Page 18 of I Hate Myself for Loving You
Score one for Avery Palmer.
“Hey, puppy, aren’t you pretty? Are you lost?” Lassiter scruffed her ears with his wide palm. “What an unusual coat. You’re almost white,” he cooed in wonder, kneeling down to stare into her eyes.
Pretty. Yes, she was rather pretty in wolf form, wasn’t she? All the other wolves said so. Preening, Avery sat back on her haunches and allowed Lassiter to run a strong hand over her muzzle.
Oh, the man and his hands. Honestly, they could be used as weapons of mass hormonal destruction.
Avery had to remind herself that as a “puppy” she’d more than likely be very hesitant with a stranger. So she backed away from him and looked the other way, refusing to meet his eyes—a clear sign a dog was hesitant.
“You hungry, puppy?” he asked in an obvious effort to tempt her inside with food.
“Hungryhungryhungry,” Bud twittered from his shoulder, flapping his colorful wings.
Lassiter gave her a wink, his handsome face playful and inviting. “Tell you what. I’ll leave the door open and if you’re so inclined, you just come on in,” he invited noncommittally, his voice swirling in her ears, husky, hot, calming.
“Comeonincomeonin.”
Damn, that was some parakeet. Her experience was that they were difficult to train and rarely learned the variety of words this bird who went by the name Bud spouted.
Her indecision led to a pivotal choice. She had nothing to lose by gaining access to the inner sanctum of Lassiter’s home and everything to gain.
Granted, she was in disguise as a dog and that was, at the very least, foul play. But she had to think of all the animals he’d wipe out and the devastation he’d create for Max and his family.
Thus, the game was afoot.
Poking her head around the corner, Avery cautiously placed first one paw, then the next over the sliders. Lassiter, tall and firm, stood by the small kitchen sink, tearing something up that he’d taken from the fridge.
Avery’s nose lifted, trying to catch the scent.
Ugh, beef. Steak maybe. She sniffed the air again. Definitely steak. With onions. Bleh.
“I see the call of food wins,” he said over his broad shoulder with satisfaction and a delicious grin.
Crap. But if she was going to play the part, she was going to have to put up or shut up.
Setting the bowl down in front of her, Lassiter pulled a chair out from the small, rickety kitchen table in the trailer’s tiny kitchen, leaning forward on his elbows to watch her, waiting for her to approach the bowl.
Sniff! You need to sniff with curiosity.
Yes, she should sniff the bowl. That was very dog-like and totally in character. Nudging the bowl with her nose, she swiped her tongue over the bits of meat he’d taken such care to shred. Her stomach lurched.
Lord, the humiliation when he said warmly, “Gooood girl. See? I won’t hurt you. I’m guessing you’re a girl because you’re so pretty. I’ll look later to be sure. For right now, you just enjoy.”
No, no, no. Dear God, the humiliation of it all. She was not spreading her legs, er, paws for Lassiter Adams ever again. He was going to have to go with the assumption that she was a girl or she’d bite his hand off.
Her stomach rolled, looking at the bowl of meat. Definitely steak and decidedly a few days old. Licking at it with a light tongue, she found she had to grit her teeth to keep from yarking the meat right back up. Avery silently sent an apology to all the animals she’d vowed never to eat.
Bud hopped from Lassiter’s shoulder and onto her back, landing with a tiny thump, his small talons digging into her spine. He dipped his head and nipped at her fur.
For the love of Pete.
“Bud, be nice. See how nice the puppy is? You be nice, too,” Lassiter warned in a gently admonishing, child-like voice.
Um, this was turning her brain inside out on a gazillion different levels. Closed mouthed, pissed off at the world, over the top manly-man was talking to her like she was a toddler. Coaxing her to eat, stroking her fur, talking to her all cutesy. It would be desperately funny if she could actually use this little interaction to mock him.
He’d spent far too much time alone in her estimation. He didn’t have the decency to even crack a smile at a human, but he sure was Mr. Warm and Sunny with an animal. Though, to be honest, who could blame him? People hadn’t always been nice to Lassiter and even though he didn’t ever show it, maybe it had left him scarred.
“Are you full, pretty girl?” Lassiter inquired; his entire face alight with complete tranquility. “C’mon, you can do better than that. Eat up, Princess.”
