Page 12 of Love Out Loud

Chapter Five

Jake stepped out of the cab at the corner of 12thAvenue and 52ndStreet, blinking in the bright sunlight. He had no idea what Fiona had in mind, meeting at De Witt Clinton Park when Washington Square Park was so much closer to their apartment building.

“Hey.” The voice from behind him was light and feminine.

He spun to find Fiona striding toward him, wearing tight jeans, ankle boots, and a snug T-shirt that had two dogs on the front. One was sniffing the other one’s butt. The caption below them, hovering in the enticing shadow right under her breasts, said, “Love stinks.”

He bit back a laugh. “Hey yourself.”

She upended a paper coffee cup and chugged the remainder before pitching it in a can chained to a light post. “You ready?” She didn’t meet his eyes, but there was an edge of challenge in her quiet voice.

“For what?” Honestly, he had no clue what she was up to, which both infuriated and intrigued him. He noticed she didn’t have her dogs with her, so meeting at the park was even more of a mystery.

A slight smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “To be proven wrong.”

“Oh, totally ready, then.”

Without another word, she headed to the corner and stepped out into the intersection toward Pier 92.

Piers 92 and 94 were adjacent warehouses on the Hudson River. Conventions, trade shows, and even fashion shows were held there year-round, but Jake had no clue what was going on here today.

As they approached the entrance, she sped up her pace. That didn’t bother him a bit because it gave him a clear view of her from behind, which, he decided, was a really good view. The scrubs he always saw her in when he bumped into her in the lobby didn’t do her shape justice like tight, hip-hugging jeans.

Client, he reminded himself, followed by an internal string of curse words.

As they neared the door, he could seeMeet & Competewas emblazoned across a banner over the entrance. When they entered, she flashed two tickets to a woman behind a desk labeledAKC Meet the Breeds.

Breeds. AKC.Frozen in place, he stared with dread at the logo of a spotted dog at the top of the sign. And just like that, his pulse kicked up a notch. AKC was the American Kennel Club.Shit.

Fiona opened the warehouse door on the left, and the gravity of the situation hit him like a punch in the face. Dogs. Thesmellof dogs. Thesoundof dogs. Barking. Loads and loads of barking. From high-pitched to booming. By this time, his pulse had hit light speed.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Good joke.”

The door slammed behind them with a metallicbangthat brought to mind a prison cell door closing behind him like in a bad movie.

“Relax,” she said, slipping the ticket stubs into her back pocket. “It’ll be good for you, remember?” Without a glance back, she struck out toward a booth decorated with plaid fabric. He focused on the sway of her ass rather than the cacophony of howls and woofs and yaps ricocheting around the space.

This woman might be shy, but this was a fierce play, and a trickle of admiration rose to the surface above the tightness in his chest from the mounting tension of…well, dogs.

“Dr. Nichol!” said a woman wearing a blue-and-yellow plaid skirt and matching sash as she shifted a pointy-eared black dog higher on her hip.

“Hello, Fergus,” Fiona said, scratching the dog on the chin. The dog closed his eyes and tilted his head as if saying, “higher…lower…ah, yeah. Right there.” His back leg spasmed like he was scratching right along with her.

“This is Jacob Ward,” she said, still focusing on the dog but gesturing toward him.

“Oh.” The woman scanned him up and down. “Nice to meet you.” She shifted the dog again and extended her hand. “I’m Carrie James. Are you considering a Scottie? They’re wonderful dogs.” She indicated several others in a baby pen–type contraption to her left and beamed as if showing off her grandkids. “You can pet them if you want.”

He fought the urge to take a step back. “No, but thanks.” He gestured to his nose. “Allergies,” he lied.

The woman frowned and made atsking sound. “That’s a shame. I can’t even imagine how awful it would be to not be able to cuddle a dog. It lowers blood pressure, you know.”

So did meditation and alcohol. In fact, a shot of whisky would be amazing right about now. He glanced over to find Fiona studying him with a serious expression on her face.

The woman in the plaid didn’t seem to notice, and she gushed, “Dr. Nichol is amazing.” She turned to her. “Thanks again for coming to our hotel this morning to check on Bitsy.”

Fiona smiled and reached into the pen of dogs, taking the face of the smallest one between her palms. The dog looked up at her with adoration, tongue lolling out of its mouth. “Bitsy, don’t dig through your mommy’s luggage for a snack again, okay? You gave her a big scare.”

Jake noted she was doing that speaking-through-the-animal thing she’d done on the street the first time he’d spoken with her.

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