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Bride in Training

Год написания книги
2018
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Nick shook his head. “I suppose.” He leaned back again, looking more at ease. “How are you getting along with Nessie?”

The terrier heard her name and made her way back to Nick. When she realized he wasn’t going to pay attention to her again, she curled up at his feet and used his shoe as a pillow.

“She’s a nice dog, but…” That but again. Martin wished he could remove the word from his vocabulary. “That’s another thing about Emily. She suggested dog training, then pushed me off on Molly. I hate the idea of dog training, but if I decided to try it, I can’t go to Molly. Her husband and I do business together. What happens if I do something that riles Molly? There goes that relationship.”

Nick looked thoughtful. “And Steph isn’t training now.”

“Right.” He didn’t want to work with Steph, either. They had finally become friends. One wrong move could destroy that.

“Emily’s been employed there less than a year. Maybe she doesn’t train dogs.”

“She must know something to be a dog-walker and sitter. She told me herself she has a lot of clients. I don’t need classes. Just a few tips.”

Nick looked toward the ceiling as if he’d find the answer there. He finally turned to Martin. “I can ask Steph if she’d talk with Molly. I don’t know if it will do any good if Emily refuses, but Molly loves dogs, and I’m sure she wants you to do a good job with Nessie.”

“That’s all I want. I suppose I could look in the yellow pages for a trainer, but—”

“Hang on before you do that.” He reached down and petted Nessie’s head. “The poor dog has been shifted from one person to another. Time For Paws is familiar to her.” He eyed Martin. “Should I talk with Molly?”

“Yes. Thanks. It’s not really training for the dog. It’s for me.”

“You?” A silly grin stole to Nick’s face and he chuckled. “Even better. Let me see what I can do.”

Martin opened his mouth, then closed it. Let Nick laugh. One day the laugh would be on him. Nick had provided renewed motivation for Martin to be on his best behavior.

His pulse gave a kick. Talk about motivation, he sensed an ulterior motive going on in his brain, but he didn’t want to face it. The least likely person in the world to interest him would be someone like Emily. Nothing in common but a dog. He pictured Emily’s amazing eyes, her protective cover and her vulnerability. Then again, maybe they weren’t so different.

Emily tightened the boxer’s leash. Like most larger dogs, he had the strength of a bull, and she was glad she’d gained a little more muscle mass. She remembered taking her first couple of dog-walking jobs and feeling like the word “failure” was emblazoned on her forehead. When she’d let herself go a few years earlier, she looked gaunt, emaciated to some people, but now that her life had gotten back on track, she continued to work toward a healthier body. Dog-walking provided her a solid means to keep in shape.

Though she felt better about herself, she didn’t want to hear comments about her nice figure or her looks. People called her cute. She didn’t see that either. Her biggest concern was working harder toward a healthier attitude. She wanted to forgot those horrible years that had stifled her for so long. Over and over she’d reminded herself that God had wiped the slate clean, but a slate filled with sin remained vivid in her mind.

She tightened the boxer’s leash again while she located the key for his owner’s house. When she walked inside, the dog darted for his dish, the leash trailing behind him. Emily filled his water dish, unhooked the leash, then located the dry dog food. She emptied some into the dog’s bowl and watched him gobble it.

For a huge dog, this one had manners and always seemed happy when she arrived to walk him. Numerous times she’d been bullied by dogs she’d agreed to walk. She shook her head recalling some of the harrowing experiences, but with this boxer, she only had to battle his kisses.

Kisses. Martin Davis’s lips filled her mind, and Emily’s spine constricted. She hadn’t seen the man since Thursday—four days ago. She shook her head to remove the image of his engaging lips and his beguiling eyes.

Emily stood a moment, gathering her wits, then hung the dog’s leash on its hook and gave the boxer a final pet. As she headed for the door, the sound of her cell phone stopped her. She dug it from her purse and eyed the information. Molly. Molly didn’t phone her often. Emily pushed the button, concerned something might be wrong. Maybe something with Steph. When she heard Molly’s voice, she suspected she was right.

“You didn’t tell me the whole story about Martin Davis.”

Emily flinched. She’d thought she handled everything well. Fairly well. Martin’s request for her card rang in her mind. Maybe she hadn’t been kind when she said no, but she had to protect herself. “What do you mean? He didn’t bring Nessie back, did he?” She hated to think of him doing that to get even, but that evening, he’d charged out the door as if he’d spotted a tiger.

