SECOND CHANCE CAFE (A Short and Sweet novella)
Chapter 1
Julie Aster sat in the middle of Queen’s Park off-leash area and leaned back on her elbows. The park was a sea of shimmering greens, glowing under the early summer sun. Turning her face towards its mid-morning warmth, she closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift. Sending the last box of lying Travis’ abandoned gear to charity closed a chapter in her life, one that her friends encouraged her to put behind her as quickly as possible. Betrayal hurt—big time—but she’d learned her lesson. She wasn’t about to forget it; not when so many lives depended on her.
Her hand reached out to pat Anna, and met empty air. Her German Shepherd never left her side without permission. Unease slithered through her mind like the beginning of a stress headache and Heaven knew she’d had enough of those in the last couple of months. Sitting up, she scanned the immediate area.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called, “Anna.” Where have you got to, girl?
Champion novice dog at puppy training school, Anna simply did not wander far from her mistress. Flutters of concern stirred in Julie’s belly and she put her fingers to her mouth and whistled. Piercing and loud, the whistle cut through the joyful shouts of a group of youngsters playing footy on the neighbouring oval.
Movement off to the side caught her eye and two streaks, one golden and the other, black, raced out of dense shade at the edge of the off-leash area, scattering a flock of wood pigeons. Not one but two dogs raced towards her.
A huge black Shepherd, the biggest Julie had seen, followed Anna across the lush green grass. Anna came straight to her and sat on her left, smiling to show she was very pleased with her discovery, or so Julie interpreted her doggie grin. The black dog dropped beside Anna. A metal, bone-shaped identity tag hung from his collar and caught the light as he turned his head towards her.
“Found a friend, did you? Where’s your owner, boy?” Julie presented her closed hand for the dog to smell then hunkered down to pat both Anna and her new friend. “He’s a handsome fellow, isn’t he, Anna? Seems like this park is doggie-dating heaven.”
A shadow fell across them and a deep voice rumbled above their heads. “Bear’s been making friends, I see, and with the best-looking females in the city.”
Tingles of awareness ran down Julie’s spine at the sound of the whisky-smooth voice. Her imagination went into overdrive, creating an image of a man to match such a voice.
Silly, you know you’ll be disappointed.
Wanting to hold onto the image a moment longer, she fiddled with Anna’s collar and patted her dog’s blonde head. Anna’s gentle chocolate-brown eyes looked up into Anna’s, and a pink tongue flicked her nose as she waited, body quivering with anticipation.
“Bear? Suits him.” Steeling herself against inevitable disappointment, her gaze lifted, following the line of a pair of denim-clad legs and Jimmy Barnes T-shirt that showed off a toned and muscled torso, and up to the face of Bear’s owner. Stubbled cheeks, and with light brown hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail, his smile was warm and open. Cinnamon-brown eyes crinkled at the corners.
Belly flutters that had subsided with Anna’s reappearance returned as full-sized butterflies swarming around their favourite plants. Ruggedly handsome in an outdoorsy way, Bear’s owner had a killer smile, and a German Shepherd. And despite the cheesy pick-up line, entries two and three on Julie’s wish list—her pre-Traviswish list—stood before her rolled into one very tall . . . and attractive package.
Add the sexy voice and she was probably drooling as much as Anna.
Julie’s hand tightened on Anna’s collar as she struggled to come up with a witty comment. Her mouth opened and closed while Bear’s owner hunkered down and wrapped an arm over his dog and stroked Anna’s head.
“Your dog is lovely. No wonder Bear was—interested.” His eyebrow rose cheekily as he stood and held out one hand. “Jack Schultz.”
She reached over Anna and shook his hand, surprised to find him towering above her. At five-feet-nine, she often looked guys directly in the eye. “I’m Julie Aster and this is Anna.”
“So, Julie and Anna Aster, can Bear and I interest you in a coffee? I spotted a van somewhere around here yesterday.”
Julie checked her watch. Currently, the coffee cart was manned by one of her volunteer staff and her shift didn’t start for another thirty minutes. “Thanks. That’d be nice. You’re new to town?” Keeping Anna at heel, Julie strolled beside Jack and Bear towards the brightly painted ‘Coffee to go’ sign.
“Yes, just arrived. I’m running the Millhouse Tavern until it sells.” They joined the short line of customers and Bear sat, head turned to Anna. Tongues hanging out, both dogs appeared to be smiling at each other.
Saturday in the park on a glorious summer day was bright with promise. For both of them. Anna had to like any guy Julie brought home and Jack and Bear had been an instant hit if the canine equivalent of sparks zapping between the dogs was any indication.
Another tick on my wish list. At this rate, I’ll have our wedding and honeymoon arranged before we finish coffee.
