Diamond in the Ruff (Matchmaking Mamas Book 13) (6 page)

He chose to ignore her.

Jonathan barked again, just as loudly as before. Temporarily surrendering, Lily sighed as she closed the door and then made her way into the kitchen.

“Maybe you don’t have an inside voice. I’m beginning to think that you didn’t run off, someone
dropped
you off. Someone who didn’t want to spend the rest of their life living on headache medication.”

Jonathan ran around her in a circle then, suddenly and inexplicably, he apparently opted to become her shadow. He started to follow her every move, staying within a couple of steps from her at all times.

“It’s just going to be a matter of time before you make me fall, isn’t it?” she predicted, putting down both the bag Theresa had prepared for her and the one Alfredo had given her earlier in the day. The chef had sent his assistant out to the pet store to buy some cans of dog food for Jonathan.

She might not have adopted the Labrador yet, but it seemed as if everyone else had, Lily thought as she unpacked the cans and set them on the counter. There were ten cans in all, each one for a different kind of meal.

“Boy, dogs eat better than most people, don’t they?” she marveled. Jonathan was now running back and forth, eagerly anticipating being fed. “Can you smell this through the can?” she asked incredulously. Jonathan just continued pacing.

She took a moment to choose a can for her houseguest, decided that she couldn’t make up her mind and finally made her selection by closing her eyes and plucking a can out of the group. One was as good as another, she reasoned. She had a feeling the puppy would have made short work of cardboard had she decided to serve him that.

The can conveniently had a pop-top. “At least I won’t have to look for the can opener.”

Lily pulled the top off and emptied the contents of the can into a soup bowl. Placing the bowl gingerly before the Labrador, she managed to take a couple of steps back, out of his way. That took a total of three seconds, possibly less.

Jonathan was finished eating in six.

Lily stared at the empty bowl. “Don’t you even
chew?
” she asked in amazement. The puppy followed her when she picked up the bowl to wash it out. As before he seemed to be watching her every move intently. “If you think I’m going to give you any more food, you’re going to be sadly disappointed. Your kitchen is closed for the night, mister. Water is all you’re going to be getting until tomorrow.”

Drying the bowl, she then filled it with cold water and placed it back on the floor where it had stood before. The dog taken care of, she turned to her own dinner. Lily opened up the containers of food that Theresa had sent home with her.

The woman had made her favorite, she realized. Beef stroganoff. One whiff of the aroma had her appetite waking up, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten very much today.

“God bless Theresa,” she murmured.

Putting together a serving, Lily sat down at the table. Jonathan placed himself directly by her feet. The Labrador watched every forkful of food she placed between her lips, seemingly mesmerized.

Lily did her very best to ignore the puppy and the soft brown eyes that were watching her so very closely. She held out against feeding Jonathan for as long as she could—nearly seven minutes—then finally capitulated with a heartfelt sigh.

“Here, finish it,” she declared as she put her plate down on the floor.

She barely had enough time to pull her hand away. Even so, her thumb was almost a casualty. Jonathan’s sharp little teeth just grazed the skin on her thumb as he proceeded to make the last of the stroganoff disappear from her plate.

“You know,” she told the animal, “if we’re going to get along for the duration of the time that you’re here, we’re going to need some boundaries. Boundaries that you’re going to have to abide by or it’s ‘hit the street’ for you, buddy. Am I making myself clear?” she asked the puppy.

Getting up from the table, she deposited the nearly immaculate plate in the sink and made her way to the family room. Her shadow followed. Jonathan’s tongue was hanging out and he had started to drool again. This time he left an erratic, wet trail that led from the kitchen to the family room.

Turning around, Lily saw the newly forged trail. With a sigh, she took her sponge mop out of the closet and quickly went over the drool marks, cleaning them up. Finished, she left the mop leaning against the kitchen wall—confident she would need it again soon—and looked down at the puppy.

Now what?
“Hey, Jonathan, are you up for a hot game of bridge?”

The puppy looked up at her and then began to bark. This time, the sound also rattled her teeth, not just her head.

