The Dog Sitter: The new feel-good romantic comedy of 2021 from the bestselling author of The Wedding Date!

by Zara Stoneley

  This is not good. It makes me feel as squirmy as the dog, who, upset at being ignored, launches herself at him, using my chest as a stepping-stone. She nearly gives him a black eye in the process, and sends him flat on his back. He tries to hold her at arm’s length, to stop her licking his mouth. She seems to have a thing about kissing on the lips. I just get the foot in the face.

  He starts laughing and I can’t help it. I join in. Which seems to egg Bella on, and she launches herself at him again, this time trying to get the squeaky toy that I’ve just spotted in his hand – which he flings across the lawn for her.

  ‘Come here often?’ I say it in the end, just for something to fill the awkward gap, and stop myself from staring. I’m still lying on my back.

  ‘I used to.’ He nods without breaking eye contact, a hint of humour teasing the corner of his mouth. He’s got lovely big dimples. They make his angular, chiselled features softer. Appealing. I could imagine kissing a man like him. Well, I did. Last night. In bed. Firm lips, firm hands, firm body. ‘You are sure you’re okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

  I realise I’m rubbing my elbow again and stop, because I probably look like a complete wimp. Then I gulp to dismiss all those thoughts of firmness. ‘You weren’t planning on upsetting Georgina?’

  ‘Would I?’ He lifts an eyebrow. I suspect this man has a wicked sense of humour hidden underneath that strong exterior, although that could be me fantasising again. He’s got his boots on again, as well as his combat trousers and olive-green T-shirt. Camouflage. He’s also now holding the squeaky toy that Bella has retrieved. And then I notice something on the ground beside him and forget all about his sexiness.

  Wire cutters!

  I look at them pointedly. ‘Really?’

  ‘Bit of DIY to start the day!’

  I can’t let him charm me. I cannot. Georgina told me not to talk to him, because she must have known this would happen. And whether he is a sneaky bastard or not, it is not my place to judge. Only to look after Bella. ‘You’d better not have made a bloody hole in the fence!’

  He doesn’t admit or deny anything. He just gives me his steady gaze which I try and hold. Then he blinks. Bugger, that makes me squirm and blush. Annoying – I do not categorise myself as the type of girl who blushes just because somebody looks at me. Never happened before. Not with Teddy, or any past boyfriend.

  Ash is the only man I’ve ever come across who can make me feel wobbly by not moving, or saying anything, or doing absolutely anything at all apart from look at me. And wink.

  Oh my God, he’s grinning again now. I need to get away from him.

  It must be a special SAS skill. Charming the enemy. Not that I’m his enemy, he is mine. Or rather Georgina’s.

  Bella bounces back, the toy in her mouth looking slightly chewed up and now just wheezing out air rather than squeaking properly. I know how it feels. Exhausted.

  ‘Bella, come here.’ This time I manage to grab her collar. ‘I will be so cross if I have to check all the fences!’ I’m going to have to. I’ll never forgive myself if she manages to get out of the garden.

  He rolls on his side, props himself up on one elbow and shakes his head slowly, a lazy smile playing across his firm mouth.

  Must not let my head get back onto that topic of firmness.

  ‘I was mending them, not breaking them.’ He waves the wire cutters. ‘Pliers, not cutters, for twisting it back together. Look.’

  I look, but to be honest wouldn’t know one from the other. They’re just pointy tools. ‘You don’t even live here! Why would you…’

  ‘I don’t want Bella getting out, do I?’

  ‘You don’t?’ I’m a bit confused.

  ‘I don’t want her getting hurt, or lost, but I do want her back.’

  He sits up, his forearms resting on his knees. His voice is still at the same pitch, even, but there’s a kind of non-negotiable edge to it that makes me feel uneasy. Like I’m being issued with some kind of warning.

  I gulp down my reaction. I have a job to do. For Georgina. ‘She’s not yours to have, she’s Georgina’s.’

  ‘Nope, she’s more mine than Georgie’s. I picked her, I fed her, I trained her, I walked her. All Georgie did was take photos and use her to get freebies. It would be easier if you’d just hand her over, let me have her.’

  Oh. This is awkward. I blink at him while I take this in. He looks like he’s telling the truth. And Bella acts like he’s a pretty important part of her life. But I haven’t seen her with Georgina, have I? She might want to snog everybody. She could be one of those dogs who loves anybody that is nice to her.

