Chapter Nine
Brody
After CC’s class, we wandered into the retail portion of the training center to kill time. Lily’s class would end soon, and then we could talk about the mill progress. After I bought a bag of CC’s favorite treats, I let her make the rounds in the large building.
She used to avoid strangers. One by one, the people at the Unruly Dog had won her over with treats and affection. She was more confident now, her ears perked up instead of laid back against her head. She’d also started seeking out strangers to say hello.
We wandered to the indoor dog fountain next to the shop and she slurped up a decent amount. After I wiped her jowls with a golf towel—something that went everywhere with us now—we walked around the training center. A puppy class was going on in one area, everyone trying to get their dogs to sit on a mat, and the sound of clickers punctuated their success. Another had a tricks class where a dog was balanced on her owner’s upstretched feet. In a third area, a white-faced dachshund wormed her way through straw bales. “Rat!” the woman yelled, raising her hand. The instructor pulled a transparent, ventilated tube out of the straw where the dog had been sniffing. In another area, two teams of dogs from Chihuahua sized up to husky sized competed against each other, jumping a series of hurdles to retrieve a ball from a machine. As soon as they hit the platform and the ball launched into their mouths, they dashed back so the next dog could go.
Outside the agility ring, I watched Lily teach as CC found a cool spot on the concrete at my feet and started snoring. The space was big, probably fifty yards by thirty yards, with obstacles all around. Lily was sitting on the floor at one end of a tunnel with her legs crossed. “Snorts, you’re up!”
Snorts’s owner stepped up to the opposite end of the tunnel with the bulldog. “Snorts, tunnel!” she yelled, but the dog hesitated.
Lily peeked through the far end and called him. “Let’s go, buddy! C’mon!” The dog reared up like a bull, throwing his butt to one side before dashing through the tunnel only to crash into Lily’s lap. “Yay! Good boy!” She scratched his ears as the dog snorted and licked at her chin. Once his mom clipped his leash on, they headed for the back of the line of students.
“Murphy.”
His owner unhooked his leash, but this pup didn’t hesitate—he dashed through, got his treat, turned around and ran back into the tunnel, only to fly out of the entrance.
“Murphy is a tunnel sucker.”
Lily’s laugh hit me low in the gut.
Dusting off her pants, she adjusted the height on two jumps—one before and one after the tunnel. “Okay, let’s put it together.
“Your dog is going to go jump, tunnel, jump. Then, you’re going to bring the dog around the side of the jump, back into the tunnel, ending with the first jump. Got it?” Class nodded, though I could see their nerves. “Khloe, first. Then, Snorts, Phineas, Nelson, Murphy, and Bandit.”
Each dog took their turn, some better than others, but all of them were having fun while Lily called out adjustments to the owners. “Call Murphy’s name as he’s taking the jump, so his attention is on you when he lands. Keep your feet moving when you reach the tunnel, too. Or you’re communicating to him it’s okay to stop.”
When it was Snorts’s turn, Lily kneeled at the end of the tunnel to make sure he got a treat for going through. “Okay, gang, that’s all today. Next week, we’re going to start learning the dog walk.” She pointed to a long, narrow bridge painted yellow on each end.
That was when Snorts’s mom made her way over to Lily while glancing up at me.
As they came my way, I couldn’t help but admire the sway in Lily’s hips. “Good class?”
“Hey, Brody, come meet your namesake! His mama was hoping you’d sign his jersey.” Lily’s grin was something to see. So was the bulldog’s smile.
“He has a jersey?”
“Yes, in my car! If you wouldn’t mind, I mean.” Snorts’s mom had a shy smile.
“Don’t mind at all. Snorts is the kind of dude I could use on the line.”
His mom chuckled, handing Lily the leash before taking off for her car.
I bent to scratch the dog and couldn’t help grabbing his snout in a playful shake. “Hey bud, you wanna job on the defense? You look like a tackle if I’ve ever seen one.” The bulldog danced around, making happy snorts while he chased my hand. “My namesake?” I turned to Lily.
“Snorts is a conformation dog. He has a registered name and a call name. Prepare yourself for some selfie-love. I think Snorts’s mom has the hots for you.” She grinned, pushed her hair back, gathering it into a ponytail that exposed the creamy skin of her neck. Damn, I wanted to put my lips there.
“Too bad all I can think about is you.” It slipped out, but it was for damn sure the truth. Lily was on my mind more than I’d like to admit.
