by Zoe Dawson
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The fact that she had been right about what type of woman Owen went for didn’t make her feel any better. Wow, those gypsy eyes, and that perfect face, not to mention her dark, curly, just-out-of-bed hair and hot, slamming bod. Callie realized she didn’t stand a chance against exotic-looking Celeste.
Wrong, wrong, wrong! She shouldn’t be thinking about Owen at all. She stalked into the kitchen, feeling downright infuriated as she prepared Jack’s dinner. He hadn’t followed her in, so she suspected he was pouting. Well, let him pout. That female dog was freakin’ out of control. The way she jumped over the couch like a gazelle was truly something to behold. But no dog owner should put up with that kind of behavior.
Unless. Callie wondered if she was a natural for agility training. Owen looked pretty athletic, with all his tight muscles. He actually might enjoy bonding with Jill that way. She’d broach the subject and see what he thought.
“Are you hiding from me, mister?” Jack made another grunting noise and Callie couldn’t help but smile. She was glad he couldn’t see her. “You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do, young man.”
She pursed her lips and made rapid kissing noises as she set his bowl down. Jack came to the kitchen door and gave her a sheepish look. “Dinner,” she said and pointed to the bowl. He walked over and sniffed it, and then looked at her with his expressive brown eyes and his adorable droopy lips.
“Nope, no Jill. You’ve done enough for now. Eat.”
Jack let out a big sigh and settled down to his dinner.
Callie made her own dinner and sat at the table to enjoy her beautiful view of the city. She let her thoughts wander to when Jill had knocked her over and Owen had helped her up. She had felt his energy, and his heat. God help her, she was so attracted to that man. He had been visibly shaken by Jill’s pregnancy, and it was clear that he only tolerated the dog because his beloved great aunt left her to him. The fact that he actually seemed to be interested in training and interacting with her melted Callie’s heart. He was trying to be a good dog owner. Speaking of his great aunt, the fact that the old woman thought he was lonely piqued her interest. For heaven’s sake, the man had a different woman every week. Why would anyone think he was lonely? She wanted to ask him that question. Maybe she would, caution be damned.
But it had been quite clear that he was indeed the bad boy described in the Scoop. She crunched on the croutons in her salad and let out as big a sigh as her poor, lovesick dog.
