by Shirley Jump
She had a nice rear view, outlined by a pair of faded jeans and a pale pink T-shirt that hugged her curves. Her ponytail swung as she launched into a hearty chorus. The dog in the tub stared up at her, seeming just as enamored with Beth’s voice as Grady was.
Grady cleared his throat, and as soon as he did, he regretted it, because she stopped singing. The dog in the tub barked. Beth started and spun around. “Grady. I... I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s because you were doing your best Bill Withers.” He grinned. “You can really sing.” The Jack Russell, no longer entertained by Beth, began to wriggle and whine. Beside Grady, the Lab puppy began to whine in sympathy.
“Oh, well...” She blushed. He liked that moment of vulnerability. Very much. It gave him this weird kindred-spirit feeling, as if he could confide in her, tell her that he was terrified of screwing up again. Insane. Admitting weakness only created more weakness.
She glanced at the clock. “Um, are you early or am I running late?”
“I’m early. I’m sorry. I—”
The Jack Russell made a break for it, scrambling across the counter beside the sink and toward the edge. Beth spun back, reaching for the dog just as Grady crossed and did the same. The two of them got a handle on the terrier, close enough for their arms to touch. A blaze of heat ran through Grady’s veins, kick-started his heart and damned near bowled him over. His gaze cut to Beth’s and held for a heartbeat, then she broke the eye contact and shifted away.
Holy hell. What was that about?
“Uh, thanks,” Beth said, her gaze on the dog, not on Grady. “I’ve got him now.”
“Yeah.” Grady stepped back. Awkwardness filled the space between them. He hadn’t felt this off-kilter around a girl since...well, since he’d had that crush on her back in high school. “The dog seemed like he was enjoying his bath before.”
“He only likes it when I’m singing.” She blushed again. “Hence the little karaoke show there.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. You sing really well.” He wondered if she’d been involved in chorus in high school. Except for seeing her in class, he couldn’t remember much about Beth from back then—no memories of seeing her involved in sports or arts programs. It was as if all she’d done was go to classes and leave right after. Grady, who’d been on the football team and basketball team, and later Future Leaders of America, had been at school so much he’d practically had his own parking space in senior year.
“My audience is entirely canine, so they don’t notice if I’m off-key or make up a few words I’ve forgotten.” She pivoted back to the dog, turned on the faucet and began to rinse him off. Without the musical accompaniment, the Jack Russell squirmed and protested. “Let me just finish up and then we can start the obedience lesson for you.”
For him? Or his dog? Because Grady got the feeling he’d crossed some invisible line when they’d touched. All of a sudden she was as distant as Idaho. He knew he should go back out to the front of the shop, take a seat in one of the hard plastic chairs by the door and wait for her like any other customer would. But he wanted that feeling of connection back. “Need any help? Or a really bad bass for backup?”
She laughed. “You sing?”
Laughter was good. Laughter meant she hadn’t entirely blocked him. “Badly, but yes.”
She glanced down at the dog. He’d started whining again, and was pawing at the edge of the tub. “What do you think, Rudy? Want to hear another song while we finish your bath?” The dog let out a yip. Beth turned to Grady. “How about a little Eagles? Say...‘Hotel California’?”
“I’m in.” He tugged the puppy’s leash and shifted closer to Beth, near enough to catch the floral notes of her perfume, dancing just above the light fragrance of the dog shampoo. To be this close to her, to hear her laugh again, he’d sing the whole score from Oklahoma! if need be.
When Beth started singing, he joined in, stumbling over the words a few times, but mostly keeping up with her. They had their heads close, their voices winding in and out together, while Beth finished washing the now-compliant terrier. Even Grady’s puppy seemed mesmerized, because the little monster barely made a peep or moved while they sang.
Beth turned off the hose just as they finished the song. As if on cue, the terrier shook off the worst of the water, spraying Grady and her. Beth had a plastic apron over her clothes, sparing her from the impromptu shower, but Grady wasn’t prepared. Within seconds, his shirt was plastered against his chest and his jeans weighed another five pounds.
Beth glanced at him and bit back a laugh. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”
“I’m not melting, so I think I’m good.” He grinned. “It’s just water.”
“Here.” She grabbed two towels from the shelf above her head, handing one to Grady and using the second to dry off the dog. Rudy groaned as Beth rubbed his back and belly, talking softly to him.
Grady stepped back, watching Beth with the dog. She clearly loved animals, and they loved her just as much. He was pretty sure none of the dogs that Beth groomed would dare eat her shoes or pee on her favorite sweatshirt. “You definitely have a way with dogs. Rudy is half in love with you.”
“You just have to know how to speak their language.” She finished with Rudy, then put the short-haired dog in the big pen on the other side of the room. Rudy ran around in fast circles, yipping and chasing his tail, clearly overjoyed to be done with his spa treatment.
Grady had met a lot of women in the course of his lifetime. Smart women, strong women, determined women. But he’d never met one who had this soft, intriguing edge to her, or that hint of shy vulnerability that he’d seen when he complimented her on her voice. Everything about Beth drew him closer and made him wonder why she was single.
