You Can't Hurry Love

by Lee Kilraine

  “Not if I want to keep my job.”

  “I understand.” Oh how she’d wanted an easy solution this time, one that didn’t involve breaking the law. But she understood Frank needing his job.

  “It’s possible someone forgot to lock the shelter’s back door tonight. And you never got this call.” And the line went dead.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Darn it. And darn Pope too. Jo didn’t even hesitate. Georgie was working, so she’d go it alone. And since this wasn’t her first dog-rescue rodeo, she was smarter now. She changed into her black jeans and a black T-shirt, even digging up a black winter hat to cover her light hair this time.

  She opened her door to find Paxton poised to knock. “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought I’d check on you because I knew the news about Maggie had you—” He stopped talking in midsentence and looked her up and down. He wasn’t stupid. “Again?”

  “Yes, and you can’t stop me.” She exited her house, locked her front door, then marched to her car.

  He hurried after her. “Fine. I’m going with you.”

  She spared him a glance. “Probably not the best idea for an up-and-coming attorney like you, but suit yourself.”

  Slipping behind the wheel, she slammed her door closed and started the engine as Paxton settled himself in the passenger seat.

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do.”

  “Frank Bufford called from the shelter?”

  “I can’t reveal my source.” She was careful to drive the exact speed limit and not a mile per hour over. “I didn’t bring you along to play twenty questions. Your job, should you choose to accept it, is either aiding and abetting or waiting in the car like a well-behaved accomplice.”

  * * *

  Damn. It was probably bad that he had a hard-on from all the legal terms rolling off Jo’s lips. “I’m not waiting in the car. If you go in, I go in.”

  He saw the whites of her eyes as she threw a quick glance his way.

  “I don’t do guilt, Paxton. Not anymore. But good try.” She clutched the steering wheel tighter.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her, grinning just the littlest bit that she’d caught on. “I had to take a shot. It worked before.”

  “That was the old me. New me, who’s really the old me, is no longer living life based on the stigma of impropriety or shame.” She shook her head for emphasis.

  “Which one had sex on the backseat with me?”

  “New me.”

  “And which one did I spend the night with?”

  “New.”

  “Okay, and for the trifecta, which one danced over at the Library?” Of course he knew. He just wanted everything out in the open so they could have a conversation when this whole thing was over. Once he was elected president of the bar and made partner, he’d be able to turn his attention to Jo. To the possibility of—well, he didn’t know what exactly—but something.

  “See? I knew the new me wouldn’t fit into your plans, but I like her, so just stop.” Jo huffed out a breath. “I can hear you rolling your eyes.”

  “What? I’m not rolling my eyes. I never roll my eyes. Okay, maybe once or twice, back when we used to argue, but I wasn’t.” Because he liked the new Jojo. He liked her a lot.

  They arrived at the shelter and Jo pulled her car off the road and behind some scraggy bushes. He had to give her credit; she’d learned from her mistakes the first time. The police report had detailed that her car had been parked out in the open in a tow-away zone.

  She didn’t mess around either. Before he could turn and ask her plan, she was out of the car and over at the chain-link fence. Slipping wire cutters from her back pocket, she clipped the few paltry ties that held the fencing to the post.

  Grabbing the now-free fencing with both hands, she began peeling it back. “Are you going to help or just stand there looking pretty?”

  “Sure.” Paxton stepped up beside her, seized the fencing, and added his efforts to bending it back until they could fit through. Maybe he was more bent than he’d thought because, damn, something about committing a crime with a woman you were attracted to was hot. The whole Bonnie and Clyde relationship was making sense. “You think I’m pretty?”

  “Did you hear that?”

  He froze and looked around. “No. What was it?”

  “That was me rolling my eyes.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “Let’s go.”

  Damn, she had pointy elbows. Rubbing his left side, he followed behind her through the fence and then was running along the tree line until they were even with the back door. He watched her eye the camera angle and aim for a path to avoid it. “You really have learned a lot.”