Travis. Don’t forget what he did to you. The snarky voice in her head wiped the smile off her face and she realised Jack was waiting for her to speak.
“Um . . . I thought the Millhouse owner went bankrupt? I mean—” Jack watched her through half-closed eyes and she bent to fold Anna’s lead under her collar. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“The owner is in financial difficulty but I’ve come in to keep the pub going and try to improve its saleability, that sort of thing.”
“So, are you a receiver?”
“Yeah.” The customers ahead of them moved off with their takeaways and he stepped up to the fold-up table that was their service counter.
Marsha, a senior high school student who volunteered every weekend, greeted them. “Hi, Julie. What can I get for you?” The teenager looked at Julie but her gaze kept flicking to Jack.
“The usual, thanks. Anna too. Ah, Jack, what would you like?”
“Espresso shot and Bear will have what Anna’s having.”
“Right away, sir.” Marsha’s gaze was pinned on Jack as she backed into Doug, another of the shelter’s volunteers who Julie had high hopes of training up to take on more responsibility.
Coffee slopped over Doug’s hand. “Hey, Marsha, babe, watch what you’re doing.” Doug flicked coffee off his hand and swiped a couple of drops from his shirt.
“Sorry, Doug.” Pink-cheeked, Marsha bit her lip and turned away to fill their order.
Marsha’s clumsiness drew the attention of three female customers in the line before the women looked back to Jack. The new arrival was sending out pheromones by the bucketful.
Julie covered a smile and reached down to stroke Anna. “Bear will love our doggie biscuits. We bake special nutritious treats each week and—”
“We? Do you work here too?”
“The coffee cart brings us extra funds, but I manage the centre and the adoption process when we make a match for our rescue animals.”
He grinned and laughter lines crinkled around his eyes. “A match as in what? A dating service for canines?”
Laughter bubbled up and burst from her lips. A sense of humour rated high and Jack had just scored another tick on her wish list. The way her libido was dancing, make that two ticks. His smile was worth an extra tick all on its own.
Whoa, girl. Remember Travis.
“Every few months we have a sort of pet parade and find new owners for as many of our rescue animals as we can.”
“Like those art shows where you ply patrons with plenty of bubbly and get them to part with megabucks?”
“We put on coffee and biscuits before the parade but no bubbly. Responsible pet ownership is important, especially for pets that have been dumped. Full information about each animal is given and we offer short counselling sessions about the care and commitment needed to take on a pet. It’s for life—at least, for the life of the pet.” Julie groaned softly. She’d just morphed into teacher mode and lectured the hottest guy she’d met since . . . forever.
Heat scorched her cheeks. Unable to meet the glazed expression she was sure he would be wearing, she reached down and patted Anna. “Sorry, I get carried away at times.”
“You’re passionate about what you do. Don’t ever apologise for that.”
She looked up. Jack’s eyes weren’t glazed over in boredom but bright with approval. Warmth zinged through her body until she was sure she would self-combust. Interest rarely met her lessons on responsible pet ownership, and Jack’s was special, not solely because appreciation rarely came her way.
“Thanks. It’s great when one of our animals finds a new home.”
“And the ones you can’t find a match for?”
Julie’s smile slipped away. The worst part of rescuing pets was knowing some of them would never find another home. “They’re euthanised after a period of waiting. The coffee van supplements the shortfall in government funding, but you’d be surprised how high costs can run. I just wish—”
“It’s not possible to save every one of them.” Understanding shaded his response and sympathy shone from his eyes.
“No. It’s not.”
Marsha placed their takeaway cups on the counter and added a plastic bowl containing six bone-shaped biscuits.
Jack glanced at her name badge with a smile. “Thanks, Marsha.”
Marsha met his gaze briefly then, with cheeks that grew pinker with each passing second, she muttered, “Enjoy your coffees,” and moved on to the next customer.
Jack stacked the cups and lifted both in one hand while Julie collected the doggie treats. She followed him to a low brick wall that offered seating in front of the derelict park café. Abandoned, she’d considered tendering for it when she’d begun at the centre. Running the animal shelter was a tightrope operation and gambling their small surplus on a risky venture—like her ex-boyfriend, Travis had done—wasn’t in her nature. Lies and more lies to cover up his losses had nearly brought her undone. She had trusted Travis, foolishly agreeing to a joint bank account, and he’d betrayed that trust.
Worse than that had been how close the shelter had come to closing because Travis had ripped off a chunk of the operating funds.
The dogs dropped in front of their humans, noses almost touching.
Jack picked up one of the dog treats and traced the stamped comment in the biscuit. “‘I love my dog.’ Cute.” He offered the biscuit and Bear took it gently.