At least for a second, she looked caught off guard. Then she stepped it up. “Pfft. Yeah, right. I saw the photos in Dallas Life I always have a handful of students who give it a try, though. A few of those will go on to earn titles with their dogs.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “How?” This sounded like something CC and I could do.
“There’s a class system. Each dog has to earn enough points from clean runs to receive a title and advance to the next level.” With pride in the set of her shoulders, Lily patted Jet’s head. “Jet has her MACH—Master’s Agility Champion—title. We’re working on her premium title so we can make the world team.”
Now I really wanted to see them run. “Are you going to show me what she can do?” I nodded at the dog.
The curl of Lily’s lip was sly.
She turned on her heel, opening the door to enter the ring with Jet at her side. Annnd, once again I found myself staring at her ass. For fuck’s sake. Maybe if we just slept together... BAD IDEA.
Was it? Or would we get it out of our system?
Hmm. Was I really entertaining this? Would she? If it was possible to get her out of my system, why did it rankle that she believed the hype? I understood what it looked like, but if she’d only try to see past it...
I watched Lily set Jet in front of a jump on one of the outer edges of the course.
“Jet, time to go to work.”
The Aussie’s entire demeanor changed. Her body was stiff, coiled, her eyes laser-focused on her human. Putting the dog in a sit, Lily walked twenty yards ahead. Jet’s front legs literally shook, vibrating with energy waiting to be released.
Finally, Lily yelled, “Jet, break.”
The dog took off in a streak of red and white fur, taking two jumps on her own before catching up with her handler, who was also off and running.
Lily’s instructions came swift and clear as she pointed where she wanted Jet to go while yelling out instructions. “Tunnel!” Jet hit a curved tunnel under the dog walk at breakneck speed. The thing rattled like tectonic plates had shifted underneath it. When the streak that was Jet reemerged, her coach had moved on.
“Back!” She made a pushing motion with her hand, and Jet crossed behind the jump and took it from the backside, jumping toward Lily. Before the Aussie’s feet hit the floor, her handler was yelling the next direction.
“Walk it!” Jet flew up one end of a long narrow bridge and galloped along the plank. “Hit, Jet, hit!” Jet’s paws slapped the yellow-painted end of the bridge before she launched off.
It was poetic, the way they worked together. Lily had to mind where she was in relation to the dog to make difficult turns, avoid running over her dog, take each obstacle in the correct order—at the correct angle—and as quickly as possible without going off course.
It was a ballet of plays called and audibles made. Even Lily’s body language communicated with the dog like a receiver’s did with me before he made a grab at the ball.
“Frame!” she yelled, and Jet scampered up a large A-frame, flying over the top without her feet touching down. Lily’s directions never stopped. “Jump! Right! Jump! Tunnel! Go bang!” The dog scampered over a teeter-totter that fell to the ground as Jet moved over it.
How in the hell did you even teach a dog to do that? To ride the movement all the way to the ground. Jet didn’t budge until the end she stood on hit the floor with a bang. Next, she snaked through a difficult set of jumps that required Lily use quick hand signals Jet interpreted with ease.
“Weave!” This was the most spectacular thing to watch. Entering on her left shoulder, Jet weaved in and out at light speed, snaking her lithe body through a long, straight line of flexible poles. It reminded me of an old-school tire drill. Jet didn’t miss a single one; she managed to appear as if she were dancing instead of weaving between poles.
After the poles, the Aussie took one more jump and her trainer threw her hands in the air. “Yes, girl. Yesss!” The dog jumped into Lily’s arms, tongue lolling wildly as both dog and trainer pushed out hard breaths.
I whistled and applauded. I’d never seen Jet look more doglike. She always had a feline quality about her, but right then—in Lily’s arms—she was all happy, goofy puppy and they were a kick-ass team.
And Lily... I was in awe. All those curves and strength. Legs churning, arms pumping. My thirst was real. I was damn impressed with Lil’s own agility, speed, and ability to think as she moved.
Remind you of someone?
Sideways. I was fucked sideways. Because I would have given up my MVP trophies, pro-bowl selections, my left nut, and my job to be with her at that moment.
Setting Jet on the floor, she walked toward me with an exaggerated sway of her hips, the upturned lips. The flint in her violet eyes as she made her way to me.
Damn, I wanted her. All of her. The confident trainer. The sexy siren. The smart and brave crusader.
You stupid asshole.
Yep. That about summed it up.