  I am confused.

  ‘Come on.’ He gestures at me to hand her over.

  ‘No way.’ Even if he’s telling the truth, she’s still Georgina’s, isn’t she? I’ve still got an agreement to dog-sit, I promised to take care of her. I hang on tighter and Bella coughs. Flipping heck, I mustn’t strangle her. I soften my grip on her collar a bit.

  ‘Please yourself.’ Phew, that was easier than I thought. ‘You don’t leave me much option then, do you?’ Oops.

  ‘I don’t?’ I have gone really squeaky now and there’s a flutter of anticipation in my stomach. What’s he going to do? Murder me in my bed?

  ‘I’m going to have to come and get her. I’m going to get her back, whatever it takes.’ He folds his arms. ‘And whatever Georgina has told you, I’m not the gardener, and I’m not the dog walker, I’m her ex.’

  ‘I know.’ If he murders me, everybody will know it was him. He’s not going to be that daft, is he?

  Unless he’s planning on skipping the country. Can you skip the country with a dog? Has Bella got a passport?

  ‘Well, if you know so much, then you’ll know I don’t need to cut down fences to get in here.’

  ‘Will I?’

  ‘I just open the gate, like anybody else who lives here would do.’

  Ahh. Georgina hasn’t changed the code on the gate. Bit of a slip-up for such a paranoid, security-conscious person. All this is her flaming fault. Which makes me angry and stops me worrying about being suffocated in my bed. ‘Right.’ I struggle into a sitting position and wince. I think I’ve got friction burns down my side, and probably nasty grass stains. And my elbow still hurts.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ There’s a look of concern on his face which takes me by surprise.

  ‘I think you two are going to kill me! All this running up hills.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Well, maybe not running, but all the walks, and games. And being thrown on the floor!’

  ‘This terrain is rough, if you’re not used to it.’ He used the word terrain, definitely SAS. ‘Sounds like you need a workout, a bit of toning up!’ It’s my turn to pull a face, and he adds hastily, ‘Not that you look like you need toning, I meant a bit of stamina-building exercise, you know.’ He does a bit of mock weight-lifting, which lifts his top and shows a hint of… oh my God, I feel faint, that sliver of skin is so brown, so fat-free, so… I need to see more. And maybe he’s right, I need to be a bit more fat-free myself. ‘Tell you what.’ He smiles, and it is a very appealing, gentle smile. ‘Ash’s bootcamp could be the answer!’

  Chapter Six

  ‘What?’ Ash runs a bootcamp?

  ‘Go for the burn!’ I don’t like the sound of that. ‘You’ll find running up the fells after Bella a piece of cake after a couple of sessions!’

  ‘I will?’

  ‘Yup! Five days to fitness!’ His eyes are twinkling. It is very appealing, and distracting. Five days. Five opportunities to ogle Ash’s body.

  ‘With you?’ Just to be sure.

  ‘With me.’

  ‘And how much would this cost me?’

  ‘Nothing, it’s for Bella!’ He grins at the dog. ‘Have to give you a sporting chance to chase me if I run off with her!’

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘And I’ve got some spare time, I’d be doing the exercises on my own anyway.’ He shrugs. ‘Nothing wrong with a
bit of company. And—’ he waves a hand to encompass the surroundings, ‘—it’s a great place to do it, fresh air, sun…’

  I am tempted, very tempted. I did promise myself I’d do things differently here. Try new things. And I am out of condition. And… oh, who am I trying to kid? I have an SAS man at my disposal. I want to see more of that body, I might get bored stuck out in the sticks with only Netflix and a naughty dog for company. He’s right. Company is good, and I’m still not sure how serious he is about trying to run off with Bella, but if she’s in the house and he’s putting me through my paces then at least she’s safe.

  Okay, I just want to see his body.

  ‘I know some good moves.’ I bet he does. ‘If you’re up to the challenge, that is?’ He flexes his bicep. ‘Quite understand if you’re not.’

  ‘Of course, I am!’ I can’t say no. I am not the kind of girl who will admit defeat.

  ‘You’re up for it?’ He is grinning.