Julie gave Anna a biscuit. Stereo crunching floated up before Julie turned her attention back to Jack. “We cook several healthy treats but these are Anna’s favourites. Looks like they’re a hit with Bear, too.”
“I must get some to take home with me.”
“Oh, we don’t have a takeaway option.”
Jack tilted his head and pinned her with a searching gaze. “Why not? It would be a great money-spinner. Pre-packaged single item or combos. Haven’t customers asked for them yet?”
“Well—yes. But all our staff are volunteers. We’d have to take on a paid part-time cook and set up a kitchen to achieve that, and I doubt we can afford to.”
“Ever heard the saying, to make money, you have to spend some? Let me put it another way, if I could show you there’s a market for homemade, takeaway dog treats, would you reconsider?” He watched her with an intensity that would usually have made her uncomfortable. Only this time, her brain whirled with possibilities. How many pets could they save if they had more funds?
Jack stood and offered a hand. Without thinking, she took it. He pulled her to her feet and headed for a tree where three older ladies sat chatting while their pets socialised at their feet. As one, the women looked up and checked out the six feet plus of delectable male heading their way.
“Good morning, ladies, lovely day, isn’t it. We’re conducting a little informal survey and wondered if you have a moment to help us out?”
“Sure, hon. What can we help you with?”
“I see your dogs are enjoying some of the coffee cart treats. Would you be interested in purchasing a regular weekly supply if they were available?”
A grey-haired woman who appeared to be the oldest of the three piped up. “I’d put in a standing order. Archie loves his oaties but it’s a long wait for him between visits. At his age, he should be enjoying them every day.”
“Thanks.”
Her companions agreed, as did most of the other dog owners they surveyed. Flutters of excitement filled Julie as she and Jack walked back to their brick perch. Their knees bumped as he sat facing her, and heat trickled through her body. Beneath his charming cinnamon gaze, she read an answering awareness before he turned away.
He began coiling and uncoiling Bear’s lead. “I reckon there’s untapped potential in your coffee cart idea. With proper advertising, takeaway treats could add to your coffers and that’s just for a start. I’ve several other ideas if you’d care to hear them. What do you think?”
Bemused by the unusual turn her morning had taken, Julie shook her head. “You’re like the answer to my prayer. Where did you come from?”
“Camooweal via Longreach,” he deadpanned, and then winked. It was the wink that won her.
“Is this the sort of thing you do when you rescue businesses?”
“Sometimes. Not that yours is in need of rescue. It looks like it’s doing well.”
“But if we can do better—”
“You can save more animals.”
“I’ll run the costs past my accountant.” Anything that would save animals’ lives had to be considered. And gorgeous Jack was like her personal knight in shining armour.
“I can run some numbers for you—if you like?” The light in his eyes suddenly dimmed as though shutters closed and he turned away.
His momentary hesitation brought her down to earth with a jolt. Who in their right mind would open their finances to a stranger? She’d only just met this guy. Seemed the thought had occurred to Jack as well.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to poke my nose into your business. Take it to your accountant.” He reached down to stroke Bear’s head, and their easy banter dried up. He tossed back his espresso and stood. Bear rose and looked up expectantly. “I only meant to give Bear a quick walk before I opened the pub. Better be on my way. I enjoyed meeting you, Julie and Anna Aster.”
“Jack, I— me, too.”
“See you around.” He strode off, Bear by his side.
As Jack left, Marsha approached and plopped down beside Julie.
“Is it my shift already?”
“Yeah. Any idea how long the hottie is staying in town?”
The hottie. Jack’s that all right. Every female in the area had cast covetous glances her way but she had claimed his full attention. Anna and me.
“Probably not long.”
Marsha turned on her phone. “Pity.”
And that thought depressed her too. He was here for the short-term only, until the tavern was back on solid ground. His work would take him away to—to blasted Camooweal or the back of beyond. And that was just as well given her good intentions not to forget the lessons learned from Travis’ betrayal seemed to have blown away on the summer breeze.
But if I had a dollar for every item Jack ticked off my list, I’d keep the centre open for a year!
“Yes, it is a pity.” Julie headed over to the coffee cart to begin her shift. She set Anna’s water bowl out behind the cart, pulled on a fresh apron and then cleaned her hands with sanitiser. Scanning the crowds, her attention snagged on the distant figures of Jack and Bear before they turned and were lost to sight.
Pity.
If Jack Schultz was as honest as he was good-looking, he ticked her wish list boxes with neon-bright, bold ticks.
