Puppy Love (19 page)

It took a lot of self-control to stop myself from giggling at his use of the word “bitch,” even though I knew it was a totally legit term for a female dog.

“Wow,” I said, trying to sound mature and not at all giggly. “You sure know a lot about the competition.”

Once again, he looked slightly surprised. “Of course. That's the only way to do well, right? Anyway, I've been working really hard with Lark on the seesaw, which has always been her toughest element. I think she's ready to surprise some people today.”

We continued chatting about that day's competition as he drove to his house. Well, mostly he continued chatting about it, while I nodded a lot and did my best to hold on to Muckle, who naturally would have preferred to go boinging around the van.

Adam lived in an older neighborhood of large brick homes near MVHS. He left me in the van with the engine running while he dashed inside, returning moments later with Shasta and Lark at
his heels. He opened the back door and the border collies jumped in. Muckle barked, the border collies barked back, and the whole van echoed like a giant tin can for a while. Adam didn't seem to notice as he jumped back in and pulled away from the curb.

“So Jinx isn't coming along today?” I asked, raising my voice above the barking.

“No, he's not reliable off leash,” Adam replied. “I didn't want you to have to keep track of another dog while I'm competing.”

“Oh.” I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for the lively terrier.

Adam seemed to catch my tone. He glanced over at me. “Don't worry,” he said with a smile. “Jinx will get his turn. We've got a flyball club meeting tonight.”

“Flyball?” I'd heard him mention that before. From my Internet research, I knew it was a dog sport. But that was about all I knew.

He returned his gaze to the road. “It's a blast,” he said. “Jinx is the height dog on our team—that's what we call the shortest dog, since it's how they decide the height of the jumps for the whole team, and . . .”

With that, he was off and running again. We spent the rest of the drive discussing all the intricacies of flyball. I hadn't known it had that many intricacies, actually. But it was interesting. Sort of.

Finally we pulled into the parking lot of Riverside High School, which was a couple of towns over from Maple View. “Is this where the competition is?” I asked.

“Yep.” He pulled into an empty spot and cut the engine. “They set up the equipment on the playing fields.”

As soon as we got out of the car, I could hear barking. Lots of barking. “I guess the playing fields are that way, huh?” I quipped.

“Right.” Adam was busy clipping on his dogs' leashes. Both of them were alert and excited; Shasta stared intently in the direction of the barking, while Lark spun in circles and yipped.

Muckle had heard the barking too, of course. I kept a tight hold on his leash as he jumped around, barking and smelling things.

“Do you have a free hand?” Adam asked, leaning into the van. He came out holding an overstuffed tote bag, which he handed to me.

“Um, sure.” Gripping Muckle's leash with my left hand, I slung the bag over my other shoulder. “Wow, it's heavy. What's in here?”

“Liver snaps, poo bags, water bottles—the usual.” Adam slammed the door shut and glanced at me, his eyes flashing with excitement. “Let's go.”

We hurried around the corner of the school to the sight of a three-ring circus. At least that was how it looked to me. There were dogs and people everywhere, swarming all around the brightly painted agility equipment. Two rings were set up side by side, with white rope separating them off. At the moment, a rangy brown-and-white dog was zipping around the course, while several people stood in the other ring, having some kind of consultation over one of the jumps. Off to the side, a tent city of lawn chairs and shaded dog crates lined the edge of the field.

“Wow,” I said, taking it all in. “This is really something.”

“It's great, isn't it?” Adam sounded distracted as he scanned the crowd. “I think I see my coach over there.”

I had to scurry to keep up as he went striding off toward the crates and lawn chairs. “You have a coach?” I said. “I thought you were a coach.”

“I am. But only for lower levels. So far.” Adam tugged on Lark's leash as the border collie paused to sniff at the grass. “Phil helps me out with the girls when we compete at this level.”

Soon we reached a cluster of people standing near the crates. Adam introduced one of them—a tall, balding man with crooked teeth and intelligent green eyes—as his coach.

“This is Lauren,” he told Phil. “And that's Muckle. They're interested in maybe getting into agility, so they came along to check things out today.”