  ‘Sure!’ Sure? Did I just say sure? ‘Sorry, must go, Bella wants her breakfast!’ This time I manage to get to my feet without yelping, and without letting go of the dog.

  I drag Bella a couple of steps and realise it isn’t going to work, so give up and pick her up. Bloody hell, she’s heavy… and wriggly.

  She keeps glancing back longingly over my shoulder as I stagger across the lawn hanging on to her. I know how she feels, but I. Must. Not. Look. Back.

  ‘Let’s do this then!’ His voice carries clearly across the large lawn.

  I stop. ‘What?’

  ‘Bootcamp!’

  ‘Now?’ I spin around. Who said anything about now? I need to think about this, plan, find something to wear that shows off my good bits and hides the wobbly bits. A top that will soak up sweat and hide damp patches.

  ‘You’ve not had breakfast, have you?’

  Breakfast? Does he know what time it is? I’d still be in bed if I was back at home, still be debating whether it was worth the effort to haul myself up and sit at my desk waiting for inspiration. I’m only up because of Bella!

  ‘Er, no.’

  ‘Perfect, you don’t want to do it on a full stomach! No time like the present then. Feed Bella and get some trainers on and we’ll go for it.’ He claps his hands together.

  Go for it? I feel faint. I spin back round and take a step towards the house.

  ‘Nice PJs, by the way!’

  I glance down. Bugger! I’d forgotten about them.

  Not turning round though. Definitely not. Partly because my face is now completely burning up.

  ‘Crap camouflage!’ I yell back. ‘You need to skip the squeaks next time!’ Which is a bit of a silly thing to say really. Because firstly, I’m suggesting he should do it again, and secondly, I’m giving him hints on how to do a better job.

  But bloody hell, not only have I been fraternising with the enemy, I’ve been lying on the ground with him in my skimpy sausage-dog nightwear and slippers! And I have agreed to get hot and sweaty with him on the lawn.

  ‘I’ll give you five minutes; we can do it here!’

  ‘Never a dull moment round here, is there? You’d better not tell Georgina about this.’ I wave a finger at Bella as I close the door firmly and let go of her collar, then turn the key in the lock.

  Bella pads off to the kitchen, wagging her tail as she goes, then sits down next to her bowl and waits for her breakfast.

  Squeaky toys and food are obviously the way to this girl’s heart. We’ll get on fine. Or maybe not. I glance at the toy she’s dropped at her feet. She’s managed to bite a hole out of it, which explains the wheezing. It is now a lobotomised squirrel.

  ‘You don’t tell her about us talking to him, and I won’t tell her you ruined your toy. Deal?’

  She barks.

  ‘Did he really pick you?’

  She wags her tail, then whines and looks at her bowl pointedly.

  One bonus about dog-sitting, I guess, is that she adds structure to the day. No way is this bundle of fluff going to let me mope about the house in my PJs all morning.

  ‘I guess I’d better get dressed then?’ Bella doesn’t answer, she’s busy licking her bowl. ‘I do have to do this? No way out?’ He is SAS, how can I say no to such an opportunity? I’ve been meaning to get fit for ages, I just haven’t had time. But now I have.

  This will kickstart the new healthy Becky. Healthy body, healthy mind and all that. And quite a nice body to admire while I’m sorting my own one out.

  I might even cut down on the wine and fill the fruit bowl.

  Maybe. I think I’ll see how it goes first.

  The only question is, with all the walking, playing, fence-checking, tidying up and cuddling, not forgetting impromptu workouts – am I actually going to have time to do any work?

  I have not come equipped for bootcamp. I do have running shoes, which I actually brought for walking as they are comfy. I had no plans to run anywhere. I do not have any go-faster Lycra, just some leggings. Nothing else is stretchy enough. And a strappy T-shirt. If I’d been at home and knew this was going to happen, I’d have gone shopping and invested in the latest ‘bootcamp wear’ like you do. I mean, nobody just throws on old clothes, do they?

  ‘Great!’ Ash is jogging on the spot. I wish he’d stop; he’s making me feel tired already. ‘Come on, let’s get started!’ He claps his hands together and sets off across the lawn at a jog. ‘We’ll start off slow.’ He calls that slow? I was thinking more power walking. But this is bootcamp, and I do want to get a bit fitter, don’t I?

  I set off after him.