Blast that list, and blast Travis for taking her optimism and trust and twisting it into something dark and shrivelled. Jack Shultz seemed decent and charming, but she wasn’t about to let him close. Her heart was under lock and key. Once burned, twice shy and all that. If Jack had ideas that could increase profits and offer future stability for the shelter, great. But nothing and no one would put the shelter in danger again.
Including her.
Read on for free on Kindle Unlimited, or purchase from Amazon: US store Australia UK
Chapter 1
Julie Aster sat in the middle of Queen’s Park off-leash area and leaned back on her elbows. The park was a sea of shimmering greens, glowing under the early summer sun. Turning her face towards its mid-morning warmth, she closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift. Sending the last box of lying Travis’ abandoned gear to charity closed a chapter in her life, one that her friends encouraged her to put behind her as quickly as possible. Betrayal hurt—big time—but she’d learned her lesson. She wasn’t about to forget it; not when so many lives depended on her.
Her hand reached out to pat Anna, and met empty air. Her German Shepherd never left her side without permission. Unease slithered through her mind like the beginning of a stress headache and Heaven knew she’d had enough of those in the last couple of months. Sitting up, she scanned the immediate area.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called, “Anna.” Where have you got to, girl?
Champion novice dog at puppy training school, Anna simply did not wander far from her mistress. Flutters of concern stirred in Julie’s belly and she put her fingers to her mouth and whistled. Piercing and loud, the whistle cut through the joyful shouts of a group of youngsters playing footy on the neighbouring oval.
Movement off to the side caught her eye and two streaks, one golden and the other, black, raced out of dense shade at the edge of the off-leash area, scattering a flock of wood pigeons. Not one but two dogs raced towards her.
A huge black Shepherd, the biggest Julie had seen, followed Anna across the lush green grass. Anna came straight to her and sat on her left, smiling to show she was very pleased with her discovery, or so Julie interpreted her doggie grin. The black dog dropped beside Anna. A metal, bone-shaped identity tag hung from his collar and caught the light as he turned his head towards her.
“Found a friend, did you? Where’s your owner, boy?” Julie presented her closed hand for the dog to smell then hunkered down to pat both Anna and her new friend. “He’s a handsome fellow, isn’t he, Anna? Seems like this park is doggie-dating heaven.”
A shadow fell across them and a deep voice rumbled above their heads. “Bear’s been making friends, I see, and with the best-looking females in the city.”
Tingles of awareness ran down Julie’s spine at the sound of the whisky-smooth voice. Her imagination went into overdrive, creating an image of a man to match such a voice.
Silly, you know you’ll be disappointed.
Wanting to hold onto the image a moment longer, she fiddled with Anna’s collar and patted her dog’s blonde head. Anna’s gentle chocolate-brown eyes looked up into Anna’s, and a pink tongue flicked her nose as she waited, body quivering with anticipation.
“Bear? Suits him.” Steeling herself against inevitable disappointment, her gaze lifted, following the line of a pair of denim-clad legs and Jimmy Barnes T-shirt that showed off a toned and muscled torso, and up to the face of Bear’s owner. Stubbled cheeks, and with light brown hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail, his smile was warm and open. Cinnamon-brown eyes crinkled at the corners.
Belly flutters that had subsided with Anna’s reappearance returned as full-sized butterflies swarming around their favourite plants. Ruggedly handsome in an outdoorsy way, Bear’s owner had a killer smile, and a German Shepherd. And despite the cheesy pick-up line, entries two and three on Julie’s wish list—her pre-Traviswish list—stood before her rolled into one very tall . . . and attractive package.
Add the sexy voice and she was probably drooling as much as Anna.
Julie’s hand tightened on Anna’s collar as she struggled to come up with a witty comment. Her mouth opened and closed while Bear’s owner hunkered down and wrapped an arm over his dog and stroked Anna’s head.
“Your dog is lovely. No wonder Bear was—interested.” His eyebrow rose cheekily as he stood and held out one hand. “Jack Schultz.”
She reached over Anna and shook his hand, surprised to find him towering above her. At five-feet-nine, she often looked guys directly in the eye. “I’m Julie Aster and this is Anna.”
“So, Julie and Anna Aster, can Bear and I interest you in a coffee? I spotted a van somewhere around here yesterday.”
Julie checked her watch. Currently, the coffee cart was manned by one of her volunteer staff and her shift didn’t start for another thirty minutes. “Thanks. That’d be nice. You’re new to town?” Keeping Anna at heel, Julie strolled beside Jack and Bear towards the brightly painted ‘Coffee to go’ sign.
“Yes, just arrived. I’m running the Millhouse Tavern until it sells.” They joined the short line of customers and Bear sat, head turned to Anna. Tongues hanging out, both dogs appeared to be smiling at each other.