Okay, that wasn't quite how I'd expected to be introduced. Still, maybe it wasn't realistic to think he'd refer to me as “Lauren, the love of my life” or “Lauren, my amazing new girlfriend” or even “Lauren, my date.”

“Hi, Lauren,” Phil said in a booming voice. “Welcome. I'm sure Adam will put you right to work.”

He chortled, and the other people standing with him laughed too. I smiled politely, hanging on to Muckle as he tried to drag me over to say hi to the floppy-eared spaniel scrabbling at the wire door of the nearest crate.

“Easy, Muck,” I said, scooping him up. “We've got to stay out of the way, okay?”

Muckle wiggled and barked in my ear, nearly deafening me. Noticing that Adam was wandering off, I smiled politely at Phil and the others and hurried to catch up.

“So what happens now?” I asked Adam.

I was hoping he'd say we could sit down together and watch the competition for a while. The images were already playing out in my head. Adam would tell me what was happening, I'd scoot a little closer on the bleachers to let someone by, his hand would drift to my knee . . .

Blinking, I realized he was walking off again. “Wait, what?” I called, scurrying after him.

“I said, I need to sign in.” He squinted toward a large plastic tent at one end of the field. “It looks crowded over there. Can you hold the girls for a sec?”

Before I could say a word, I found myself holding two more leashes. As Adam walked off, Lark strained against her collar, whining softly.

“Um, it's okay, girl,” I told her. “Stay here with me, okay?”

Shasta sat down, gazing at me with mild suspicion. Or maybe it was disdain; I couldn't tell. Meanwhile Lark started pacing, threatening to jerk the leash out of my hand with each pass. I looped the handle around my left wrist, hanging on to the other two leashes with my right hand while trying not to let the tote bag slide off my shoulder. Muckle seemed to find it great fun to follow Lark and sniff her butt every chance he got, which Lark mostly ignored.

It seemed to take forever for Adam to return, but finally he hurried over, looking vaguely tense. “We're up soon,” he announced, reaching for Lark's leash.

I shivered as his hand brushed mine. Then I held out Shasta's leash, but Adam was already heading off without her. I shrugged and followed, with Muckle and Shasta trotting along beside me.

We caught up outside one of the rings. Adam was stroking Lark's head. He glanced up as I arrived.

“Listen, thanks for being here, Lauren,” he said with a nervous smile. “It's nice to have a friendly face around. Nobody in my family is into dog sports that much, so I'm usually juggling both girls by myself. I'm really glad you came.”

He looked so sincere, so vulnerable, that my heart melted. “Me too,” I said. “It's fun.”

We kept smiling at each other for a long moment. Once again, I felt that spark pass between us. He was so good-looking it was hard to believe he was real, and here, and on a date with me of all people. I drank in his eyes, his cheekbones, his broad shoulders . . .

Then a sharp whistle snapped me out of it. Adam blinked and straightened up, suddenly all business.

“We're on,” he said.

“Good luck!” I called as he and Lark jogged away.

I dropped the tote bag on the grass at the edge of the ring and sat down beside it, being careful to keep hold of both leashes. Muckle was dashing back and forth in front of me, barking like crazy. Luckily, nobody around us seemed to mind, or even give
him a second glance. Probably because a lot of their dogs were acting the same way.

Shasta was a little better; she mostly stood straining gently at the end of her leash, her eyes locked on Adam. I knew how she felt.

It was cool watching Adam and Lark do their thing. Lark moved so fast through the agility course that she was little more than a blur, and Adam was with her every step, directing her with hand motions and body language. I barely had time to take a breath before the round was over.

“Whoo-hoo!” I cheered, jumping to my feet. “Way to go, guys!”

Adam was grinning as he jogged back over. “Well, that didn't suck,” he announced, grabbing Lark in a big hug. Shasta leaped toward him, wanting to get in on the action. Again, I knew how she felt. Feeling daring, I gave Adam a tentative pat on the shoulder as he rolled around with both border collies—oh, and Muckle, who had decided to join in the celebration as well.

“That was amazing,” I said. “You two looked great out there.”

