Lucas blinked, then pulled that easy, charming grin back into place. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, though. He turned away to retrieve his camera case. “Sure. Just forgot about something I have to take care of. Nothing big.”
Ryder didn’t know how he knew Lucas was lying, but he was sure of it.
Lucas glanced over at Ritz one last time before turning away. “See you around,” he said.
“Sure. Another time.” Ryder nodded and smiled, but it felt as fake as Lucas’s looked. Disappointment swirled through him as he watched the man stroll away, but the spark of concern wouldn’t die. Not his problem. Forget about it. Ritz bumped against his leg, and he looked down to see his dog staring up at him with that wide, endlessly joyful expression.
“Come on, Ritzy. Let’s go home and forget all about this crazy day.” He had a feeling it would be easier said than done.
Chapter 3
Lucas
The scent of fresh kibble and warm dog fur hit Lucas the second he stepped into the shelter. Unlike the one back in his hometown, this one didn’t reek of bleach and animal waste. Greta, the director, was super serious about regular cleaning and only used this pet-friendly Rescue cleaner to sanitize everything.
Lucas took a deep breath as he strode across the lobby, feeling a tiny bit of stress lift from his shoulders. After moving to the small town, he knew he’d have to work to find friends. Most of the ones from before lingered after high school or were connected to his family. His social life was a blank slate here, and getting involved with the shelter made sense.
Despite the overwhelming amount of rejection in his life lately, he could always count on pure acceptance here. Dogs didn’t judge, and neither did Greta. She didn’t hover or engage in mind-numbing small talk, either.
A chorus of excited barking erupted as he eased the door to the kennels open. A few curious kittens pressed their noses against the plexiglass of their enclosures at the far end of the room. They were adorable, all round eyes and quivering whiskers, but Lucas was a dog person.
“About time you showed up,” a voice called from the end of the row. Greta, a stocky, gray-haired woman in a long-sleeve t-shirt, stood up and walked over. “Settling in a new charge. Someone dropped him off last night in front of the place… just tied him to the mailbox and left him there.” She shook her head, lips pressed tightly together.
Before he could do more than frown and grumble, she waved him back toward her office. “I need your help.”
“Does it involve me rolling around in a pile of puppies trying to get the perfect photo again? ‘Cause I’m down for that anytime.” He sat across from her as she settled behind the messy desk. Besides a clunky old computer, it held random papers, Ziploc bags with dog biscuits in them, and a few worn leashes.
“Maybe.” Her grin disappeared as quickly as it came. “We need money.”
All the weight of the stress slammed back onto his shoulders. He knew exactly what it felt like to run out of resources. At least he didn’t have dozens of other mouths to feed. He’d pay a tithe to the shelter if he could, but he wasn’t in any position to donate more than his time.
“We get a trickle of donation on the website regularly, but we need more. Something fresh that’ll bring in big bucks.” She turned her head toward the rows of kennels in the back. “We get more animals all the time, and we can’t turn them away. Ican’t let them go…” Her voice trailed off, but Lucas knew what she meant. The last option for unwanted dogs and cats was the pound and a quick death.
His knee bounced as he leaned forward. “Do you have any ideas?”
“I have two.” Her lips twisted again, but instead of the cheerful smile she saved for new pet parents and the animals themselves, she smirked. “One, we go door to door begging people for money with the cutest puppies and kittens we can find. Two…”
She paused and took a deep breath. “Well, my nephew’s a firefighter in Arizona. His station did one of those, you know, beefcake calendars. Shirtless men posing with big fire hoses. They made thousands for their department. My sister said they sold out almost immediately online, and they had to do a second printing.”
Lucas’s eyes popped wide. “You have a secret lineup of hot men willing to pose shirtless for the shelter? And women… not shirtless, I mean.”
Greta snickered. “Nope, and I doubt anyone wants to see Mike oiled up and posing with kittens. I’m certainly not going to sell calendars.” Mike, a friendly volunteer who socialized cats at least once a week, was at least seventy.
“Okay, so no beefcakes.” Lucas smiled and gave a dramatic wink. “But firefighters with animals could work well. Or any first responders. We could even do a dual fundraiser for the shelter and their departments. More marketing.”
She tilted her head, lips pressed together as she considered Lucas’s suggestion.
He leaned forward, mind spinning with staging, poses, and camera angles. “Think about it. Cops, firefighters, and EMTs holding tiny kittens or playing with rescue dogs. It’s wholesome,heartwarming, and it still has the ‘hot people with cute animals’ factor.”
“That’s… actually a great idea.”
“It’s brilliant. People eat that kind of thing up, and it’s really inexpensive to print them and handle orders online. We can highlight local heroes, get the community involved, and boost visibility for the adoptable pets.”
“Damn, Lucas. I think we’re onto something here.” Greta pulled a pad of paper out from under the dog treats. “I’ll reach out to the police chief and fire captain to see if they’d like to get involved. You can handle the EMT station.”
“Wait, me? I thought maybe I’d just take the photos.”
Without looking up from the paper, Greta nodded. “Oh, yeah, we need you for that, too.”