Saturday in the park on a glorious summer day was bright with promise. For both of them. Anna had to like any guy Julie brought home and Jack and Bear had been an instant hit if the canine equivalent of sparks zapping between the dogs was any indication.
Another tick on my wish list. At this rate, I’ll have our wedding and honeymoon arranged before we finish coffee.
Travis. Don’t forget what he did to you. The snarky voice in her head wiped the smile off her face and she realised Jack was waiting for her to speak.
“Um . . . I thought the Millhouse owner went bankrupt? I mean—” Jack watched her through half-closed eyes and she bent to fold Anna’s lead under her collar. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“The owner is in financial difficulty but I’ve come in to keep the pub going and try to improve its saleability, that sort of thing.”
“So, are you a receiver?”
“Yeah.” The customers ahead of them moved off with their takeaways and he stepped up to the fold-up table that was their service counter.
Marsha, a senior high school student who volunteered every weekend, greeted them. “Hi, Julie. What can I get for you?” The teenager looked at Julie but her gaze kept flicking to Jack.
“The usual, thanks. Anna too. Ah, Jack, what would you like?”
“Espresso shot and Bear will have what Anna’s having.”
“Right away, sir.” Marsha’s gaze was pinned on Jack as she backed into Doug, another of the shelter’s volunteers who Julie had high hopes of training up to take on more responsibility.
Coffee slopped over Doug’s hand. “Hey, Marsha, babe, watch what you’re doing.” Doug flicked coffee off his hand and swiped a couple of drops from his shirt.
“Sorry, Doug.” Pink-cheeked, Marsha bit her lip and turned away to fill their order.
Marsha’s clumsiness drew the attention of three female customers in the line before the women looked back to Jack. The new arrival was sending out pheromones by the bucketful.
Julie covered a smile and reached down to stroke Anna. “Bear will love our doggie biscuits. We bake special nutritious treats each week and—”
“We? Do you work here too?”
“The coffee cart brings us extra funds, but I manage the centre and the adoption process when we make a match for our rescue animals.”
He grinned and laughter lines crinkled around his eyes. “A match as in what? A dating service for canines?”
Laughter bubbled up and burst from her lips. A sense of humour rated high and Jack had just scored another tick on her wish list. The way her libido was dancing, make that two ticks. His smile was worth an extra tick all on its own.
Whoa, girl. Remember Travis.
“Every few months we have a sort of pet parade and find new owners for as many of our rescue animals as we can.”
“Like those art shows where you ply patrons with plenty of bubbly and get them to part with megabucks?”
“We put on coffee and biscuits before the parade but no bubbly. Responsible pet ownership is important, especially for pets that have been dumped. Full information about each animal is given and we offer short counselling sessions about the care and commitment needed to take on a pet. It’s for life—at least, for the life of the pet.” Julie groaned softly. She’d just morphed into teacher mode and lectured the hottest guy she’d met since . . . forever.
Heat scorched her cheeks. Unable to meet the glazed expression she was sure he would be wearing, she reached down and patted Anna. “Sorry, I get carried away at times.”
“You’re passionate about what you do. Don’t ever apologise for that.”
She looked up. Jack’s eyes weren’t glazed over in boredom but bright with approval. Warmth zinged through her body until she was sure she would self-combust. Interest rarely met her lessons on responsible pet ownership, and Jack’s was special, not solely because appreciation rarely came her way.
“Thanks. It’s great when one of our animals finds a new home.”
“And the ones you can’t find a match for?”
Julie’s smile slipped away. The worst part of rescuing pets was knowing some of them would never find another home. “They’re euthanised after a period of waiting. The coffee van supplements the shortfall in government funding, but you’d be surprised how high costs can run. I just wish—”
“It’s not possible to save every one of them.” Understanding shaded his response and sympathy shone from his eyes.
“No. It’s not.”
Marsha placed their takeaway cups on the counter and added a plastic bowl containing six bone-shaped biscuits.
Jack glanced at her name badge with a smile. “Thanks, Marsha.”
Marsha met his gaze briefly then, with cheeks that grew pinker with each passing second, she muttered, “Enjoy your coffees,” and moved on to the next customer.
Jack stacked the cups and lifted both in one hand while Julie collected the doggie treats. She followed him to a low brick wall that offered seating in front of the derelict park café. Abandoned, she’d considered tendering for it when she’d begun at the centre. Running the animal shelter was a tightrope operation and gambling their small surplus on a risky venture—like her ex-boyfriend, Travis had done—wasn’t in her nature. Lies and more lies to cover up his losses had nearly brought her undone. She had trusted Travis, foolishly agreeing to a joint bank account, and he’d betrayed that trust.
