Page 3 of I Hate You More

Wheezy showed exactly what he thought about that. With a yelp, he flung himself at the real Spencer and did his best imitation of a dog who’d never known the comfort of a human’s touch. To his credit, Spencer immediately squatted down to Wheezy’s level and extended a calming hand. Instead of accepting it, Wheezy began enthusiastically licking the man’s face.

“I don’t understand,” the poodle owner said.

Ruby did. She cast a sideways look at the first brother—Caleb—at which he promptly winked. “Can you blame me?” he asked, laughing. “I’d have lied and pretended to be Prince Harry if it meant I’d get a chance to talk to you.”

“Prince Harry would never do anything so underhanded,” Ruby retorted. “Prince Harry is agentleman.”

By now, the rest of the party had caught up on the lie. The poodle owner looked flustered, Caleb looked amused, and Spencer looked extremely displeased.

Ruby could hardly blame him for it. She was leaning that way herself.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Ruby said, forcing her irritation down. “My name is Ruby Taylor. I’m here to enter this golden retriever in the dog show.” She turned to Spencer. “And you must be therealjudge. Where would you like us to drop off the forms?”

Instead of softening the man, her comment seemed to increase his displeasure. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to enter.” He glanced at the poodle owner with a touch of actual regret. “It sounds harsh, I know, but we have to stick to strict guidelines. In the name of fairness.”

At that, Ruby’s competitive instincts sat up and took notice. It seemed this new Spencer wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as the first.

“If it’sfairnesswe’re talking about, then you should let both these dogs in,” she said. “Your brother already said we could enter. It’s only right that you honor his promise.”

“But Caleb isn’t—” Spencer drew a deep breath and tried again. “Despite what he may have told you, my brother doesn’t have anything to do with the show. Not officially. He’s a dog trainer, not a judge.”

“And yet promises were made. How are this woman and I to know which of you is which? Is it our fault we were misled about your identity?”

“It’s not—” Spencer was cut off as Caleb released a low chuckle.

“I think you should give in,” Caleb said. “I already tried to get the better of her, and it didn’t work.”

A spark of something combative flashed in Spencer’s eyes. All at once, Ruby was struck with how much better that spark suited those long lashes than Caleb’s insouciance. Eyes like that were meant to be taken seriously. Eyes like that were meant to carry fire.

“Fine.” Spencer stood up and took a step back. “Show him to me.”

“Um…” Ruby waved her hand in Wheezy’s general direction. “He’s right there.”

“No, I meanshowhim. Put him through his paces. Let me see what he can do.”

Ruby hesitated as she ran through her list of options. It wasn’t a long one. Wheezy’s skills included very little outside of eating and napping. Putting him in the spotlight—and with that dratted poodle looking on—wasn’t going to end well for any of them.

Except maybe the poodle.

“Wheezy, sit,” she said.

Wheezy didn’t sit.

She went for an easier one. “Wheezy, stay.”

In a move of pure perversity, the golden retriever started wandering down the hallway. A sound halfway between a laugh and a snort escaped Spencer’s mouth. That did more to set Ruby’s hackles up than all the rest combined. No man laugh-snorted at her and got away with it. At least, not unless shewantedhim to.

“Wheezy, you stubborn beast, make us both look like fools,” she said.

This time, Wheezy happily complied. Discovering a half-open garbage can, he got up on his hind legs and started to explore its contents.

“Oh, for the love of Pete.” Ruby took off after the dog. She grabbed hold of his collar and tugged, but it was no use. It took a lot to get Wheezy animated, but once you did, he was a force to be reckoned with. Wheezy had discovered something delicious inside the garbage and had every intention of digging his way through until he found it.

To her surprise, a solid male form came up behind her. She didn’t need to look to know it was Spencer. The ease with which he extracted the golden retriever from the garbage can was clear proof of that.

“You can’t seriously plan to enter this dog in the West Coast Canine Classic,” he said. The hand he laid on Wheezy’s head was gentle even as he squared off against Ruby.

“Oh, I don’t,” Ruby replied, turning to meet him head on.