9. Lizzy
Lizzy
“Oodles, no, no, no!” I cried out.
It was early next morning on a long walk, and Oodles was rolling gleefully in a deep mud puddle in the forest.
At the sound of my voice, my mud-covered pup popped up excitedly like a squirrel.
Frantically, I waved in the direction of the river. “Let’s go wash off.”
Clearly mistaking my gestures for enthusiasm, he bounded in my direction and, with a running jump, leaped on me. His muddy paws slid all the way down my front.
Oh shit. “Oodles, bloody hell.”
It was done now. I knew I should have scolded him, but instead, I couldn’t help laughing.
Doubly proud of himself, he bounded off along the path toward the meadows surrounding the house.
Still laughing, I sprinted behind him, jumping over the roots and branches on the track.
Racing like this, the wind in my hair, the light dappling through the trees, put me in a different frame of mind to deal with the weekend.
I was determined to make the best of it.
Avoid Rude Man until Sunday lunchtime. I could do that for a day and a half.
Emerging from the forest path, I caught a glimpse of a tall, dark-haired, well-built man. I stopped. In the field where Knightley had set up for the dog training, Darcy was standing with arms outstretched. His dog Max bounded toward him, a blur of red fur.
“Oodles! Here!” I grabbed his collar, guided him behind a tree, and picked him up.
The man I wanted to avoid was everywhere, apparently. And I couldn’t fool myself—he didn’t like me either. I’d been fleetingly muddled about a moment between us that hadn’t existed, but now, I was in my right mind. I hoped Darcy left soon so we wouldn’t have to talk.
“Who’s a good boy, eh?” Darcy cooed in a soft, encouraging voice. “Who’s the best, most beautiful doggie in the world?” His furry pet waggled his head. “Yeah, it’s you, lovely boy.”
Max gave Darcy a sloppy lick on the face, and Darcy fell backward onto the grass, hooting with laughter.
What the hell was I hearing? What on earth was I seeing? An endearingly boyish side to this uptight, boorish man I’d met last night.
Max rolled over, and Darcy grinned and rubbed his dog’s stomach, murmuring sweet nothings. At the sight of them together, Oodles struggled in my arms to get away, covering me in even more mud.
Eventually, Max rolled to his feet, and with a few gentle words from Darcy, he raced off and leaped over a fence, zoomed around the obstacles, then slowed down to nudge a Bosu ball with his nose.
Max was trained and already had this course down pat.
They would surely win tomorrow’s scheduled animal training event.
The two of them fitted each other’s personality, restrained and disciplined.
But how had Max learned this course so quickly?
Surely it was the result of some concentrated training.
Had they been out here the full two hours I was gone with Oodles?
Hang on. Was Darcy trying to win this event?
Oh my God. This man was the limit. He was training his dog for a stupid dating weekend event. Was he that competitive? Clearly. Ugh. I thought he was bad enough last night, but using his dog to win an event so he could lord it over the rest of us?
Then Oodles scrambled out of my arms and raced toward Max as he leaped athletically over another obstacle.
The contrast between the two dogs was stark.
Oodles was a multicolored jumble of fluff with big, goofy eyes and the attention span of a gnat.
In contrast, Max was all tall, groomed, soaring legs, and flowing tail.
He was gliding over a fence with the grace you would imagine of a hunting crossbreed, presumably with centuries of following instructions.
Unimpressed, Oodles ran to him. Friend! Hey!
Oodles bounced and barked, living up to his name.
Despite his appearance and lack of dexterity and athleticism, my furry Muppet had endless confidence.
Max bounced back.
“Max,” called Darcy. “C’mon, boy. Let’s do the tires next.”
But Max was well distracted.
Darcy looked at me, exasperated, as if to say, Yes, I would have expected you to have a dog like this. I should have been annoyed and insulted at his frustrated glare, but my dog had led his pup astray, and that made me hum with delight instead.
Oodles did his downward dog, tongue out. Wanna play? Come on! Max gave an excited wag. Yeah, go on, then. They bounded off, dancing around each other, having fun, oblivious to Darcy’s cries about the course. The dogs were already firm friends.
I stood still, determined not to go over. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t have to deal with him this weekend, and I was keeping that promise. Darcy, however, gestured for me to join him.
What now? Was he going to tell me off about my dog interrupting their training? Clearly. Nope, staying here.
He beckoned me again, and this time, I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t seen. I wanted to serve him a spoonful of his own rudeness, but I couldn’t ignore him—that wasn’t me.
As if I were trudging out a death march, I slowly paced toward him until we were an arm’s length away.
His expensive bergamot cologne and a hint of his masculine sweat hit the back of my nostrils, sharp and intimate, and I faltered.
He was dressed all in black leisure wear, his tight T-shirt showing off his defined pecs.
Formfitting pants fell sleekly low on his hips and over his long legs, with matching black sneakers in a brand I’d never seen before.
In contrast, my top and sweats were covered in mud.
He looked at my grubby clothes. I fully expected some sort of judgment. Instead, he smiled in a friendly fashion.
“Looks as though you’ve been having fun. Want to go in and grab a coffee?”
“Um.” Surprised, I hesitated. Did I want to have coffee with him?
A new, unexpected expression crossed his face, brief and subtle. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Would you prefer to be on your own?”
I searched his eyes for something I’d seen in that fragment of time.
My novels were filled with these moments, of one person betraying their deepest thoughts through their expressions or words, the other person trying to puzzle it out.
I was certain of what I’d seen there…a loneliness and longing that shocked me.
But what on earth could have caused it? He had what others strove for—looks, wealth, position.
Something about that look in his eyes touched me. I wanted to ease that unhappiness.
“I’d love some company,” I said.