Worse than that had been how close the shelter had come to closing because Travis had ripped off a chunk of the operating funds.
The dogs dropped in front of their humans, noses almost touching.
Jack picked up one of the dog treats and traced the stamped comment in the biscuit. “‘I love my dog.’ Cute.” He offered the biscuit and Bear took it gently.
Julie gave Anna a biscuit. Stereo crunching floated up before Julie turned her attention back to Jack. “We cook several healthy treats but these are Anna’s favourites. Looks like they’re a hit with Bear, too.”
“I must get some to take home with me.”
“Oh, we don’t have a takeaway option.”
Jack tilted his head and pinned her with a searching gaze. “Why not? It would be a great money-spinner. Pre-packaged single item or combos. Haven’t customers asked for them yet?”
“Well—yes. But all our staff are volunteers. We’d have to take on a paid part-time cook and set up a kitchen to achieve that, and I doubt we can afford to.”
“Ever heard the saying, to make money, you have to spend some? Let me put it another way, if I could show you there’s a market for homemade, takeaway dog treats, would you reconsider?” He watched her with an intensity that would usually have made her uncomfortable. Only this time, her brain whirled with possibilities. How many pets could they save if they had more funds?
Jack stood and offered a hand. Without thinking, she took it. He pulled her to her feet and headed for a tree where three older ladies sat chatting while their pets socialised at their feet. As one, the women looked up and checked out the six feet plus of delectable male heading their way.
“Good morning, ladies, lovely day, isn’t it. We’re conducting a little informal survey and wondered if you have a moment to help us out?”
“Sure, hon. What can we help you with?”
“I see your dogs are enjoying some of the coffee cart treats. Would you be interested in purchasing a regular weekly supply if they were available?”
A grey-haired woman who appeared to be the oldest of the three piped up. “I’d put in a standing order. Archie loves his oaties but it’s a long wait for him between visits. At his age, he should be enjoying them every day.”
“Thanks.”
Her companions agreed, as did most of the other dog owners they surveyed. Flutters of excitement filled Julie as she and Jack walked back to their brick perch. Their knees bumped as he sat facing her, and heat trickled through her body. Beneath his charming cinnamon gaze, she read an answering awareness before he turned away.
He began coiling and uncoiling Bear’s lead. “I reckon there’s untapped potential in your coffee cart idea. With proper advertising, takeaway treats could add to your coffers and that’s just for a start. I’ve several other ideas if you’d care to hear them. What do you think?”
Bemused by the unusual turn her morning had taken, Julie shook her head. “You’re like the answer to my prayer. Where did you come from?”
“Camooweal via Longreach,” he deadpanned, and then winked. It was the wink that won her.
“Is this the sort of thing you do when you rescue businesses?”
“Sometimes. Not that yours is in need of rescue. It looks like it’s doing well.”
“But if we can do better—”
“You can save more animals.”
“I’ll run the costs past my accountant.” Anything that would save animals’ lives had to be considered. And gorgeous Jack was like her personal knight in shining armour.
“I can run some numbers for you—if you like?” The light in his eyes suddenly dimmed as though shutters closed and he turned away.
His momentary hesitation brought her down to earth with a jolt. Who in their right mind would open their finances to a stranger? She’d only just met this guy. Seemed the thought had occurred to Jack as well.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to poke my nose into your business. Take it to your accountant.” He reached down to stroke Bear’s head, and their easy banter dried up. He tossed back his espresso and stood. Bear rose and looked up expectantly. “I only meant to give Bear a quick walk before I opened the pub. Better be on my way. I enjoyed meeting you, Julie and Anna Aster.”
“Jack, I— me, too.”
“See you around.” He strode off, Bear by his side.
As Jack left, Marsha approached and plopped down beside Julie.
“Is it my shift already?”
“Yeah. Any idea how long the hottie is staying in town?”
The hottie. Jack’s that all right. Every female in the area had cast covetous glances her way but she had claimed his full attention. Anna and me.
“Probably not long.”
Marsha turned on her phone. “Pity.”
And that thought depressed her too. He was here for the short-term only, until the tavern was back on solid ground. His work would take him away to—to blasted Camooweal or the back of beyond. And that was just as well given her good intentions not to forget the lessons learned from Travis’ betrayal seemed to have blown away on the summer breeze.
But if I had a dollar for every item Jack ticked off my list, I’d keep the centre open for a year!
“Yes, it is a pity.” Julie headed over to the coffee cart to begin her shift. She set Anna’s water bowl out behind the cart, pulled on a fresh apron and then cleaned her hands with sanitiser. Scanning the crowds, her attention snagged on the distant figures of Jack and Bear before they turned and were lost to sight.
Pity.