“Thanks.” He grinned up at me. “Just wait until you see Shasta go!” He patted the ground beside him. “Have a seat—we've got a few minutes before our turn, so we can hang out and watch some of the other rounds.”

Now that was more like it. I sat down again, scooting as close to him as I dared—which wasn't particularly close, actually, since Shasta insisted on pressing up against him. Oh well. So far this “date” wasn't superromantic, but who needed flowers and soft
music, really? I was getting to see Adam do what he did best, which was even better.

We spent the next few minutes living out my little fantasy from earlier. Well, parts of it, anyway. As several other dogs took their turns in the ring, Adam explained what was going on. A few times he even leaned close enough for our shoulders to brush—and he didn't seem to be in any hurry to pull away.

Then it was Shasta's turn. And Adam was right—she truly was impressive. She flew around the course so fast that the audience was cheering even before she finished. Adam was breathless when he came back.

“That was incredible!” I exclaimed as Muckle and Lark jumped around and barked, presumably congratulating Shasta in doggy language. “So did she win?”

“I'm not sure yet.” Adam bit his lip and glanced at an older woman holding a clipboard nearby. “They'll announce it soon.”

When the woman made the announcement, it turned out that Shasta had won—and Lark had come in second! Adam let out a whoop and pumped his fist, while both border collies went crazy. He hugged each of them in turn—then spun around and hugged me!

I gasped as he pulled me close, nearly squeezing the breath out of me. “We did it,” he mumbled into my hair. “We did it!”

Now this was more like it! Okay, so it had taken a doggy triumph to get me some real up-close-and-personal contact. I'd take it!

“Yay,” I said, finally realizing that I should be hugging him
back. I wrapped my arms around him, loving the feel of being so close to him.

After a moment Adam pulled back slightly, smiling down at me. His face was so close that my breath caught in my throat. I found myself very focused on his lips. . . .

“Congratulations, dog boy,” a sardonic voice said right behind me.

Adam let go of me and stepped back. “Oh. Hi, Tab.”

I glanced back. A girl was standing there, arms crossed over her chest. She looked familiar. So did her dog, a Brittany that was already sniffing butts and noses with Muckle and the border collies. It was the girl from the dog park—the sporty-looking blonde I'd seen a couple of times now.

Now that I got a better look at her, I realized she was probably closer to Adam's age than to mine. She was also quite pretty, with hazel eyes and a deep tan. She looked me up and down in an appraising way.

“I've seen you around, haven't I?” she said. “I recognize your sheltie.”

“Um, yeah. Dog park.” I smiled uncertainly, wondering if that was how she knew Adam, too. They both seemed to spend a lot of time there.

“I'm Tabitha.” She stuck out her hand. “Don't tell me Adam suckered another girl into wanting to hang out with him.”

“Um, I'm Lauren.” I shook her hand, not sure how to respond to the rest.

Adam frowned. “Lay off, Tab.”

Tabitha ignored him, her pretty face twisting into a weird little smile. “I hope you're just in it for the agility tips or whatever, Lauren. Because if you're looking for anything else from this one, you're looking in the wrong place.”

“Whatever, Tab.” Adam sounded annoyed.

“Whatever yourself.” She tossed him a smirk. “See you around, Lauren.”

With that, she spun on her heel and marched off. The Brittany trotted after her. I had to hold Muckle back from following as well.

“What was that all about?” I asked Adam, a little freaked out by the bitterness in Tabitha's eyes when she'd looked at Adam.

He rolled his eyes. “Sorry about that. Ex-girlfriend,” he said. “She never really understood my passion for dog sports.”

“Oh.” I didn't say anything else, though I couldn't help feeling uneasy. I mean, wasn't Tabitha a dog sport enthusiast herself? Why else would she be at the competition?

I didn't have much time to think about it. Phil was hurrying over to congratulate Adam and his dogs, followed by a stream of other well-wishers. Adam seemed to know everyone at the competition. Before I knew it, he was offering a ride home to a skinny guy with a goatee and a very large Doberman. A tiny, round woman with a corgi overheard and begged to tag along. Within minutes, we were all piling into the minivan.