Page 24 of The Holiday Ex-Files

My face flushed and I got all flustered. “Um, you can wait in your truck and I’ll bring your flash drive to you after Neville does his thing. You can Venmo me your payment.”

Noah shook his head like I had given him whiplash with the change of subject. “I’m in no rush.”

Well, I was. I began speed walking, jostling poor Neville.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me?” Noah kept pace quite easily. His legs were longer than mine.

“Neville is very private. He won’t even pee in front of other dogs.”

Noah snort laughed.

“It’s true. You wouldn’t want to be the reason Neville embarrasses himself further when he has an accident, now would you?” Plus, I needed him to leave. Miss Sparkly was too observant of him and it was unnerving.

Noah rubbed Neville’s head. “I don’t think you give Neville . . . or yourself enough credit,” he added poignantly.

I faltered and had to steady myself, not loving where this was going.

Noah unceremoniously took Neville out of my arms and held him up. “Come here, buddy, let’s show Cams what you’re made of.”

“Excuse me, I think I know what my dog is made of.” Anxiety meds and a carefully crafted routine.

“I beg to differ.” Noah marched my dog over to the dedicated grassy area in the middle of the complex. It was a nice area, with big trees and even a few benches. Not that I ever sat on them. Neville was a get-in-and-get-out kind of dog. If he were a man, he would not be the type to take his phone into the bathroom and stay to watch a show or play a game. My brothers were notorious for this. It drove each one of my sisters-in-law nuts. Meanwhile they were holding toddlers on their laps and helping with math homework all while sitting on the toilet.

I stood stunned, not sure what to think about Noah’s brazen ways. And I was getting ready to gloat when Neville proved me right. I only hoped my poor pooch didn’t go into cardiac arrest. There was a big German shepherd near one of the large quaking aspen trees with leaves of gold. The kind of dog that would make Neville just roll over and play dead if he came near.

Noah whispered into Neville’s ear before he set him down. I clasped my hands, anxious for my dog. I never thought I would be one of those dog parents, but there I was acting like my kindergartner was going off to school for the first time, waiting for him to run back to me and cling to my leg. I even squeaked a bit when the German shepherd made a move in Neville’s direction. I went to rescue my baby, but Noah held up his hand as if to say, “Stand down, momma bear.”

I bit my lip, uncomfortable on so many levels. I didn’t want my baby to have an aneurysm, and Noah’s take-charge attitude was attractive. Both of me recognized that. Not sure which was more uncomfortable—the fact I recognized it or that I was referring to myself as two people now.

Neville strayed a few inches from Noah, only to come right back to him and rub against his legs. Noah knelt and gently petted his head while telling him, “You got this, boy. The first steps are always the hardest. Maybe if you can show your mommy how grown up you are, she’ll let you finally meet your girlfriend, Luna.” Noah winked at me, and I rolled my eyes, albeit with a grin on my face.

Noah pointed at a big pine tree a few yards from them. “Go mark your territory, man.”

“He doesn’t pee with his leg up,” I informed Noah.

Noah’s brow raised. “Really? Maybe he needs to see how it’s done.” He started walking my baby over to the German shepherd, who was peeing on everything.

I put my hands up to my mouth, knowing this probably wasn’t going to end well. “Noah.” I scrunched my face.

“He’s got this.” Noah proceeded with confidence. I had always admired his sense of self. I mean, the man was in short sleeves and it was forty degrees outside. Meanwhile I stood shivering in my jacket.

As I predicted, Neville yelped and darted right back to Noah when the German shepherd and his owner began to approach them. I should mention that the owner was a beautiful siren with flowing red hair. It dawned on me that Noah was using my dog as bait to catch his next photo shoot victim. Ugh. Men.

I almost made a move to rescue my dog from unknowingly playing a part in Noah’s scheme. Instead, I crossed my arms, annoyed, as I watched the scene in front of me unfold—hoping when my poor pup got the living daylights scared out of him, he’d bite Noah.

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