If Jack Schultz was as honest as he was good-looking, he ticked her wish list boxes with neon-bright, bold ticks.
Blast that list, and blast Travis for taking her optimism and trust and twisting it into something dark and shrivelled. Jack Shultz seemed decent and charming, but she wasn’t about to let him close. Her heart was under lock and key. Once burned, twice shy and all that. If Jack had ideas that could increase profits and offer future stability for the shelter, great. But nothing and no one would put the shelter in danger again.
Including her.
Read on for free on Kindle Unlimited, or purchase from Amazon: US store Australia UK
Chapter 1
Sydney, two years earlier
“Blue team is in position. Green team, are you set?” Paul Rimmer spoke into the comm unit on his shoulder. Having confirmed his teams were in place around the perimeter of the warehouse and the exclusive brothel owned by the Chan family, he gave the signal. Power shut down, streetlights flicked off and the Rocks area was plunged into darkness. Moments later, a rooftop generator kicked in and lights flickered on within the brothel, his team’s target.
He glanced at his watch. One minute after twenty-three hundred hours.
Breathing slowly, he used his night scope to scan the shadows between the building and the dark rocky upthrust that had given the area its name.
No movement.
More teams awaited his signal to begin a combined multi-pronged raid on the Chan mansion and three sites in Sydney from where the cartel’s illegal businesses operated.
Focused on his entry point, calm descended. He and his partner, Tamsin Westcott, had risked their lives to get information that had led to tonight’s raid. Even Tam’s twin sister had been caught up in their investigation and now, Bureau agents were about to close the net. Determined not to let a single member of the drug cartel escape, Paul checked his watch, and raised his comm unit to give the signal. “On my word . . .” He drew a deep breath. “All teams are go.”
Cordoned off and locked down, the dark streets around the warehouse and brothel exploded with dark-uniformed officers hitting their assigned points of entry.
Paul led his team through the front door. An intimately small reception area was unoccupied, but a security camera began tracking their progress before Paul shot it out. He took the entry into a spacious L-shaped club lounge. Blacked out windows were mostly hidden by heavy red drapes, while several decadently padded couches were set at strategic points around the room. All were angled towards a low dais, which Paul saw as he turned the corner into the long leg of the L.
Two men seated on couches raised their hands. Considering the girls positioned beside and behind one, with a third girl on the floor between the legs of the other man, Paul dismissed them as clients. The third girl looked up at Paul and his team and the only sound in the room was the soft pop-slurp as her lips left her client’s cock.
But they weren’t Paul’s primary target. Leaving the men and girls to be collected by the sweep team, Paul signalled his partner, Grant Perkins. They moved into position on either side of the dais, guns at the ready. A dark-green feather lay on the scuffed and polished floor.
Paul glanced back at the tableau of clients and girls and his gut tightened. The youngest of the three still knelt between her client’s knees, a boa draped around her neck.
The girls servicing the two clients were little more than teenagers, and this dais was apparently a stage for clients to view a parade of women and make their selection. Like a bloody meat mart.
Perkins led the way along a short besser-brick hallway with a single door at the far end. Unpainted and poorly lit, it was clear the hallway was only used by the working girls as a passage from the lounge to the rooms where they plied their trade. According to the building plans the door led to the business side of the brothel; a selection of theme rooms catering to all tastes and wallet sizes.
Gritting his teeth, Paul opened the fire door. Ahead lay a small, tastefully decorated foyer with six heavily carved and painted doors punctuated by another wider hallway that connected back to the lounge. Rich clients were given the royal treatment when they came into this part of the brothel. Upstairs, the Green team would be picking up clients and working girls from the cheaper rooms.
Methodically the two agents separated left and right, each taking a set of doors along one side and working their way through the rooms. Paul disturbed two men attended by a single woman in the first room; the middle room was vacant. In the third room, styled as a dungeon, a client, bound and leather-clad, was being beaten with a riding crop.
Paul turned and signalled to Perkins that he’d take the last room. Information said this was John Chan’s private room, and the last intel report had indicated he had left home for an evening at the brothel.
Moving into position, Paul pushed the door wide and did a sweep around the spacious, high-ceilinged room, finishing with his gun aimed towards a king-sized bed. A young woman sprawled naked and alone on the bed, her dark hair fanned across the pillow—beautiful and unmoving.
Not the reaction Paul expected.
Cautiously he made his way to her side and set his fingers on her neck.
No pulse.
Her wide-open eyes stared sightlessly at the distant ceiling. Partly concealed beneath her shoulder, a ripped plastic bag suggested how she’d died.
Perkins appeared in the doorway. “Anything?” He approached the bed. “Aw, shit.”
