Romance Me (Boxed Set) (3 page)

Hagh! Hagh!

At the unusual noise, my head whipped toward the living room, eyes scanning the room for the source of the strange sounds.

Hagh! Hagh!

My eyes froze on the spot where Rachel’s Snoopy-looking destroyer had apparently knocked over my purse—the contents dribbled from the arm of the couch, to the seat cushions, and onto the floor. The four-legged terror stood with his mouth wide as he continued making awful choking noises.

“Oh, no!” I ran over to Chester, who backed away, somehow managing to look guilty even as he hacked loudly. I grabbed my bag and searched for what he might’ve eaten. “What is wrong with you, dog? Have you no self-control?”

Hagh! Hagh!

In my purse, I pushed aside my wallet, hairbrush, and a bottle of aspirin, which I frantically examined . . . still capped, thank goodness. Various lip-glosses lay strewn across the couch, several canine-sized holes in the plastic tubes oozing various shades of pink onto the beige sofa. Could designer lip-gloss be toxic to dogs? I stared at Chester as he began foaming at the mouth.

My hands flew to the sides of my head, gripping my hair between my fingers. “Is he dying? What should I do?” My heart raced and I tried to take deep calming breaths to no avail. “Rachel’s going to kill me!”

I couldn’t call her, that’s for sure. She would freak and we didn’t have time for that. I had to act quickly. Who could help? Oh, wait. An animal doctor. Duh. I raced to the counter where I’d left my phone, and used my search app to locate the closest one.

Three blocks away. I could get there in time. At least I hoped.

“Hang on, Chester.” I grabbed his leash, a kitchen towel, and what was left of my shredded handbag. “We’re going to the vet.”

****

A hair before 6:00 p.m., Chester and I rushed into All Things Furry. Ignoring the people in the waiting room—there were a surprising amount for a Monday evening—I raced to the counter, but nobody was behind it.

“Hello?!” I rang the metal bell, obsessively. “I need help
please
. Emergency!”

Hagh-ech! Hagh-ech!

Holding Rachel’s bright yellow dishtowel under Chester’s saliva-dripping mouth, I panicked at the morphed sounds he was making. “Hang in there, dude.”

I shifted him in my arms then slammed on the metal bell some more. “Does anyone work here?”

“Can I help?” A male voice came from behind me.

“Yes, this dog got into my purse and—” I paused mid-sentence as my gaze met dark gray eyes that sent a bolt of adrenaline through me. My heart flipped in my chest. Not an appropriate reaction when Rach’s dog could be dying. “I-I think he ate something toxic. Maybe my lip-gloss? Are you the vet? Can you give him that charcoal stuff to make him barf it up?”

He studied Chester’s half-open mouth. “Try setting him down. I’ll take a look.”

“Thanks.” I knelt, still holding the towel under his mouth—because,
ew
, slobber all over the place.

The vet dropped to his knees next to Chester and pried his little jaw open.

Hech! Hech!

As he examined the dog’s throat, I couldn’t help checking
him
out. There was something going on behind those dark eyes that had me dying to learn everything about him. Where he was from, what made him tick, what he looked for in a girl . . .

My pulse slammed into overdrive.

Weird that the vet was wearing sweats, though. Maybe he’d finished with his last patient and was going for a run? Definitely looked like a guy who worked out regularly. Yeah, that’s what I should be thinking about while my friend’s dog was gagging for his life. What was
wrong
with me? Focus, Ellen. “Can you save him?”

“Hang on a sec.” As Chester strained away from him, he reached his thumb and index finger down his throat. “I think I’ve found the culprit.”

With both hands, I tried my best to hold the squiggly pup in place. Couldn’t the dog understand we were trying to save his miniature beagle life?

From deep down Chester’s throat, he pulled out a huge glob of wet, dirty-blond hair. Yuck.

“It looks prettier on your head,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

I cringed, wrapping the mangled hair into a napkin from my purse. “Uh, well . . .”

Okay, so I keep a hairbrush in my handbag. And I don’t clean it regularly. How could I have known some freakoid dog would snack on it?

“I think you’re gonna live.” The guy rubbed a hand across the moronic pup’s black, brown and white head. “What’s his name?”