  They ended up with their backs plastered up against the building next to the employee entrance. “Do you know how to pick the lock?”

  Her eyes glittered up at him. “Not necessary.”

  What? His gaze whipped to the padlock ten inches above the doorknob. The lock was hanging wide open. Bufford. Figures Frank Bufford would help her.

  Jo whipped a pair of medical gloves from her pocket and worked her hands into them. “Sorry. I only have the one pair. Didn’t know you were tagging along, so don’t touch anything.”

  She slipped out the lock, flipped back the metal hasp, and opened the door. “Follow me.”

  He did. The cries and yelps of lonely, scared dogs assaulted his ears. Damn, he’d forgotten how painfully sad shelters were. Pull it together, Pax, and get the hell out of there.

  Of course she knew exactly where to find the dog. It was a small shelter and probably only had one cell marked for euthanasia. Again, the lock on the kennel was hanging open, but it was the three shaking dogs in the corner that held his attention.

  “Okay, I’ll pop in, grab the dog, and slip back out. You close the door as soon as I’m through.” She rolled her shoulders back and placed her hands on the gate at the ready.

  Paxton nodded, trying not to look at the dogs’ eyes. “Yep. Go ahead.”

  Jo nodded once and pushed in, went back to the corner, scooped up Maggie’s dog, and slipped back out in a blink. “All right. Shut it, lock it, and let’s go.”

  “Go ahead; I’ll be right behind.” He heard her shuffle toward the door as he grabbed the bars and slammed them home. His hand was on the lock, ready to slide it home, when he made the fatal mistake. Yep, he made eye contact.

  They stared at him, their big eyes shimmering in the dark, and didn’t make a sound. Like they knew. So fucking stoic and brave. Damn it. Paxton went back into the kennel and scooped the mutts up in his arms, juggling them as he shut and locked the kennel door from the outside.

  The damn things were shaking so hard it made his own chest ache. He made his way back down the hall and to the exit where Jo was waiting, holding the door open from the outside.

  “Did you have a problem with the lock? I thought I’d have to go back in and find you.”

  “Not a problem with the lock.” He held the dogs up for her to see. “I couldn’t leave these two behind.”

  Jo looked at him and smiled. “Aw, you’re adorable.”

  “Not adorable,” he growled, turning to shut the door and slam the lock closed. “Hell, if we’re already stealing one puppy, two more isn’t going to make a difference.”

  “Whatever you say. Let’s go.” They shuffled across to the tree line before following it back to the hole in the fence. She crouched down next to the opening. “Hand me a dog, then you go through first and I’ll pass them through to you.”

  He’d rather be the last one out, just in case they’d set off an alarm and the cops came, although if Frank had left the place unlocked, chances were he’d left the alarm off too. But he figured new Jo wouldn’t go first on the chance of leaving him holding the bag—or, in this case, the puppies. So he went.

  He handed off one trembling dog and managed to crawl through the fence with the other dog held to his chest. Jo handed the other dogs through and
Paxton left to place them on the backseat of Jo’s car. “Come on, Jo. Let’s go!”

  “I can’t. I’m stuck.”

  “What do you mean, stuck? I fit through.”

  “Stuck. S. T. U. C. K. Stu—” She stopped talking, and Paxton guessed it was because she’d heard what he’d just heard. The wail of a siren, and it was getting closer.

  Well, crap. Paxton jogged over to her, grabbed her by an arm, and pulled.

  “Ow! Stop! My hair is stuck on the fence.”

  Moving even closer until his face was next to hers, he slid his hand from her head down the long, soft strands until he found where it was caught. “Okay, give me a second.”

  He began twisting and sliding the curls loose, but nothing budged, and with each second the wail of the siren got closer.

  Jo grabbed his forearm. “I’ve got a pocket knife in the center console of my car. Go get it.”