“Didn’t think so. Maybe I’ll teach you the game someday.” Her words played back to her. “Hey, what am I saying? You’re not going to be here ‘someday.’ By the time ‘someday’ comes, you, my fine furry friend, will be long gone, eating someone else out of house and home and turning their home into a pile of rubble. Am I right?”

In response, Jonathan began to lick her toes.

She sank down on the sofa and began petting Jonathan’s head. “You don’t fight fair, Jonathan.”

The puppy barked at her, as if to tell her that he already knew that.

Lily had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.

Chapter Five

C
hristopher glanced at his watch and frowned. It was five minutes later—four and a half, actually—since he’d last looked at it.

He was standing in the dog park, where he’d been standing for the past fifty minutes. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of the park’s entrance. No one could enter—or leave—without his seeing it. It was another “typical day in paradise” as someone had once referred to the weather here in Bedford, the Southern California city where he’d grown up, but he wasn’t thinking about the weather.

The frown had emerged, albeit slowly, because Lily and her Labrador puppy were now almost an hour late.

She didn’t strike him as someone who would just not show up without at least calling, but then, he wasn’t exactly the world’s greatest judge of character, he reminded himself. Look how wrong he’d turned out to be about Irene.

He laughed shortly as the memory insisted on replaying itself in his mind. He would have bet money—and despite his outgoing nature, he didn’t believe in gambling—that he and Irene were going to be together forever.

Idiot,
he upbraided himself.

They’d met the first week at college. Helping each other acclimate to living away from home, they discovered that they had the same interests, the same goals—or so he’d thought. But while he went on to attend Cornell University to become a veterinarian, Irene’s career path had her turning to the same New York University they’d gone to as undergraduates to get an advanced degree in investment banking.

The latter, he came to learn, was the career of choice in her family. She had her sights set on Wall Street. That was when their very serious first major conflict occurred. She wanted to remain in New York while he had always planned on eventually returning back “home” to set up his practice.

When he discovered that his mother was not only ill, but dying, he felt it was a sign that he really
needed
to return to Bedford. It was then that things between him and Irene began to unravel and he found that he really didn’t know the woman the way he thought he did. Irene had made a halfhearted attempt to be understanding. She even said she was willing to take a short hiatus—she was already working at her father’s firm—to accompany him to Bedford for one last visit to his mother.

The tension between them grew and he wound up going back home to see his mother without her. Irene required “maintenance” and while that didn’t bother him too often, he knew it would interfere with the time he wanted to sped with his mother.

As it was, that time turned out to be shorter than he’d anticipated. One month to the day after he had arrived back in Bedford, his mother lost her fight to stay alive. He was heartsick that she hadn’t told him about her illness sooner, but grateful that at least he’d had those precious few weeks to spend with her.

When he returned to New York and Irene, things went from bad to worse. Their relationship continued to come apart. The night that he saw things clearly for the first time, Irene had told him that she wanted him to seriously consider turning his attention to doing something a little more “prestigious” than dealing with sickly animals.

She went on to say that in her opinion, as well as the opinions of her father and uncles, being a veterinarian didn’t fit in with the upwardly mobile image that she was going for.

Irene had stunned him by handing him a list of “alternative careers” he could look into. “I kept hoping you’d come to this conclusion on your own, but if I have to prod you, I will. After all, what’s a future wife for if not to get her man on the right path where he belongs?”

She’d actually meant that.

He knew then that “forever” had a very limited life expectancy in their particular case. He broke off the engagement as civilly as he could, being honest with Irene and telling her that much as he wanted to be with her, this wasn’t the way he envisioned them spending their lives together: rubbing elbows with people more interested in profit than in doing some good.

Enraged, Irene had thrown her engagement ring at him. He left it where it fell, telling her she could keep it, that he didn’t want it. Two days later, it showed up in his mailbox. He decided that he could always hock the diamond ring if he needed money for a piece of medical equipment.

He left New York for good the day after that.

In an incredibly short spate of time, he had lost his mother and the woman he had thought he loved.

