Page 15 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

Sounded good to me.

As for how he knew Judge Davenport—that could wait too. I had to make sure Bob was okay, and if he was, if I still had a job offer.

Nothing else mattered right now.

I got out of my car and realized I’d dropped my purse somewhere along the way. I had stuck my car keys in my pocket, so I hadn’t known until just now. I was totally out of my element here and fumbling any number of balls.

Yet I wasn’t leaving. Oh, I’d fully intended to when I stormed out. But once I was out in the fresh air, something had told me not to be hasty. Not to run.

I didn’t know why. Except my gut never steered me wrong. And neither did my daughter.

I lifted my hand to knock with the heavy brass dragon’s head knocker on the door—earlier I’d used the gong-like doorbell, and I wasn’t doing that again—when the door flew open. Dex stepped forward, my red patent leather purse over one shoulder.

A laugh burst out of me at the ridiculousness of this muscled, tattooed guy wearing a tiny purse over one shoulder. Then I glimpsed Bob on a blanket on the floor in the family room while the vet administered some shot and I forgot all about accessories.

“Oh, Bob, is he going to be okay?” I rushed past Dex into the other room while the vet glanced up at me and smiled.

He had the best patient vet smile I’d ever seen. And patient green eyes. “He’s going to be just fine. Just cake wasted.”

I laughed again, and Bob weakly lifted his head and wagged his stubby tail at the sound of my laughter. “Hi, Bob. Did your dad give you too much cake?” I stroked his nose, and he moaned in canine pleasure.

“His dad gave him no cake. I know better. He stole it.” Dex came over to sit on the edge of the coffee table, close but not too close. Still wearing the purse.

He’d changed his jeans to a lighter denim wash. Odd.

I gestured to the syringe the vet was now putting back in his doctor’s satchel. “So what was that for then?”

“Some pain meds while his stomach is so full. He’s probably uncomfortable right now, although he’s already seeming more at ease. He likes all the attention, don’t you, big boy?” He rubbed Bob’s belly and instead of seeming distressed, he rolled around in obvious delight.

“Same way the women react to this dude.” Dex’s open disgust made his pal grin.

“Yeah, right. You know there’s only one woman for me, wise guy.” The vet pointed at Dex. “Since you were my best man a mere six weeks ago.”

Best man? Dex? I didn’t know why that surprised me. He seemed like the sort who was allergic to weddings, but as long as it wasn’t his own, maybe it was just fine.

“Yeah.” Dex shuddered before he flashed a smile. “Gotta make that woman of yours honest before she pops.”

“Getting married pre-childbirth isn’t necessary anymore,” I announced primly as both grinning men looked my way. “Just saying,” I added as all conversation ceased.

Great. I didn’t even know the vet and I was lecturing him about his marriage. I barely knew Dex. Maybe I should get the hell out of there once and for all.

“I’m Clint,” the vet said, extending a hand to me. “And you are?”

“My new decorator,” Dex informed him, thereby answering the question in my head if my job offer still remained. “Shelby Wilde. Or Pink Pantsuit Hottie,” he added as I flushed. But he wasn’t done. “Or today, Sherbet. Because her skin doesn’t turn pink when she’s embarrassed. More peach.”

I was tempted to kick him in the nuts. But I was too busy shaking Clint’s hand and smiling like a dolt.

Nothing odd here. Nope.

“Oh, okay. Hi Shelby. Is it okay if I call you Shelby?”

“Sure.” I dropped his hand and rubbed my damp one on my skirt. Not damp from Clint. He was damn good-looking—and newly married.

No, my nerves were solely due to the guy in the super hero T-shirt with the smart mouth.

“Please do. No nicknames needed.”

“Not even Fire-Breathing Mama?” Dex lifted his brows innocently while Bob looked back and forth between us all as if he was wondering why he was no longer getting pets.

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