Page 27 of I Hate You More

“And you’ll be telling me that Wheezy is a highly prized experimental breed instead of a golden retriever.” He paused and glanced down at the dog in question. “Actually, that one’s probably true. Except for the highly prized part.”

Somehow, he and Ruby had drawn closer during their conversation. They were still surrounded by the others, their every interaction being watched with interest, but for what was probably the first time, Spencer didn’t feel self-conscious about it. He was too busy trying not to fall under her spell. Ruby was fun and funny and had made everyone’s evening better because of it, but she wasn’t going to win. Not his dog show and not this battle of wills between them.

From the expression on her face, her lips curling in a self-satisfied smile, she didn’t agree. Probably because his hands were balled in fists at his sides. It was the only way he could keep himself from reaching out and kissing her.

And she knew it. Damn the woman. Sheknewit.

“I’ll carry Wheezy to your car,” Caleb offered before Spencer could do something drastic like unclench his fists and give in. “I doubt you’ll get him out of here any other way, and it seems as though I’ve got some errands to run whether I like it or not.”

Spencer was too relieved to hear that his brother was planning on going to his meeting to care that Ruby had once again gotten the better of him. He was also relieved to see that Wheezy put up a fight, rolling around like a dropped pencil in an attempt to prevent himself from being carried away.

That wasn’t a dog who was going to ruin his dog show. He couldn’t participate if no one could even manage to get him in the door.

Eva stood next to Spencer and watched the struggle take place. “Your brother seems to be enjoying himself,” she said as Caleb started listing all the words he could think of that rhymed with mayonnaise: paraphrase, Chevrolets, Bolognese. Only that last one seemed to interest the dog—which, considering how much he loved to eat, made sense. Wheezy was a lot more intelligent than he wanted them all to think. “You have to admit his offer to train with Ruby is working out well.”

Since Wheezy chose that moment to leap into the driver’s seat of Ruby’s ancient, faded Volkswagen,wellwas a generous term. She could hardly drive out of here with that dog in her lap.

“I was starting to worry about Caleb, to be honest,” Eva continued. Spencer could feel her looking at him, but he didn’t turn his head. Eva was emotionally intuitive—and nosy—enough to see exactly what Spencer was thinking. “He never seems to want to leave the house anymore. I even offered to set him up with a friend of mine, but he said he had plans. When has Caleb ever turned down a date?”

Never. Not once. If there was one thing Caleb loved more than gambling, it was women.

“He’s never going to make anything of that animal, but at least he’s taking an interest insomething. And he’s showering again, thank God.”

Spencer was forced into a laugh. It hadn’t been a shower so much as a sink bath that left little to the imagination, but Eva was right. His brother had even started to make an attempt to clean up his side of the living room. There were nowtwoblack garbage bags full of his clothes.

“This Ruby thing seems to be working out pretty well, doesn’t it?” Eva persisted.

Spencer pressed his lips together and watched as Caleb and Ruby worked together to get Wheezy secured in the back of her car. As soon as the door was slammed shut, they high-fived as though they’d known each for years instead of days.

“That depends,” he said, turning to look at Eva. “What exactly is the Ruby thing again?”

Eva’s answer was a light, teasing laugh. “To help a woman train her dog for our show, obviously. Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

Chapter 8

“Be a love and make my bed for me while you’re in there, would you?” Mrs. Orson popped her head into her bedroom and smiled beatifically at Ruby. “My strength isn’t what it used to be, and you do such a good job on the corners. You must have been a soldier in a past life.”

Ruby sighed as she wriggled out from the closet, where she’d been doing her best to lure Wheezy out for his daily walk. Things had come to such a pass that all she had to do was step inside Mrs. Orson’s front door and he ran straight for hiding.

“I wasn’t a soldier. I was one of those mall kiosk people who spray perfume on you without asking. That’s why I’m being punished now.” She gestured to where Wheezy had burrowed himself, his head resting on a pair of Gucci flats that probably cost more than Ruby earned in a month. “Can’t you tie him up or something before I arrive? I’ll never get him out now.”

“Then you might as well make the bed,” Mrs. Orson said brightly. “Since you came all this way.”

Ruby gave in with another sigh. After an eight-hour shift that Harry had eked out to nine, her feet hurt and she wanted nothing more than to head home, but she was determined to make some headway with the golden retriever. Hanging out with Spencer and his friends at the barbecue last week had been more enlightening than she’d expected—and not just because she’d been pretty sure, for a moment there, he was going to kiss her. She’d also noticed that even though Spencer hadn’t done anything to help her train Wheezy, he hadn’t done anything to stop her, either.

“I’ll make your bed, but only if I can tell my mother that you’re an obscenely wealthy widow whose favor I’m courting in hopes of getting in your will,” Ruby said. She pointed a warning finger at Mrs. Orson. “If she calls you—and don’t be surprised if she does—you have to swear to back up my claim.”

Mrs. Orson blinked up at her, not the least bit offended. “Would you like all my money when I’m gone, Ruby? You can have it.”

Ruby’s whole body gave a jerk. “What? No—no, Mrs. Orson. It was a joke. I would never ask you to do that.”

“I’d always intended to leave it to the big hospital that takes care of the kids with cancer, but if you need it more than them, it’s only a quick call to my lawyer.”

“Mrs. Orson,pleasedon’t change your will.” Ruby gave up on both Wheezy and the bed to turn her full attention on the older woman. She looked so tiny and frail, her five-foot frame swathed in a fringed shawl that swept the floor, that Ruby’s heart gave a lurch. “Not for me, and not for anyone. It doesn’t matter how much they say they need it or what they offer you in return. Promise me you won’t make any changes without talking to someone first.”

“There’s no need to yell at me, dear. It’s not as if I can take my savings with me.”

Ruby hadn’t been yelling, but the prospect of Mrs. Orson allowing herself to be taken financial advantage of was enough to get her started. There were too many unscrupulous people in this world—and on the retirement community’s payroll—for her to be comfortable leaving things where they were.