It had taken him a while to get back into the swing of things. A while to stop thinking of himself as one half of a couple and to face life as a single person again. But then, he would remind himself when times were particularly tough emotionally, his mother had done it practically all of his life. His father, a policeman, had been off duty picking up a carton of milk at the local 7-Eleven when a desperate-looking gunman had rushed into the convenience store, waving his weapon around and demanding money. His father, according to the convenience store owner, tried to talk the gunman down.

The latter, jittery and, it turned out, high on drugs, shot him in the chest at point-blank range. The gunman got off three rounds before fleeing. He was caught less than a block away by the responding policemen. But they had arrived too late to save his father.

His mother had been devastated, but because he was only two years old at the time and they had no other family, she forced herself to rally, to give him as good a life as she could.

When he was about to go off to Cornell, he’d felt guilty about leaving her alone. He remembered asking her why she’d never even dated anyone while he was growing up. She’d told him that she’d had one really great love in her life and she felt that it would have been greedy of her to try to get lightning to strike again.

“Your dad,” she’d told him, “was a one-of-a-kind man and I was very lucky to have had him in my life, even for a little while. I don’t want to spoil that by looking for someone to fill his shoes when I already know it can’t be done.”

However, he thought now with a smile, his mother would have told him that just because Irene hadn’t turned out to be “the woman of his dreams,” that didn’t mean that there wasn’t someone he was meant to be with out there, waiting for him to find her.

And then again, maybe not, he concluded with a sigh.

It wasn’t that he was looking for a relationship. It was still too soon to be contemplating something like that. But nonetheless, he did find himself wanting to spend time with Lily.

Christopher looked at his watch again. Five more minutes had gone by.

Okay, he’d been at this long enough, he decided with a vague shrug. For whatever reason, Lily and her overenergetic puppy weren’t coming and the woman hadn’t seen fit to call him and let him know.

The possibility that the Lab’s owner had turned up and claimed “Jonathan” did occur to him, but even in that event, Lily would have called to cancel, wouldn’t she?

Unless, maybe, she’d lost his card.

You can stand here all day and come up with a dozen excuses for her, but the fact is that she’s not here and you are. It’s time to go home, buddy,
he silently ordered himself.

With that, Christopher straightened up away from the lamppost he’d been leaning against and began to head for where he had parked his car, a late-model, light gray four-door Toyota.

That was when he heard it.

A loud, high-pitched whistle literally seemed to
pierce
the air. It was an irritating sound, but he dismissed it—until he heard it again. His curiosity aroused, he looked around to see where the sound was coming from.

Before he could zero in on the source, a puppy was excitedly running circles around him.

The
puppy.

There was a leash flying behind him like a light green streamer. For the moment, the puppy was a free canine.

With a laugh, Christopher stooped down to the puppy’s level, petting him and ruffling the fur on his head. The animal responded like a long-lost friend who had finally made a connection with him against all odds.

“Hi, boy. Where’s your mistress? Did you make a break for it?”

Christopher looked over his shoulder and this time he saw her. Lily. Her chestnut hair flying behind her, she was running toward him. Lily was wearing a striking green T-shirt that was molding itself to her upper torso and faded denim shorts, frayed at the cuff, which only seemed to accentuate her long legs.

Lily was covering a lot of ground, trying to catch up to the dog that had obviously managed to get away from her.

Seeing that Jonathan had found the man they were both coming to meet, Lily slowed down just a tad, allowing herself time to catch her breath so that she could speak without gasping.

“Hi,” Christopher greeted her warmly, the fifty-five-plus minutes he’d been waiting conveniently vanishing into an abyss. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I’m sorry about that,” she apologized. “I’m usually very punctual.” Since Christopher was still crouching next to the puppy, she dropped down to the ground beside him. It seemed easier to talk that way. “Jonathan decided he wanted to give me attitude instead of cooperation.” She wasn’t trying to get sympathy from the vet, she just wanted the man to know what had kept her from being here on time. “I had a terrible time getting him into the car. It was like he was just all paws, spread out in all directions. And then, when I finally got to the park and opened the rear door, he raced out of the car before I could get hold of his leash. I tried to grab it, but Jonathan was just too fast for me.” She shook her head. “He obviously has a mind all his own.”

