake my head. “No, Jack. If anything, you got it too right.”

“Here we are.” Shelly’s voice comes from behind me along with the sound of claws skittering across the hardwood floor.

I turn and see the two cutest dogs ever.

One is a Weimaraner, and the other is a gray-and-white Siberian husky with the brightest blue eyes that I have ever seen on an animal before. They actually remind me of Jack’s eyes.

Both dogs are wearing luminous vests that say Adopt Me on them.

How anyone could ever abandon these beautiful dogs, I will never know.

They’re both eager to come over to us, but Shelly has a good handle on them, considering they’re strong dogs.

I get down to my knees as they approach, giving them both strokes and fusses, getting face licks in return, making me laugh.

I like animals so much better than people.

Well, maybe except for the guy standing beside me. But I’m not even allowing my thoughts to go there. Not right now anyway.