Bride In Training. Gail Gaymer Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ web of “two by two.” He wondered if Noah had any idea what he started when he filled that ark.

      Drawing up his shoulders, he headed for the door. The bell jingled as he stepped inside, and in the distance he heard dogs making a ruckus. He glanced at his watch. Dinner time, he guessed. His own stomach gave a rumble.

      No one stood behind the desk. He waited, his impatience growing each second. He tapped his foot, staring at the doorway. Maybe this was a dumb decision. It could be God’s way of telling him to go home. But maybe not. It might just be bad customer service. Or his impatience. If he asked Nick, that’s what his brother would tell him. He had no patience.

      Frustrated, he returned to the entrance and swung the door open and closed. The small bell jingled again. With no response, he walked deeper into the room and aimed his gaze at the door standing ajar. Through the opening, he could see a young woman at the far end of a long aisle, but before he could call to her, she turned and headed his way. Her dark hair brushed against her shoulders, her arms swinging past her trim hips as if she had nothing better to do. But he did.

      Finally she noticed him and picked up her stride. When she came through the door, the woman paused, a look of curiosity on her face. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

      About five minutes came to mind, but Martin didn’t offer one of his biting comments. Instead he wondered why she gave him that questioning look.

      She stepped closer. “What can I do for you?”

      He motioned to the door. “You might change that bell to a siren.” Okay, so he’d let that comment sneak out.

      “Great idea. Now what can I do for you as far as our dogs are concerned.”

      Martin noted the sarcasm in her voice, but with it, the flicker of a grin.

      The grin faded as she studied him. “I think I know you.”

      A frown burrowed onto his face.

      “I don’t really know you, but I’ve seen you.” Her probing gaze raked across his face.

      Martin’s eyebrow tugged upward.

      She gave a knowing nod. “At Steph’s wedding. You’re Martin Davis, right? Nick’s brother.”

      That explained the look. “Yes, the infamous Martin Davis.”

      She didn’t blink. “I’m Emily Ireland.”

      Martin eyed her slender hand reaching toward his. He grasped it, surprised her grip was stronger than he’d expected. He gazed into her eyes. Beautiful eyes, wide-set and the color of dark chocolate. Her straight dark brows lifted at the ends, giving her an impish look that caught him off guard. His mind snapped back, and he mumbled a nice-to-meet-you comment, although he wasn’t really sure if that would prove to be true. For all her innocence, she made him feel on edge.

      Emily released his grip with a new expression more confounding than the last. “Don’t tell me you’re looking for another dog?”

      Ah-ha. She had all the dirt on him from Steph, naturally. “Is that a problem?”

      Her uneasiness deepened. “No. It’s…it’s good.”

      Martin figured she was trying to make up for her earlier comment. He watched her squirm a little and rub her palms together as if trying to decide what to say or do next.

      Martin shoved his hand into his pants pocket unable to understand why looking at her left him confused. Worse than confused. He wanted to give her a hug and suggest they start over, but it would ruin his apparent reputation. “I want a dog, but definitely one quieter and less work than Suzette. I’m sure you’ve heard about those problems.”

      She flashed him an uneasy look. “Yes. You gave her to your brother.”

      Martin’s brows knitted, sensing an undertone from this impish woman. “Suzette was rambunctious.” Her knowing gaze tripped his pulse.

      “Dogs are until they’re trained.”

      Her knowledge of him crept under his skin, and he itched to know more about her. She had the upper hand, and he didn’t like it. Maybe he could grill Nick. But subtly. If not, Nick would be all over him to know why he was asking about a Time for Paws employee.

      Her demeanor softened, and Emily motioned toward the doorway. “I think I know the perfect dog for you.”

      Martin arched his brow, curious why this dog was so perfect. Probably it was old and three-legged.

      Emily didn’t let his look slow her down. She pointed again. “Through that doorway.”

      He headed for the door, giving up on trying to understand the subliminal feelings charging through him.

      Emily moved ahead, her hair brushing against her baggy shirt. Hidden beneath, he sensed, was a woman who was hiding something. Her look was direct, but the flicker behind her intriguing eyes made him wonder. If he asked Steph, she’d be on him like a bloodhound.

      As soon as Emily opened the door, a din of woofs and whines rose to greet them. Martin strode past her, glancing inside the pens as tails wagged and noses pressed against the wire fencing of the upper door while the shorter dogs leaped to see above the Dutch door’s solid bottom. Martin paused and took a good look at the inside of the pen. “The dogs have furniture. That’s odd.”

      Her demeanor changed and took on a businesslike manner that let him know she’d been offended by his comment. “Coming here is traumatic enough for them, so we try to make the dogs as comfortable as possible.”

      “Apparently.” He didn’t let her browbeat him.

      “The dog I have in mind is down here.” She strutted ahead, her attitude decisive.

      Martin followed her down the aisle, gazing into the dog pens. When she reached her destination, a tender look filled her face. She motioned to the little dog jigging beside the door, its tail wagging as it looked up at them. “Here you go.” She swung open the Dutch door and stepped inside.

      Martin joined her, feeling his stomach growl.

      Emily bent and lifted the dog. “What do you think?” She extended the furry ball toward Martin.

      “What is he?”

      “She’s a cairn terrier.” Without waiting for him to accept her invitation, she pressed the dog against his chest.

      He drew back before grasping the squirming fluff ball into his arms but not before her pink tongue swiped his hand. He couldn’t stop the flicker of a smile. The dog wiggled until her chin rested on his chest, and she looked into his face. Martin gazed back, his heart giving a little kick.

      “She’s quiet and well-behaved. I think she’d be perfect for you.”

      What would be perfect for him? What did she know about him but hearsay?

      “Nessie’s been spayed and is up to date on all her shots.” Emily ran her hand along the dog’s fur. “She’s five, by the way. A healthy cairn terrier can live to be fourteen or fifteen.”

      “Nessie?” СКАЧАТЬ