“Chester.” Relieved that he was going to be fine, I watched as the ungrateful animal wriggled away, lifted his hind foot, and scratched his ear without so much as a look of appreciation. “And yours is Dr . . . ?”

“Henry.” He reached out to shake my hand.

“I’m Ellen.” When I slipped my hand into his firm grasp, my insides warmed. And, okay, I probably held on longer than I needed to. Snap out of it, girl. “You’re the vet?”

“Me? No.” He stood and brushed dog hair off his pants. “We’re here for dog obedience school.”

“We?” My heart sank and I scanned the room for his wife or girlfriend.

“Kenzie and me.” He gestured toward the big black lab I hadn’t noticed hiding under a chair. “Found her wandering by the side of the freeway last month. She was skin and bones. I called the local shelters and checked the newspaper, but nothing. Someone must’ve dumped her.”

“That’s too bad.” Her weight seemed healthy now, thanks to her new owner. Compassionate and perhaps single? No ring, but he could be dating someone. Or two someones. Or five. Too many unanswered questions. Despite my attraction to him, I reminded myself why I’d signed up for
Detailed Dating
. So they could ask all the hard questions and I would have the answers. All I had to do was check a guy’s profile to see if he was A) single and dating; B) single and looking for an exclusive relationship; C) single and looking for a casual relationship (aka: hook-ups). Meeting a cute guy on my own left too many unknowns to stress over. Time to go. “Well, thank you so much for your help, Henry.”

“Anytime.” He seemed to take my hint, nodded, then went over to Kenzie (who nuzzled his leg as soon as he sat down in the leather chair).

I found his pup’s cuddling adorable. The dog had been scared stiff a moment ago, but obviously felt safe with Henry.

I’d been the one to cut our conversation short, but the distance between us suddenly felt wrong. When I realized I was standing in the middle of the room all by myself, I felt lame. So, I started toward the door and then realized I didn’t have Chester with me. I quickly scanned the room. No! No! No!

First, I’d nearly killed him. Now, I’d
lost
him. Rachel had way too much faith in my dog-sitting abilities.

“He’s over there.” A white-haired woman with a poodle on her lap pointed toward a potted plant in the corner of the room. Chester was gnawing on one of its leaves.

A little boy near the front door snickered. “Your dog totally needs obedience school.”

“That’s not polite, Junior.” His mother scrunched up her nose, the expression implying she agreed with her son but wasn’t going to say it.

It annoyed me that the woman had judged my friend’s dog. Especially because she was correct in her assessment. But, that wasn’t the spoiled beagle’s fault. Like the kid said, the poor mutt had never been trained.

“Come on, Chester.” As I tugged him away from the plant, the back door opened.

A young blonde wearing pink velour sweatpants with a matching zip-up hoody stepped into the lobby checking her clipboard. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Abby Wilson and welcome to Simply Skilled. I take it you’re all here for dog obedience class?”

Affirmations sounded throughout the room and one in particular stood out. Hearing Henry’s voice tugged at something inside me.

I raised my hand. “Is it too late to sign up?”

****

Glancing around the waiting room at the gold-framed puppy and kitten pictures in All Things Furry, I could see why Abby Wilson had charged me an insane amount of money to enroll Rachel’s spaz in Simply Skilled obedience class. This vet clinic appeared to be hosting the Cambridge of doggy schools. In today’s dismal economy, it was hard to believe they’d managed to pack the place. Even harder to believe, I’d made a significant financial decision on a whim. But, there was a mystery behind those deep gray eyes that I needed to solve . . .

Clearly, I was not in my right mind.

As Abby ran my credit card, I stole a glance at Henry who smiled at me. I shrugged and said, quietly, “He obviously needs it.”

I signed the slip Abby handed me, then skimmed through the glossy brochure she’d included with my receipt. In addition to dogs, they train all kinds of hairy creatures. Apparently if you want your hamster to put his paws on his glass wall and wave to you, this was the place to come.

Ruff. Ruff.
Chester jumped up against my shins and wagged his Snoopy tail as though thanking me for his first doggy class. That, or he felt stoked for another opportunity to eat something he shouldn’t. We’d see if this class could cure him of that urge.

