Page 7 of Sexy Bad Valentine

CHAPTER THREE

Evie

Abby squeals and claps her hands as she chases after Spot, who is chasing after Ducky, who is quacking and flapping after Barclay through the snow. He’s such a sweetheart of a pup, and a complete sook when it comes to the duck. He skids to a stop, spraying snow every which way before flopping onto his back in submission while Ducky climbs onto his belly, victorious.

I sweep the last bit of snow from the deck. How can Max not like dogs? They’re supposed to be man’s best friend, but it’s almost like Max believes the pup is out to get him.

My phone beeps and I drag off a glove to pick it up. I can feel the beginnings of a smile that it might be him texting me. Despite his obvious failings, he’s not a bad guy. And he is cute. Okay, a little more than cute. But he’s also probably the sort of man who flirts with all the girls, though for a split second there that didn’t stop me from hoping he would ask me out, not ask me to watch his sister’s dog. Can’t believe I forgot the girl he was with at the park. Burberry chick. Clearly he runs in higher social circles than I do.

Congratulations. Puppy Love wants you. A contract will be emailed to you directly.

Not Max then. I guess I should be stoked that I was picked for the show, despite the fact that the person who was supposed to interview me didn’t bother to show up.

“How’s my girl?” Garrett asks as he steps onto the snow cleared deck. “Where the hell did that dog come from?”

“The neighbor. Just for the day,” I hurry to explain. “I’ll take him home when the guy gets home from work. Abby is loving it though.”

“I’m sure.” He folds his arms against his chest while he watches his daughter frolic with her menagerie. “Think maybe she’ll be a vet when she grows up? If she doesn’t decide to pursue golf, that is.”

“Possibly.” I nod.

“Is that a dog?” Erin joins us, wrapping an arm around him.

“Yep. Not ours.” He turns to engulf her in a hug.

“Maybe we should consider getting one,” Erin says.

“Hmmm.” Garrett turns to me. “Why don’t you take a break, Evie? I’ve been looking forward to spending some time with my daughter all day. Told her we’d build a snowman and then make hot chocolate.”

“Take the rest of the day,” Erin agrees.

“Okay.”

“Just make sure you take that dog home,” Garrett reminds me.

“Of course.” I leave them and hightail it to my room to open the email on my computer.

It takes me twenty minutes to read through the contract, another ten minutes of hemming and hawing. But let’s be real here. The one man I’ve met that I could see myself going on a date with is either involved or a player. And four weeks is a long time to keep the latter type of guy’s interest. I electronically sign the document and email it back. Done.

How’s Mutt Everest?

His text takes me by surprise while I’m lying on my bed, reading on my Kindle. I can’t help smirking at his word play.

Fine. Afraid of a duck.

Really? The duck?

I push up on my elbows, press my lips together as I consider what to say next. He’s a pussycat.

Pretty sure he’s a dog. Pussies are a man’s real best friend, you know.

With a quick intake of breath, I fumble and drop my phone. I don’t know whether to take him seriously, or if he’s flirting with me. Should I change the subject?

I suppose all you need to do to get them purring is to stroke them right.

I roll my gaze to the ceiling as my face shines hotter than a heat lamp. Why on earth did I write that? And he isn’t responding. No new text comes through. I stare at the screen for a full five minutes before I decide that I would have blown any date with Max anyway and go back to my book.

There are so many things I could respond with. Things that would make you blush now that you’ve put the thought in my head. Trust me when I tell you that my lack of answer is purely because I don’t want to scare you off.

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