Paul gently closed her eyes. “I want Chan in handcuffs before we leave.”
“Sounds kinky, boss.”
Sometimes humour helped them confront the worst of humanity. And then there was now.
Paul gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “Not now, Perkins.”
Perkins flicked a glance at the dead girl. “You’re right. Sorry.”
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Sydney, two years earlier
“Blue team is in position. Green team, are you set?” Paul Rimmer spoke into the comm unit on his shoulder. Having confirmed his teams were in place around the perimeter of the warehouse and the exclusive brothel owned by the Chan family, he gave the signal. Power shut down, streetlights flicked off and the Rocks area was plunged into darkness. Moments later, a rooftop generator kicked in and lights flickered on within the brothel, his team’s target.
He glanced at his watch. One minute after twenty-three hundred hours.
Breathing slowly, he used his night scope to scan the shadows between the building and the dark rocky upthrust that had given the area its name.
No movement.
More teams awaited his signal to begin a combined multi-pronged raid on the Chan mansion and three sites in Sydney from where the cartel’s illegal businesses operated.
Focused on his entry point, calm descended. He and his partner, Tamsin Westcott, had risked their lives to get information that had led to tonight’s raid. Even Tam’s twin sister had been caught up in their investigation and now, Bureau agents were about to close the net. Determined not to let a single member of the drug cartel escape, Paul checked his watch, and raised his comm unit to give the signal. “On my word . . .” He drew a deep breath. “All teams are go.”
Cordoned off and locked down, the dark streets around the warehouse and brothel exploded with dark-uniformed officers hitting their assigned points of entry.
Paul led his team through the front door. An intimately small reception area was unoccupied, but a security camera began tracking their progress before Paul shot it out. He took the entry into a spacious L-shaped club lounge. Blacked out windows were mostly hidden by heavy red drapes, while several decadently padded couches were set at strategic points around the room. All were angled towards a low dais, which Paul saw as he turned the corner into the long leg of the L.
Two men seated on couches raised their hands. Considering the girls positioned beside and behind one, with a third girl on the floor between the legs of the other man, Paul dismissed them as clients. The third girl looked up at Paul and his team and the only sound in the room was the soft pop-slurp as her lips left her client’s cock.
But they weren’t Paul’s primary target. Leaving the men and girls to be collected by the sweep team, Paul signalled his partner, Grant Perkins. They moved into position on either side of the dais, guns at the ready. A dark-green feather lay on the scuffed and polished floor.
Paul glanced back at the tableau of clients and girls and his gut tightened. The youngest of the three still knelt between her client’s knees, a boa draped around her neck.
The girls servicing the two clients were little more than teenagers, and this dais was apparently a stage for clients to view a parade of women and make their selection. Like a bloody meat mart.
Perkins led the way along a short besser-brick hallway with a single door at the far end. Unpainted and poorly lit, it was clear the hallway was only used by the working girls as a passage from the lounge to the rooms where they plied their trade. According to the building plans the door led to the business side of the brothel; a selection of theme rooms catering to all tastes and wallet sizes.
Gritting his teeth, Paul opened the fire door. Ahead lay a small, tastefully decorated foyer with six heavily carved and painted doors punctuated by another wider hallway that connected back to the lounge. Rich clients were given the royal treatment when they came into this part of the brothel. Upstairs, the Green team would be picking up clients and working girls from the cheaper rooms.
Methodically the two agents separated left and right, each taking a set of doors along one side and working their way through the rooms. Paul disturbed two men attended by a single woman in the first room; the middle room was vacant. In the third room, styled as a dungeon, a client, bound and leather-clad, was being beaten with a riding crop.
Paul turned and signalled to Perkins that he’d take the last room. Information said this was John Chan’s private room, and the last intel report had indicated he had left home for an evening at the brothel.
Moving into position, Paul pushed the door wide and did a sweep around the spacious, high-ceilinged room, finishing with his gun aimed towards a king-sized bed. A young woman sprawled naked and alone on the bed, her dark hair fanned across the pillow—beautiful and unmoving.
Not the reaction Paul expected.
Cautiously he made his way to her side and set his fingers on her neck.
No pulse.
Her wide-open eyes stared sightlessly at the distant ceiling. Partly concealed beneath her shoulder, a ripped plastic bag suggested how she’d died.
Perkins appeared in the doorway. “Anything?” He approached the bed. “Aw, shit.”
Paul gently closed her eyes. “I want Chan in handcuffs before we leave.”
“Sounds kinky, boss.”
Sometimes humour helped them confront the worst of humanity. And then there was now.
Paul gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “Not now, Perkins.”
Perkins flicked a glance at the dead girl. “You’re right. Sorry.”
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