She hung her apron on a hook, then turned to him. Grady expected her to say something about their singing or how they’d brushed shoulders a few times, but instead she bent down in front of him. “I hear you’ve been a brat.”
A brat?
Then it hit him. She didn’t mean him, she meant the dog. Oh yeah. The whole reason he was here. He’d forgotten all about the puppy, who’d barely moved since they’d arrived. Maybe there was something to this singing thing.
Beth ruffled the dog’s ears. “Okay, let’s get started, while we wait for Rudy’s mom to get here.” She straightened and turned to Grady. “What’d you name him?”
“Name him? Why would I do that?”
“Because it helps your dog to know when you’re talking to him. You can get his attention, and it also helps deepen the bond between you two.”
Grady scoffed. “I don’t need to bond. I need to get him to stop chewing my shoes and peeing on my clothes.”
She laughed. “Well, first you have to establish that you are the alpha dog. And you have to get him to care about you. Hence bond. So...name?”
He glanced down at the puppy, who looked up at him with cute, wide, melt-your-heart eyes and a happy tail wag. He swore this dog turned on the charm the second they left the house. “Monster?”
Beth laughed again. “He’s not a monster, are you, little guy?”
The softer, more lyrical tones caught the puppy’s attention. He wagged his tail and let out a short woof. The dog was just as captivated with her as Grady was. He couldn’t blame the puppy; Beth had a smile that lit her eyes and brought life to the room.
Damn, he wanted to get to know this woman better. Except he had a lot in front of him right now—resurrecting a dead company, filling an empty bank account and restoring dozens of jobs—and he wasn’t planning on staying in Stone Gap much longer. Was it even sensible to date someone he’d have to soon say goodbye to?
His number-one priority was the puppy from hell. Once he got the dog under control, everything else would fall into place, like it had a thousand times before. This was just a bump in the road, nothing more. “Yo
u don’t live with him like I do,” Grady muttered. “I think Monster fits.”
“Then Monster it is,” Beth said. She held his gaze for a second, mirth still dancing in her blue eyes, and he forgot all his very good reasons for not asking her out again.
Then her expression became all business, which raised a great big stop sign. “Shall we get started?”
Chapter Three
The singing had been a mistake.
She’d gotten altogether too close to Grady while they were at the tub, washing Rudy, and ever since, she had been thinking too much about him. About touching him. About kissing him.
Which was all insane. She needed a man in her busy, crazy life like she needed the proverbial hole in her head.
Except...she technically did need a man right now. Her father hadn’t let the idea of dinner with her “boyfriend” go. He’d brought it up again just this morning before she left for work, and for the first time in a long time, he’d seemed excited and happy, asking her questions, talking about what to have for dinner. Dad was acting involved, connected, and most of all, he was behaving like a typical father for the first time ever. How could she disappoint him?
Yet how could she manufacture a boyfriend in the next three days?
Two years ago, Beth had thought she had her life all aligned. She’d been engaged to the guy she’d been dating for two years, an accountant who lived just outside Stone Gap, and she’d been running a fledgling business that had just started to take off as she built up a steady clientele. She’d recovered from those lonely, difficult years of high school when her mother had died and her father had checked out, and Beth had pretty much been on her own.
Then Dad had had his first heart attack. In those initial weeks, as Beth poured everything into helping her father convalesce, her engagement had fallen apart and her business had begun to lapse. It became abundantly clear that she couldn’t juggle all three. The man she had thought would love her through thick and thin had asked her to choose, and she’d opted for her family over someone who would put her in such an impossible situation. Her dog grooming and training business had suffered and almost died. It took a solid year after she’d missed or been late for so many appointments to rebuild trust with her clientele and convince them that she wouldn’t let them down again. That rebuilding had happened only because she’d dedicated every waking hour to either her father or her clients. Spare time didn’t exist in her world. Ever since, Beth had been alone, except for the occasional blind date arranged by her friends.
Given how her relationship with her father had shifted, Beth knew she would make the same choice all over again. Even though they had never really talked about the past or worked through the pain she still felt over those lost years, she’d found a connection with him that filled in some of the gaps in her heart left behind by her childhood, and as the days he had on earth began to tick down, she knew where her priorities lay. Which meant any kind of real dating relationship had to wait. She was too busy trying to build one with her father.
“Let’s try this again,” Grady said, drawing her attention back to work. He gestured toward the puppy, who was standing beside Beth on the grassy lawn behind her shop. Rudy’s owner had picked up the terrier, and Beth had locked up the store so she and Grady could work with Monster outside. So far, they’d mastered...nothing.
Monster was a typical puppy, sweet and affectionate and a little ADHD. He skittered from thing to thing, his attention never lingering long before he discovered a new smell, a new mystery to investigate.
Beth could hardly judge. Her attention had skipped between Grady and the dog a hundred times in the last few minutes. The scent of his cologne, or the way he flexed his hand, or the deep notes in his voice all frazzled her brain.
“Sit, Monster. Sit.” The puppy yipped in reply to Grady’s directive.
