Page 24 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

She shakes her head, dismissing my concern. “It’s okay. We all have our pasts, right?”

“Right,” I agree, feeling the tug of my own history. “I lost my mom when I was pretty young. It… well, it shaped a lot of who I am today.”

“Isaac…” Her voice softens with empathy, and she reaches out briefly, her hand brushing against mine. It’s a fleeting touch, but it soothes me, pulls me back from the precipice of old sorrows.

“Thanks.” I manage a smile, focusing on the present — the crunch of leaves underfoot, the rustle of the wind through the trees, the steady rhythm of Baxter’s panting.

“Hey, tell me about how you got into dog training,” I prompt, eager to steer our conversation toward lighter subjects. “Was it always your plan?”

“Actually, no.” She chuckles lightly, and the sound is like sunlight piercing through the canopy. “It happened during college. I started volunteering at a shelter, and something just clicked. I realized I loved working with dogs — helping them, understanding them. It became my passion.”

“Sounds fulfilling.” I nod, genuinely impressed. “I can’t say I’m that passionate about real estate. It’s exciting, high-stakes, sure, but what drives me is being good at something. I guess excellence is its own kind of passion.”

“Definitely,” she agrees, her gaze meeting mine. “Passion can be found in many forms — even in the pursuit of excellence.”

The trail narrows, forcing us into a single file with Baxter leading the way, his tail wagging like a metronome keeping time. I can’t remember the last time I let myself just breathe in the essence of life around me. The fresh, earthy scent of the woods fills my lungs, and a laugh escapes me, unbidden. It feels foreign, yet familiar.

The trail dips down a hill, taking us alongside a creek. Baxter sniffs the edge of the water, his paws getting wet. I briefly think about my car, about how dirty it will be after this excursion, then realize it doesn’t really matter — because it will be worth it.

“Careful,” Emily warns as Baxter darts into the creek, but her warning comes too late.

The leash wraps around our legs — an unintentional trap. My foot slips on a moss-slickened rock, and gravity takes hold, pulling Emily and me down toward the shallow water.

Emily shrieks, and I try to grab her to save her from getting wet, but it’s too late. We’re both sitting on the creek bed, covered in water, Baxter next to us snapping at bubbles.

For a moment, irritation flares within me — my clothes are soaked, the cold water seeping into my skin. But then, Emily’s laughter rings out, pure and unrestrained, echoing off the trees.

I look at her, really look, and see the sparkle in her eyes, the way her head tilts back in abandon. And something in me shifts. How easily she finds joy in the unexpected, in the mishaps. I join her in laughter, and it’s like shedding a layer of armor I didn’t realize I was wearing.

As our laughter subsides, there’s a moment — a fleeting pause where her gaze lingers on mine. I notice the way she bites her lip, the slight tilt of her head. It’s a look that speaks volumes, suggesting desires unspoken, and for a second, I’m convinced she’s considering kissing me.

Should I do it? Make a move?

It’s too late. The moment is gone. She’s standing up, unwinding the leash from around us. We head back to the car, shivering a bit from the water. A silence falls between us — not uncomfortable, but thoughtful, as if we’re both processing the day.

I find myself once more mulling over the possibility of asking Emily out. There’s an ease between us, a connection that seems to go beyond trainer and client.

But there’s also the professional boundary, the unspoken rule about mixing business with pleasure. I don’t want to jeopardize what we have, this fledgling friendship — and Baxter’s progress — for the sake of a potential date.

My thoughts whirl as we reach the car, and I’m no closer to a decision. I open the door for Baxter, who jumps in, tired but happy.

Turning to Emily, I offer a smile, a silent thank-you for today. “He did great, didn’t he?” I say.

“Yeah, he did.” She smiles back, her eyes softening. “And so did you.”

As we get into our cars and wave goodbye, her words linger in my mind. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll ask her out. But not today. Today, I’ll savor the warmth of a smile that might mean more.

CHAPTER 14

EMILY

Terry’s four little legs pump along, a final burst of energy before he flops onto the park’s soft grass, where he then pants with satisfaction. His human, Monique, beams at me.

“You’re a miracle worker, Emily,” she says, gathering Terry into her arms. I can’t stop the swell of pride in my chest, warm like a summer sunrise.

“Thank you. It’s just the start now. Remember to practice those commands every day,” I remind her as she clips Terry’s leash back on.

“I will. Promise.” She waves goodbye, and they head off, a pair transformed by patience and trust.

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