It was hard to believe that the whirlwind of stubbornness she was describing was the same dog that now appeared to be all obliging sweetness and light. Not only that, but the Labrador had just flipped onto his back, paws resting in the begging position because he wanted to have his belly rubbed.

Christopher obliged. The puppy looked as if he was in heaven. “Was that you I heard, whistling just now?” Christopher asked her incredulously.

He was wording his question politely, she noted. Embarrassed, Lily nodded.

“I know the whistle was kind of loud.” The truth of it was that she didn’t know
how
to whistle quietly. “But I was desperate to get him to at least stop running away even if he wasn’t coming back to me.”

Christopher found it rather amusing that someone as petite and graceful as Lily whistled like a sailor on shore leave gathering his buddies together. But he decided that was an observation best kept to himself, at least for now. He had a feeling that if he mentioned his impression to her, Lily would take it as criticism and it would undoubtedly cause her to feel self-conscious around him. That was the
last
thing he wanted to do. If nothing else, it would get in the way of her being able to adequately relate to the puppy she was so obviously meant to bond with.

So instead, Christopher aimed his attention—as well as his words—at the black furry creature that all but had his head squarely in his lap, still silently begging for attention and to be petted.

This, Christopher decided, was a dog that thrived on positive reinforcement. That should ultimately make it easier for Lily.

“Have you been giving your mistress a hard time, Jonny-boy?” Christopher laughed, continuing to stroke the puppy. “Well, that’s going to stop as of right now, do I make myself clear?” he asked in a pseudostern voice.

Eager-to-please brown eyes stared up at him, and then Jonathan’s pink tongue darted out to quickly lick his hand. The same hand that had just been petting the animal.

Christopher pulled his hand out of the dog’s reach. “No more of that for a while. You’re not fooling anyone. We’re here to work,” he told the dog as he got up off the ground. The next moment, the leash in one hand, he offered his other hand to Lily. “C’mon, it’s time to start both your training lessons.”

Taking his hand, Lily had the momentary sensation of being enveloped and taken care of. The man had strong hands. He also wasn’t as quick to let her hand go as she would have thought. It was just an extra second or so, but it registered.

Feeling herself start to flush, Lily quickly changed the subject. “You made it sound as if you’re going to be training me, as well,” she said with a nervous laugh.

The laugh dissipated in her throat when he looked at her with a wide smile and replied good-naturedly, “That’s because I am.”

Lily was so stunned by his answer that for a couple of minutes, she had no reply to render, snappy or otherwise. And then her brain finally kicked in.

“I’m happy to say that I’m housebroken,” she told Christopher.

She watched, nearly mesmerized, as the corners of his mouth slowly curved. She found herself being drawn into his smile. The line “resistance is futile” flashed through her brain.

“Good to know,” Christopher told her, “but that isn’t exactly what I have in mind for you.”

“Oh?”

She looked at him warily, unaccountably relieved that they were out in the open, in a fairly crowded area. For the life of her, she wouldn’t have been able to explain why the thought of being alone with the man made her fingertips tingle and the rest of her feel nervous. She did her best not to let him see the effect he was having on her.

“And what is it that you have in mind for me?” she asked, brazening it out. It was a loaded question and had they been friends for some length of time, or at least at a stage where they knew one another a little better, the answer that flashed through her brain might have been obvious.

“I intend to train you on how to train Jonny here,” he told Lily. “There’s a right way and a wrong way to do just about everything. With a dog, the wrong way won’t get you the results you want and it could get you in trouble. Remember, it’s important to maintain positive reinforcement. I don’t care if it’s a treat—a small one,” he emphasized, warning, “or you’ll wind up with a severely overweight dog—or lavish praise, as long as it’s positive. Remember, kindness works far better than fear,” he told her as they began to walk to the heart of the park.