“Be a little sterner,” Beth said. This was her comfort zone, with her focus on an animal, not on a six-foot-two charmer. “Not angry, just firm. So he knows you’re the boss.”
Grady tried it again, deepening his voice, narrowing his gaze at Monster. He made the sweeping hand gesture Beth had taught him, to go along with his verbal command. “Sit.”
And...it took a second, but Monster sat.
Grady gave Beth a wide-eyed look of surprise and broke into a wide grin. “He did it. I’ll be damned.”
The man had one hell of a nice smile. She stood there a second, smiling back like some lovesick high school freshman, before she remembered her job. “Yeah, uh, all puppies learn eventually, with enough patience and work. Now, reward him.” She nodded toward the treat in Grady’s other hand. “Then Monster associates doing the right thing with a positive result.”
“Sort of like kissing a man when he brings you flowers?” Grady arched a brow in her direction.
Beth’s face heated. Had he been reading her mind? And damned if her brain didn’t picture her kissing Grady over a bouquet of daisies at that very second. “Uh, yes. Positive reinforcement works for pretty much all mammals.”
“I will keep that in mind, Beth Cooper.” He bent down and held out a little doggy treat to Monster, who ate it in one bite, then yipped, expecting more.
Grady was a seriously good-looking guy. It wasn’t just the button-down shirt he had tucked into his jeans, or the way his dark hair had one unruly wave in it, or the sharp lines of his jaw. It was the way he connected with the dogs—first Rudy, now Monster. For a guy who said he didn’t want a dog, and claimed not to even like Monster, his clear affection and indulgent attitude toward the wayward puppy were pretty attractive.
Beth’s attention veered to his lips. She could definitely imagine kissing him. And maybe doing a lot more than that. Good Lord. How long had it been since her last date? Way too long, clearly.
She didn’t have time for daydreaming like this. She needed to finish this lesson with Monster, then hightail it across town to Dad’s house. The visiting nurse was supposed to come today, and Beth always tried to get home in time to talk to her and get a status check. Dad always claimed that he was just fine, when she knew he was anything but. If she didn’t stay on top of his doctors’ appointments and meds and tests, he’d forget all about them and end up worse off. Her father still had that tendency to assume others would take care of things—and right now, “others” meant her. So she did her best to be at every single appointment and to keep a careful record of her father’s medical history.
“So, is there any way we can speed this training thing up?” Grady said. “Maybe find him a foster home or something? I have...a lot on my to-do list, including trying to sell my grandmother’s house if I can find a Realtor the dog won’t pee on.”
Before her father got sick, she’d taken dogs home with her and done one-on-one training all the time. That part of her business had been fairly lucrative, but she’d stopped offering it once her father became ill and she began spending every spare hour at his house. She’d stayed the night so many times, worried about her father’s labored breathing, that there was surely an inch-thick layer of dust over everything in her own tiny cottage. If she was going to take on a training project, she’d have to do it at her father’s house, to stay close to him. But the last thing Dad needed was some rambunctious Labrador knocking over his oxygen tank.
“I’ll keep asking about a foster or adoption option,” she said. “I can’t take Monster into the dog training school I used to run at my house, but I could slot you two in for a few more hours this week.” Which would mean a few more opportunities to see Grady. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but she did know she was already feeling bittersweet that their first lesson was coming to an end.
Damn. Why hadn’t she paid closer attention in high school? He’d been a star in the yearbook, involved in pretty much everything in school. She remembered Grady being on the periphery, but Beth had been so involved at home that she’d barely noti
ced anyone in school. Missing out on Grady might have been a mistake.
Looking at him now, and seeing how patient he was with the dog, she felt Grady had Mr. Potential written all over him—assuming she had the hours to explore a potential anything.
“Great. I appreciate you doing that. My budget is a bit tight, though, so...” A flicker of emotions ran across his face. Stress, embarrassment, frustration. “If there’s anything I can do in return as a kind of barter, like sing a few bars of ‘Desperado’ or—”
“Come to dinner at my father’s house on Sunday night.” Had she just said that out loud? But the more she thought about it, the more she could see the sense in the idea. Grady could pretend to be her boyfriend for a few hours to make her father happy, and in exchange, she’d help Grady with his dog. Just a little even trade, nothing more.
Which would mean she’d have to stop thinking about kissing him. And she would...soon.
Having Grady at dinner would take all the pressure off about how to maintain the facade of her fictional boyfriend, and it would give her father some peace of mind. That alone was worth more than whatever Grady could pay her for dog training. It was a good idea, wasn’t it?
“Since you said your budget is tight, I won’t charge you for the training,” she said, “if you’ll just come on Sunday.”
“Come to dinner? And as a way to pay off my training bill?” Grady looked at her askance. “I thought you were too busy to date.”
“I am.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. What kind of thirty-one-year-old woman was too busy to date? Most of her friends were already engaged or married, and some even had kids. Beth couldn’t see that kind of future for herself, no matter how far she tried to look ahead. “But I need a boyfriend.”