  “No.” He kept working it as Jo clutched frantically at his chest and the red and blue lights rose up from above the tree line only a few blocks away now. “I’m not cutting your hair.”

  “Oh good grief.”

  “Aha, got it. Let’s go.” He pulled her out and they ran and slid into the car so quick it would have made Bo and Luke Duke jealous. “If there was ever a time to speed, Jojo, this is it.”

  * * *

  Pulling up to her house, Jo sat for a minute in the quiet. Even the dogs were silent, sleeping huddled together in the backseat. “Thanks for your help. But if anyone asks, I’ll deny you were there.”

  “Jo, we—”

  “No. No we.” He had big dreams he’d been working toward for years. She wasn’t going to let her choices get in his way. “I appreciate the risk you took, but you’re out of this. Now, go on, get out. I’ve got to be up early for work.”

  “Fine, but I’ll help you get them in the house.” He didn’t wait for a response, wisely exiting the car instead of pressing his argument further.

  Moving the dogs in one trip was practical, so without turning on any lights or saying a word, they gathered the puppies from the backseat and brought them into her kitchen.

  She was smart, though, and hustled Paxton right back outside. Jo felt his gaze on her, but she kept her own straight ahead.

  “Are you okay with the dogs? I can take the two I grabbed.” In the dark of her porch, his deep voice was softly sexy, the one she’d heard in her dreams all too often lately.

  Shaking her head, she looked up into his eyes. “No. I think they need each other right now.”

  His eyes searched hers. Hopefully, it was too dark for him to see that she was afraid she needed him now too.

  “Okay . . .” He hesitated with his hand reaching out to her. “I’ll call—”

  “No. Let’s just agree to be polite, casual friends and leave it at that.” She dropped her gaze to his chin because it was easier. “I mean, that’s better than where we started a few weeks ago.”

  “That’s true.” He released a slow breath. “There’s only one problem with that.”

  That got her attention and her eyes lifted to his. “What?”

  “This.” He wrapped her face in his hands and kissed her. A soft, barely there kiss that she didn’t know what to do with. It was tender and teasing. It didn’t beg, but it did ask . . . and she just didn’t have any answers for the emotions swirling around in her chest.

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “The last item on the agenda is a report on the progress of the establishment of our two newest satellite offices.” Helmut Pope sat at the head of the conference table, glancing over the latest report in his hands. “To our surprise, the office in Climax is outperforming our projections.”

  It was always nice to get noticed. Paxton had known when the firm had offered the task to him two years ago it was a test. A test of his initiative, his willingness to work hard and pay his dues, and a test of his loyalty.

  He’d seen the estimates and they hadn’t expected much to come of the office until the projected land development got underway, but the economy had all but scuttled that at least for the foreseeable future. That hadn’t stopped him from busting his ass and making connections that yielded work and loyal clients.

  “These are strong numbers, Paxton.” Helmut pulled off his reading glasses and nodded at him. “I’m sure it helps that you’ve got ties to the community, but most of your work looks to be from all across the tri-county area, so good job getting out there and selling the firm.”

  “Thank you, Helmut.”

  “Paxton, if you have time, I’d appreciate hearing what’s working for you and what isn’t.” Roger leaned forward to look at Paxton from three chairs down. “The Hickory office has been a bear to get going.”

  “Absolutely. I have time after we’re done here.”

  “That works. Thanks.”

  “That wraps up today’s meeting. Thank you all.” Helmut neatened the stack of papers in front of him and stood. “Don’t forget to sign up for the planning committee for our September retreat.”

  He tipped his head to Chloe, who sat across the table and two chairs down from him. She smiled, looking relieved to have her first meeting over. There may be perks to being the boss’s daughter, but there was always the nepotism albatross to carry around too.

  She looked tired, but Paxton figured her worry over Maggie accounted for that. Helmut appeared all business today; that was probably all bluff. A DUI was going to be a definite hurdle for their whole family to get past, but the Maggie he knew from when he and Chloe had dated was a good kid. Hopefully, she’d use this as a chance to turn her life around. Although taking her puppy to the pound sounded like a harsh and vindictive punishment.

