What was it about him? She liked his eyes. They were rich brown like the saddles she’d seen in Western movies. Brown with flecks of gold, and though she knew eyes reflected attitude, Martin’s hadn’t. Walking behind him along the dog pens, she had admired his frame, six feet, she guessed, and lean with broad shoulders that added to his good looks. But Martin had the tendency of lowering his eyes, and that look gave him away. He might have a sharp tongue, but inside, she suspected he was as insecure and vulnerable as she was. She’d spent her life hiding her past, but Martin confounded her. He had so much going for him. What did he have to hide?
Tonight Martin had shown a softer side despite a few barbed comments. When he held Nessie, he’d melted like a cheap candle. And she’d caught him in a brief smile. His chin had dimpled below his even white teeth. She liked that, but it had made her selfconscious and she’d dragged her tongue over her teeth, fearing the sandwich she’d grabbed for dinner had left a telltale residue. She’d never liked her teeth. One was a little crooked so she tried to cover it when she smiled.
She glanced through the window again, her curiosity growing. Martin’s car was still there, and she wondered if she should go out to see if he needed help. Instead, she gripped the desk and talked herself out of it. If she softened too much, she could be in trouble. He was single, she knew, and the kind of man that could make her life wonderful. She’d watched Molly and Steph marry, and though she had always figured marriage wasn’t for her, her singleness seemed empty and lonely.
Wanting to get that nonsense out of her head, she focused on the check. He’d paid for Nessie’s shots and added a generous donation for the dog shelter. Somewhere inside Martin Davis beat a kind heart. Someone just needed to find it. But definitely not her.
Emily edged forward and blocked the headlights’ glare on the glass to see outside. Martin sat inside the car with Nessie sitting on his lap. The sight made her laugh. As she did, she turned away from the window before he spotted her.
The door to the pens remained ajar, but the noise inside had quieted. She strode to the door and slipped it closed before the dogs got riled again. The bell tinkled behind her, and she spun around. Martin stood inside with his hand on the doorknob. She caught her breath. If he smiled now with those white teeth and that dimple, she couldn’t cope.
Maintaining a semblance of control, Emily moved closer. “Is something wrong?”
As the last word left her mouth, a horn blasted outside.
Martin spun around and peered through the window. “You didn’t tell me the whole story about that dog.”
“Whole story?” She hoped her voice sounded steady.
“For one, she prefers the driver’s seat or my lap.”
“She’s lonely.”
Something flickered on his face, then faded. “I guessed that.” He ran his hand over his jaw.
The horn blew again.
He waved his hand toward the window. “Any idea how to stop her from pawing at the horn?”
Emily chuckled. “Did you tell her to sit?”
Martin raised his shoulders, then lowered them. “About fifteen times.” He opened the door and beckoned to her. “Look.”
Feeling sorry for him just a wee bit, Emily strode to his side and looked at the car. Nessie stood on the steering wheel, gazing at him through the front windshield. When Martin didn’t respond, the dog jumped from the steering wheel to the passenger window, her sharp barks penetrating the glass. Martin spun around and faced Emily. “I’ve been out there for five minutes, frustrated.”
“It’s the newness. She’ll adjust. It takes time.”
“Time? I just need a few tips on handling her.”
“Nessie’s had basic obedience training.”
“Here’s the situation. I don’t have a clue how to…”
Emily pressed her lips together not to laugh. Mr. Tough Guy had been weakened by a little fluffy dog. “Let me give you a brochure. We have dog obedience classes here a couple nights a week.” She stepped to the desk, pulled out a pamphlet and handed it to him.
He grasped it without interest. “I thought the dog had basic training.”
“But you haven’t. The classes are for you.”
“For me?” He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s too quiet out there.” He held up one finger and jerked open the door and headed outside.
In a moment, he was back, a look of relief on his face. “I peaked through the window. She’s curled up on the backseat. I think she’s asleep.”
“I told you.”
“This time.” He eyed the brochure for a moment. “Okay, I suppose I need to understand the basics. Do you teach these classes?”
“Molly handles that, and sometimes Steph helps. I mainly run the office and take care of the dogs when I’m needed, and I own a dog-sitting and walking business.” She hadn’t meant to tell him that, but it was too late now. The problems Nick had experienced with his brother skittered across her mind. Martin leaned on everyone but himself. He needed to learn to take care of his own animals. Too late. His face had brightened, and Emily knew she was in trouble.
He rested his hand on the desk. “I—I might like to use your dog-walking service if you could fit me in. Some days I work long hours, and I hate to leave an animal alone for that long.”
Emily gazed at his hand, noticing his long fingers with neatly trimmed fingernails. “I’m filled up right now.” That was the best she could come up with quickly, and there was truth to her response, though she always tried to squeeze in every new costumer…except this time.
The brightness dimmed on Martin’s face. “I’d still like your card if you have one. You never know.”
She knew. She could handle dogs, but she couldn’t handle Martin Davis. Even his hands intrigued her.
She dug in her pocket, pulled out a business card and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He eyed the card, then tapped the edge of it against his thumb. “Will you call me if you get an opening?”
Emily swallowed and forced herself to be firm. “I doubt that will happen. My customers stay with me a long time. They rarely drop the service.” When she looked at his expression, she wished she’d been more gentle. But she had to stay in control.
Martin slipped the card into his pocket.
“You can call Molly about the training.” She tilted her head toward his pocket. “The shelter’s number is on there too.”
He didn’t look back. He grasped the knob and marched outside. Apparently Martin wasn’t a man to accept the word No.
Martin bounded toward his car, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. I doubt it. Short but not sweet. Direct. No ifs, ands or buts. Though he’d always been able to manipulate people to do what he asked, he’d failed with dogs and obviously women. He’d never go to Molly or Steph for training. He’d feel uneasy. Feel stupid was more like it. He excelled in things. Martin Davis didn’t fail. But he had. He’d thought he could intimidate Emily a little, but apparently he’d been wrong about that, too.
He stood outside a moment drinking in the fresh air as Emily’s image filled his mind. When he’d first seen her, he’d taken a full sweep of her slender frame. She was tall like a reed. Thin and straight. She