Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
“Sit.”
Nova stared at me, and I stared back. Then I opened my hand, showing him the treat he’d get if he followed the command. “Sit,” I repeated.
At long last, the boxer’s butt hit the floor, his wagging tail swiping a trail through the sand we’d brought in after our walk.
“Good boy!” I tossed him the treat and extended my hand.
“Now, shake.”
No hesitation this time, Nova placed his paw in my palm and allowed me to shake it as if we were in a conference room or on the golf course.
Dropping to my knees, I showered the dog with praise. “Looks like somebody wants their mum to get a note filled with praise instead of shame. Good boys get good notes, don’t they?”
The image of Zoie’s smiling face flitted into my brain and snagged, and I wished I could’ve seen her read the note I’d penned.
Four days had passed since we’d had tea and biscuits on my sofa. In the time since, I’d been hard at work, unearthing bugs in a project. Then squashing and fixing them. No one chatting in my ear, the only sound my keyboard, occasionally underscored by Nova’s panting.
As comforting as it’d been, I was beginning to crave human interaction and adult conversation.
No, that wasn’t it entirely. I’d gone plenty of weeks without much interaction before—once when I was neck-deep in a project, I didn’t emerge or interact with anyone outside of my family and my inbox for an entire month.
What I actually craved was Zoie, and any sort of interaction and conversation would do. It’d be a real gas to show off the tricks in person. All it required was stopping by the bar where she worked like she’d invited me to do.
“Nova? You want to go see your mum at the bar?”
He barked, and my hands were tied. I couldn’t not follow through now that I’d mentioned the idea out loud—it’d break the code. If anything, it meant I had no choice but to cave into my traitorous desires.
For the dog.
Ten minutes later, we were out the door, on our way to the Drunken Kraken.
This was a mistake.
I prided myself at running at an even keel. When it came to work, I could be immovable and occasionally stern, but I didn’t lose my shit.
Didn’t contemplate punching people in the face simply for existing.
Not that I could see the bloke’s face yet.
Already, I knew it wouldn’t matter what it looked like, though. Zoie was standing next to the stool the guy occupied, her elbow propped on his shoulder, that amazing laugh of hers filling the air.
She laughed with him the way she laughed with me.
Hardly a crime, and yet my stomach burned with toxic jealousy.
As he turned, revealing his laughing side-profile, I got confirmation he was the type of guy I’d expected her to be with. All American jock with dark hair and a jaw that could cut glass.
I glanced over my shoulder, calculating how long it’d take me to backtrack and rush out the door.
Then the mutt who got me into this mess in the first place blew our cover. At least the bark was on the quieter side, but he’d obviously heard Zoie’s laugh as well, and I about got my arm yanked out of the socket when he made a beeline in her direction.
Which left me with two options: I could tuck tail and run, dragging Nova along with me and becoming a huge spectacle, or I could suck it up and do what I came here to do. My emotions were making it rather impossible to pretend it’d been all about the tricks, though, and that made me most comfortable of all.
“Is that my baby?” Zoie squatted, throwing her arms wide, and the other tattooed bartender rushed around the counter. He cut her off, and the two of them had a shoving match, fighting each other for Nova’s attention, and just how many men were already tangled in Zoie’s captivating web?
“He’s my dog,” Zoie argued, looping her arms around Nova’s middle.
“Exactly. You get to see him all the time, and I rarely do.” The guy practically clotheslined Zoie as he overtook the front and center position, gathering the pooch’s face in his hands and wiggling the sagging cheeks around in a comical fashion Nova was totally onboard with.
Now I was debating punching him, too. It wouldn’t be an easy fight, that was for sure. But he was shoving a woman.
Shoving Zoie.
Nova’s tail wagged and wagged, thunk-thunk-thunk ing against the stool my other competitor occupied. I found myself hoping he wasn’t a dog person, so that could be my edge.
Except you’re not going to compete over a woman you’ve barely met and will leave behind at the end of the summer.
“Fine. You two bond.” Zoie popped to her feet. “But remember who feeds you and shelters you, Noves.”
Nova licked the guy’s face as he patted his sides and said, “And remember who employs her so that she can feed and shelter you.”
“Whatever. If he thanks anyone, it should be my regulars.” At long last, those blue eyes turned on me, and I wanted to believe the smile she flashed me meant I was her favorite. “Hey, it’s so nice to see you. Unless… Did my puppy do something bad? I was so busy fighting Zac that I forgot to check for a note of shame.”
“Quite the opposite. I thought I’d bring her by to show off her new tricks.” I did a quick scan of the room. The bar wasn’t busy, nor was it empty but there were enough distractions between all the people and flashing lights that the trick might be getting Nova to pay attention to me at all.