  Was it a knee-jerk reaction from a scared parent? One he’d come to regret as Maggie’s situation stabilized? He didn’t know yet, but it had him looking at Helmut with a more critical eye now.

  Paxton rose and left the conference room to track down Roger. He was happy to share what worked with him, but Roger wasn’t going to be too excited to hear it. Because there was no magic trick other than connecting with the people on a personal level and growing that over time into understanding what a potential client needs.

  “Paxton?” Helmut’s secretary called him over.

  “Hey, Sasha. How are your twins doing?” Her twins were just over two, so he figured dealing with thirty lawyers was like a vacation some days.

  “Healthy but wild heathens.” She laughed. “Thanks for asking.”

  “I’m half of a former wild heathen twin set. You have my every sympathy.”

  “Mr. Pope would like to see you. Go right on in.”

  Knocking once, Paxton entered Pope’s office and took the time to glance around the space. He’d been in the office plenty of times, but it never got old. The senior partner’s office was spacious and tastefully elegant. Its large, dark wood desk and soft leather furniture conveyed power and wealth. The view of the city from the tenth-floor window was inspiring. It reminded Paxton of sitting in his uncle’s office all those years ago, where his dreams first had formed.

  “Paxton, come in and sit down.” Helmut waved him in and sat back fully in his tufted leather chair. “I wanted to tell you again how much it means to the firm when one of our associates makes us look good.”

  “I appreciate it, sir.” His fears of being out of sight at the satellite office could finally be laid to rest after the pat on the back during the meeting.

  “I see you’ve been busy.” Sliding on his glasses to look over a file, he began reading from the list, “Active on two bar association committees, a mock trial mentor for the local collegiate debate team, chair of the Wills for Heroes. I could go on.”

  “Yes, sir. My mother always said if I stayed busy, I’d stay out of trouble.”

  Helmut bobbed his head. “I’m impressed. Your loyalty to the firm and hard work has been noticed. I’d even go as far as saying your name is in the top three when we discuss the
next wave of partners. Keep up the good work, Paxton.”

  Paxton left the office and the firm’s monthly meeting feeling both satisfied and frustrated. Between D.C. and now back in Climax, he’d worked very hard toward his ultimate goal. He was still years away from a judgeship, but knowing that following the strategic vision he’d laid out for his long-term career goals was actually producing fruit was gratifying.

  On the other hand, after the talk with his father the other day, Paxton had spent time reevaluating his goals. While he’d decided to stay the course for now, he had a growing awareness that what he wanted had changed. That said, he’d invested two years of hard work in the firm and was reluctant to make any sudden decisions that might burn a bridge that couldn’t be rebuilt.

  * * *

  Jolene stood in the bakery’s kitchen attempting to fight off another yawn and failed. She’d decided this morning that three cups of coffee would be the magic number and turned to pour another cup.

  “What is up with you today, Jo? What shenanigans kept you up past your ten o’clock bed time?” Georgie grinned at her across the stainless-steel workstation.

  “Oh, you know me, a little B and E, steal a puppy or three, and break the speed limit to evade the police.” Jo took a sip of her coffee. “You know, normal stuff.”

  Georgie laughed, but the expression on Jo’s face silenced her. “Oh my God, you’re serious. Don’t tell me the man dropped that poor puppy off at the pound again.”

  “You know he did.”

  “Why am I always working? I’d have been Thelma to your Louise.” She threw the dough she was kneading forcefully onto the surface in front of her, causing a small cloud of flour dust to puff up. “Dang it, Jo. I’m sorry you had to deal with that alone again.”

  “I wasn’t alone.” Setting her empty coffee mug to the side, Jo went back to scooping out the peanut butter cookie dough. “Paxton was with me.”