“No. No threats, but we have to keep our clients happy. Steph said he was nice enough when he talked with Nick, but he was upset that Nessie chewed the handle on his attaché case. You didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t know.” She shifted the boxer away from the door and opened it. “She must have done it when he came back into the office to ask some questions.” She decided to avoid the details. Emily slipped outside and checked the lock before heading for her car.

Molly gave a soft chuckle. “Well, that’s not all. The other morning Nick dropped in at Martin’s and heard Nessie had gnawed his Italian leather belt during the night.” Molly’s exhale sounded over the line. “I don’t suppose you warned him.”

“You should have seen him, Molly. He even smiled when Nessie licked his hand.” She stood beside her car, shifting to keep the sun from her eyes. “She’d been good with us, and I didn’t think of it.”

“She had toys here, not expensive leather belts and briefcases.”

Fear of what Molly might want her to do crept through her mind. She hoped she was wrong. “What does he want? Us to replace his belt?”

The line was silent a moment. “No. He wants training, and he would rather not take classes from me, because of his relationship with Brent. That’s what Nick said. They do business together, and…I don’t know, but he told Nick he’d be uncomfortable. So it’s your job. He doesn’t know you.”

And Emily wanted to keep it that way.

“He’s willing to pay extra for private home lessons.”

“Private? Why?” She’d be expected to spend time alone with him. She couldn’t keep him out of her thoughts now, and she’d only seen him once. Twice. The wedding flashed in her mind.

“You know men…especially this one. They have pride. He’s probably embarrassed that the dog knows more than he does.”

Emily stifled a chuckle, thinking of Martin’s know-it-all attitude. Then reality struck. “I’d rather not, Molly.” In the background, a dog’s bark echoed through the phone line.

“Are you afraid of him, or his reputation?”

“Probably his reputation. He was a little snarky Thursday.” Her mind tripped back to that day.

“Maybe he was trying to be funny and failed. You need to understand his bark is worse than his bite, and he doesn’t bark as much as he did.”

That gave Emily a rallying vote of confidence. “I’m still not convinced.” But she had changed. She had the Lord to thank for that. She’d witnessed Martin had changed, too. His tenderness with Nessie filled her mind and his occasional grin.

“I can’t force you, but it would be a favor to me, and Steph, too. Martin’s her brother-in-law.”

Emily let the thought rattle around in her mind. She wanted to protect herself but from what? A man. He wouldn’t give her a second look so what was she worried about?

A sigh escaped her. “I’ll see what I can do.” She tucked the cell phone between her ear and shoulder as she pulled a hunk of paper and a pen from her purse. “Give me the address and phone number.” Resting the paper against her car, she scribbled down the information. “Got it.”

“Thanks. I realize this is beyond the call of duty.”

She could picture Molly’s grin. “I know.”

She closed her phone and slipped it back into her handbag. Something about Martin irked her but intrigued her at the same time. He had gall, expecting a personal home visit. Dog shelters didn’t provide individual service. They did the best they could to save dogs’ lives by making them adoptable. But Martin had clout, and from all she’d heard, he liked getting his own way…unless that had changed, too.

A revelation came to her while talking with Molly, and Emily wanted to take care of that first before calling Martin. And she needed to get her mind in order. She wanted the tone of their meeting to be professional.

Once on the road, Emily realized Martin’s house would be easy to find. He lived next to Steph’s old home, from before she married Nick. Thinking of Steph, her mind clicked back to her first days at the dog shelter. Steph ran her doggie day care in the back of the building while Molly owned the shelter in the front. Both women loved dogs as much as she did, and it seemed like providence when Emily stumbled on the job shortly after the shelter had opened.

Dogs and three women who loved them. Meeting Steph and Molly had been a blessing.

Emily slowed as she approached the next corner. She veered into the right lane and turned. Glad she had the idea, she headed for a pet supply store certain that Martin hadn’t planned ahead. Dogs needed toys, things they could chew, and she wanted to pick up a training device to help Martin. He’d said he knew nothing about working with dogs so a quick lesson seemed suitable.

Shopping took only a minute, and Emily was back in the car. She stared at her handbag. She had to make the call. Thinking of tropical breezes and a lovely sunset, she calmed her thoughts. The technique worked for her. A Caribbean vacation had always been her dream. So romantic. The word jarred her. She forced her mind to a quiet place, then dug into her handbag and pulled out her cell phone.

After locating the scrap of paper with Martin’s phone number, she faced the keypad. Her fingers hesitated as she pressed the numbers. “Get a grip.” The phone rang and in minutes, Martin’s voice rolled through the line.
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