“Aww. You taught my baby new tricks? I can’t wait to see!” Zoie glanced at the guy on the stool, and he spun in his seat and peered up at me. I expected a glare, but he aimed an easy smile in my direction. “Ethan, this is my neighbor, Graham. Graham, Ethan.”
“Ah.” Ethan licked foam off his upper lip. “So, you’re the dude who asked out her dog.”
Zoie thwacked the back of his head. “Manners, boys. Come on, we’ve talked about this.”
The tattooed bartender got up off the floor, the ever-wiggly Nova in his arms. “You talked. We let you.” The guy gave me a once-over, his expression stony. Not one to be intimidated, I crossed my arms and met his steady gaze head on.
His assessment came across as more protective than possessive, and that made it easier not to take offense.
If he could threaten me to take care of Zoie with a stern glare, I figured I got to do the same. He barely lifted his chin in a nod, I returned the gesture, and that was that.
With him, anyway.
I still couldn’t put my finger on the vibe between her and the man who looked like he belonged in a boy band. I didn’t exactly like that I was “the neighbor” and “dude who asked out her dog.”
With introductions out of the way, it was time to show off what I’d taught Nova while borrowing him. Basically, I’d gone from Fortune 500 CEO to dog sitter. Hardly a demotion in my book, although my company would always be my baby, which sounded a lot sadder in my head, so it’d remain there.
“Ready to show off our tricks?” I patted my pocket with the treats so he’d remember why he was more motivated. “Nova, sit.”
For a handful of tense seconds, I thought I’d end up putting on a one-man show—a rowdy group in the corner caught the boxer pup’s attention and she considered racing over there before I gave a light tug on the lead and said, a little louder and firmer. “Nova, sit.”
He coked his head, ears perked….
Then his rump hit the floor.
“You did it! I?—”
Now I was the one doing the clothesline move, holding Zoie back with a gentle arm so Nova wouldn’t forget we weren’t done with our show-and-tell. “Not yet. There’s one more part to our little act.”
I extended a palm and commanded, “Nova, shake.”
Nova glanced at Zoie and then me, and ever-so-slowly lifted his paw and placed it in my hand.
Zoie remained perfectly frozen at my side, and I couldn’t help but notice the rise and fall of her chest, along with how close my forearm was to her breasts. Then she cocked her head, mimicking her dog. “Am I free to applaud now?”
“All right, but when it comes to tips, I prefer drinks to applause.”
“Smartass,” she said, the backhand she gave me much lighter than the one she delivered to Ethan.
Yep, that definitely means she likes me best.
After bestowing her puppy with praise, Zoie rounded the bar, Nova trailing behind her. “Well, you’ve shown off your trick, so I suppose it’s only fair for me to show you mine.”
I clamped my lips to prevent myself from saying I was fully onboard with the show me yours, I’ll show you mine game. Both of the guys she’d introduced me to gaped on, plainly curious to see if I’d take the bait. “Let’s see it, then.”
At the high-pitched whine, Zoie glanced down. “Sorry. Somebody has gotten into a bad habit.” She hefted the puppy, holding him like a toddler on her hip and gave his cheek a smacking kiss. “It’s me, in case that wasn’t clear. I can’t say no to this face.”
A couple of women approached the bar, cooing over the puppy while shooting lingering glances at Zac and Ethan. Out of the three of them, Nova was the only one who engaged, save Zac telling Zoie he’d make their drink order.
Then Ethan looked directly at me and patted the stool next to him. “Pop a squat. I have a feeling you’re about to get a crash course in Zoie, and that takes a few minutes.” He cast her a smile, his teasing tone clear.
“Come on, superstar,” Ethan said, standing and leaning over the bar to take Nova from Zoie. “I still haven’t had my turn.”
The entire scenario struck me as a bizarre, shared custody situation. My mind was still struggling to wrap itself around it all when Ethan took hold of Nova’s lead, uttered the words, “Enjoy your trip to the stars,” and headed outside with the dog.
“What Ethan means is I’m not going to ask you what you want to drink,” Zoie said, sweeping her hands over the counter space between us. “Rather, I’m going to ask you a series of questions so I can create your signature cocktail.”
It took me a handful of seconds to wade through the words, but at the end of it all, they still didn’t make any sense. “From there, I create a cocktail unique to the person.”
She obviously enjoyed the challenge of it, and that ignited a zing through my veins as well.
The series of questions that followed, however…? I’d had the occasional reporter pry, and I was too open a book in my last relationship. I’d exposed the chinks in my armor, providing Hannah with what she needed to hurt me most.
Since it was hardly fair to judge Zoie because of my past, I exhaled a breath and did my best to be open to the idea. I could always sidestep a question if the need arose. Regardless of the reason, someone who balked at answering a few simple questions—for a cocktail, nonetheless—would come off as rather rude.
“Ready to play?” Zoie asked, excitement radiating off her, a twinkle in her purple-lined eyes.
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, and that was a little too true, as well.