  Actually, this is easy. And I’ve never seen such a toned bum in real life, no wobbling there. And that is inspiring.

  ‘Let’s step it up a bit, get you properly warmed up!’ Ash has turned to face me. He is currently jogging backwards up the slope of the lawn. It’s deceptive, it looked like a gentle incline but now I’m expected to run up it I realise that it is in fact a proper hill, a very steep hill.

  Properly warmed up, what does he mean properly? I am already more than warm: I am past the simmering stage, I am boiling hot. This is it, isn’t it? We’re working out, or rather I am.

  What’s wrong with staying on level ground? Oh my God, my legs are feeling heavier by the second. ‘Three more laps then we’ll get down to the serious stuff!’

  ‘Three?’ I pant out. Serious? What does he mean, serious?

  ‘Want to do more?’ He’s grinning, as though this is a walk in the park.

  ‘No.’ I grit my teeth. I am not going to give up. I can do three laps. It’s only a garden. On a hill.

  Oh my God. I am going to die. My legs have gone all wobbly. My face is burning up and I’m literally dripping with sweat. You know that ‘challenge’? Well, I have just realised I am not up to it. Not at all.

  ‘You can do it!’

  He’s mad. I’m mad. I haven’t even got the energy to ogle his body any longer, I’m concentrating too hard on staying alive.

  ‘I can’t!’ I stagger. I can’t even go in a straight line.

  ‘You can, come on.’ He’s in front, facing me, urging me on, his large, strong hands tantalisingly close. ‘Nearly, nearly there, and… rest! That was brilliant, well done!’

  I need oxygen! I sink down onto the grass on my hands and knees.

  ‘Breathe – in, out, you got this!’ I think he wants a high five. No way. ‘Right, on your back.’ This is more like it. ‘A few crunches.’

  ‘Crunchie?’ My voice might be weak, but something inside me has perked up. He’s offering chocolate – I can do this. If I get chocolate, I can do it.

  ‘Crunches.’ He chuckles, puts his hands behind his head and dips backwards and forwards.

  Shit, he means sit-ups.

  ‘Let’s give your legs a break and think about your core!’

  What does he mean, my core? I can’t think about my core or anything, apart from chocolate. I need food.

  ‘Knees up!’

  ‘Now?’ The word ‘rest’ to m
e means at least ten minutes, and a drink. I think I need wine actually, not water.

  He has his hands on my legs. I’d kick him if I had the energy. He is not sexy, he is evil.

  ‘Hands by your ears, and I’ll count. We’ll start off small, say ten? Concentrate on me and it’ll be easy.’

  I look into his eyes. Okay, he is sexy. When I’m lying on my back and not trying to move. Oh heck, his warm palm on my calf is definitely sexy. He strokes it down and parts of me tingle. Rests it on my ankle.

  ‘I’ve got you, let’s do this! Ready?’

  ‘Yup.’ I grit my teeth. I can do ten. I used to be able to do fifty when me and Dad had competitions. Okay, I was about ten years old, but it can’t be that difficult.

  Isn’t ten a massive number? Five is good, but ten? I am never, ever going to try and do ten crunches again in my life.

  ‘Lunges, then we’ll do more crunches. You’re doing great, three sessions a week and you’ll soon be ready to kick ass.’ I don’t want to kick ass, I want to sleep. And what the hell does he mean, three times a week? I’d already abandoned the whole ‘five days to fitness’ idea and was thinking of this as a one-off! ‘On your feet, lunges!’

  I don’t think I can get on my feet. He grabs my hand and before I know it, I’m up.

  ‘Lunges?’

  ‘Nice and straight.’ I’m still gripping on to him. He’s only inches away, his other warm hand on my stomach. It’s a bit of a turn-on actually. He gently extracts himself from my grip. I was holding on quite hard, I’m worried I’ll fall over if I’m left to my own devices.

  ‘Hands on hips.’ His finger is under my chin, lifting it gently so that I can’t help but stare into his eyes. ‘Look forward, focus on that tree.’ Tree, what tree? His soft voice is silky smooth, so close to my ear it sends a shiver through me. ‘Now step forward and back, other leg, forward and back.’ No, it’s not. It isn’t a turn-on at all. I wish he’d go away.

  He steps away, and I wish he’d come back closer. This is agony. In more ways than one.