Abby strode to the center of the room and told us her résumé. Although I could feel Henry’s gaze on me, I kept my eyes glued to the perky woman and tried to play it cool. Because, hello? I’d just met the guy and already I’d blown a designer pair of shoes’ worth of moola because I was wondering if Henry had felt the same—what had Rachel called it?—
chemistry
and
vibe
that I did with him.

Abby clapped her hands and threw a fist in the air. “When we leave at the end of the four-day session this week, your beloved pet will understand the basic commands: sit, stay, and heel. Plus, on Thursday, our last day together, we’ll work on a special individual skill of your choice that you want your furry friend to master.”

All I wanted to master was more time with Henry. Although getting this mutt to stop eating my stuff would be an awesome side benefit.

Abby’s blonde ponytail bobbed as she waved her hand over her shoulder. “Let’s come on back and get started.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Henry rise from his chair. I slyly waited for the dozen others in the room to follow her first so I could bring up the rear with him.

His face was somber as we fell into step together. “Give me a call if you need me to save your dog from deadly hair again.”

My belly danced at his adorable flirtation. “That’s very kind of you, but he’s not mine. He belongs to my best friend.” I glanced at Chester who was sniffing Kenzie’s, uh, private region. So rude! “I’m hoping to win an Auntie of the Year award by being the world’s best dog sitter.”

“Tough start with the choking thing,” he said, while managing a straight face.

“You have no evidence of that.” I nudged his elbow, playfully. “I’ve been Rachel’s friend for more than four years. She would never believe your word over mine.”

“She go out of town?” he said, as we entered a large room with an arena made out of bright green sod.

I shook my head. “Out on a hot date.”

He gave me a curious look. “She gets a hot date and you’re left watching her dog?”

“Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Although, the way we were flirting almost made me feel like I was on a date, too. Too bad this class didn’t include wine by the fireplace.

Kenzie whimpered and I looked down to find Chester nuzzling her with his nose. “He really does believe he owns the world. Think this class will teach him anything?”

He studied me a moment with those deep gray eyes. “I think it’ll be worth our time.”

I couldn’t wait to see if that statement turned out to be true.

CHAPTER TWO

The next day, I couldn’t help but agree with Henry. The class had definitely been worth my time—and the money I’d paid. But that was my hormones talking. I told myself to be more practical, even as the man on the phone, Gilbert Watson, gave me an earful on how our financial software program was to blame for his computer woes.

“Sir, if you would listen to me—” I tried interjecting, but he talked over me trying to talk over him.

“My laptop worked perfectly before. Now, it’s slow. Sometimes it even shuts down on me. Big business is out to screw the innocent, unsuspecting consumer and I will stand up for my rights. My wife totally agrees with me about this!” he said.

Considering I didn’t know his wife, that really didn’t matter, but as he took a breath, I jumped hoping to chill the man out. “We’re a
small
business, Mr. Watson, and I assure you—”

No use. The dude had zero interest in a two-way conversation. He wanted to vent. As a customer service rep, I should be fine with this but, after only two hours of sleep, I was
not
in an emotional place to hear his diatribe on the evils of capitalism. And I hadn’t spent the remaining six hours of my night tossing and turning with thoughts of Chester in my head. No, I’d been obsessing about the guy who’d saved him.

When I’d gone to bed at ten o’clock, I’d snuggled into my pillow and pictured the way Henry Holbrook III (I’d managed to find out his full name, if nothing else) had smiled at me every time I’d made a joke during dog school. Normally I took class, any kind of class, seriously. I’m an A student (fine, A-/B+). But yesterday evening, all I could pay attention to was Henry. And that had been true even after I’d gone to bed. Actually, it had been
more
true.

Then I’d thought about my date with Craig and reminded myself I hardly knew anything about who Henry really was. More importantly, I didn’t know if we were compatible. I mean, he had a dog and I didn’t. I’d never owned any kind of animal, actually. Hairy things shed a lot and I kept my town home immaculate. Did
he
own a home? Did he live in the area? If so, did he plan to stay in this area? What did he do for a living? And did he like to travel?

If my mom’s marriage history had taught me anything, it was that relationships won’t last if your life goals and interests aren’t in line. Everyone knows the more conflict, the more arguing. I’d heard my mom and Hubby Number One get into heated discussions repeatedly and, not a shocker, they had zilch in common.