Puppy Love (14 page)

“Oh!” Adam smiled. “Sure, that sounds fine. I have a training class that ends at three—I could swing by your place afterward. How's that?”

“Perfect!” I blurted out. “I mean, that sounds good.” I quickly told him where I lived. Muckle squeaked and wiggled harder, and I realized I was squeezing him too tightly. Releasing my grip, I forced myself to smile at Adam like a normal person. “See you tomorrow.”

Chapter
Thirteen

B
y lunchtime on Sunday, I
was a nervous wreck. As I sat in the kitchen trying to choke down some food, the back door swung open. I jumped, my heart fluttering with panic. But I relaxed when Robert walked in.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I told him as Muckle started jumping around in his usual greeting ritual. “I thought you were one of my parents!”

Ignoring the puppy, Robert helped himself to one of my carrot sticks and sat down across from me. “Where are they? I thought you said they wouldn't be home today.” He popped the carrot into his mouth. “It's going to be kind of embarrassing if they're hanging around, watching you make out with Adam.”

“Shut up. There's not going to be any making out. Probably.”
I blushed. “Anyway, Mom's at some charity luncheon that will probably last until dinnertime, and Dad's playing golf.”

“Good. This is so exciting!” Robert clasped his hands in front of him like someone's old granny. “My little girl, getting ready for her first date!”

“Not really,” I argued. “I went to the seventh-grade dance with Ben Reeves. He even got me a corsage.”

“Doesn't count.” Robert leaned his elbows on the table and surveyed my T-shirt, stretched-out old sweatpants, and flip-flops. “You're not planning to wear that, are you?”

“Of course not.” I got up and dumped my plate and glass in the sink. “I was waiting for my fashion consultant to arrive.”

He grinned. “At your service. Now, are we going for a sexy-sultry look, or more of a sweet innocent girly-girl look?”

“Neither.” I shook my head. “This is supposed to be a dog training session, remember? I need to look normal and be able to walk and stuff. No tight skirts. No platform heels.”

Robert frowned, then shrugged. “Fine. I can work with sporty and comfortable. Come on, let's go get started.”

Soon we were digging through my closet. Thanks to Robert's frequent shopping sprees, it was overstuffed with options—most of them totally inappropriate for this particular occasion. Robert briefly tried to talk me into a way-too-short-and-slinky sweater dress before giving up and picking out my cutest jeans and a greenish-blue top that brought out the color of my eyes.

“You look gorgeous,” he declared as I studied myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my door. “Casual yet chic. Adam will love it.”

“Thanks.” I glanced at Muckle, who had knocked over my wastebasket and was chasing all the bits of paper and used Kleenex under my bed. “I should probably take the Muckster for a walk before Adam gets here.” I shivered as I said it. Adam was coming here! To my house, to see me! Well, technically he was coming to see Muckle. But also me.

“No time for dog walking,” Robert said sternly. “We still have to do your hair and makeup.”

I hesitated, looking at Muckle and then at my own reflection. I'd taken the puppy out for a quick piddle before I ate, but we hadn't gone on a real walk yet that day, let alone worked on our training.

Still, wasn't that what Adam was coming to help me with? Maybe it would be better if Muckle was a little hyper. That might make this whole situation seem more legit. You know, just in case Adam hadn't caught on to the subtext yet.

“Fine. But let's not go crazy with the makeup, okay?” I told Robert. “No glitter shadow. No hot-pink lipstick. Actually, make that no lipstick at all—gloss only.” I too could sound stern.

Robert looked disappointed, but he nodded. “Soft and subtle and fresh. Got it.”

He went to work. When I was looking as fresh and pulled together as possible, Robert turned his attention to Muckle.

“The mutt is looking a little shabby next to his gorgeous
owner,” he said. “Shouldn't you, like, brush him or something?”

“Good idea.” I collected a couple of Muck's grooming tools and tossed one to Robert. “You take the back half, I'll do the front.”

Robert caught the brush and stared at it. “You want me to brush him?”

I grabbed Muckle and sat him on the bed, plopping down cross-legged next to him. “You're good with people hair,” I said as I started combing out Muckle's thick ruff. “Puppy fur isn't that much different.”

Robert hesitated, then shrugged and sat down on Muckle's other side. Soon we were both working on the puppy's silky coat. Muckle wiggled around and tried to bite my comb a couple of times, but mostly he seemed to enjoy the grooming session. I was surprised to notice that after his initial reaction, Robert actually seemed to be enjoying it too. Come to think of it, this was probably the first time I'd ever caught him having a good time while interacting with my puppy. If Muckle could win him over, maybe there was hope for my family yet!

When Muckle was looking coiffed and gorgeous, Robert checked his vintage robot-print Swatch. “Okay, you're both looking snazzy, and Adam should be here in, like, fifteen minutes. I'd better jet.”

“Do you have to?” I'd gotten so caught up in our primping that I'd almost forgotten why we were doing it. Suddenly all my nerves were back.

He was already heading for the door. “Call me the second
the date is over,” he called back over his shoulder. “I want all the juicy deets!”

“Promise.” I followed him downstairs. Muckle came too, his newly smooth and shiny fur swishing around his legs.

Once Robert was gone, I paced around the empty house, getting more nervous by the second. “What do you think, Muck?” I asked the puppy, who was bouncing along beside me. “Are we ready for this?”

He let out an excited bark. As usual, he was ready for anything. Me? I wasn't so sure. But there was no turning back now.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then another five. Adam was late.

What if he didn't show? I hadn't really considered the possibility until that moment. I went and stared out the front window. Nothing.

Noticing that Muckle had disappeared, I hurried to find him. He was in the living room chewing on a gold-tasseled throw pillow. Oops.

“No! Bad puppy.” I pulled the pillow away from him and examined it. There were a few tiny teeth marks along the edge, but nothing too—

BZZZ!

The doorbell startled me, making me jump and drop the pillow. Muckle pounced on it, growling playfully.

“Stop that.” I grabbed him, kicking the pillow under the sofa to deal with later. Then I hurried to the front door.

When I swung it open, Adam was standing there. He smiled at me and Muckle. A battered backpack was slung over
one shoulder, making him look like a superhot hobo.

“Hi. Sorry I'm late,” he said. “One of the dogs in my last class had a meltdown at the weave poles, and we had to work through it and end on a good note.”

“Oh. No biggie. We were just hanging out.” I set Muckle down.

The puppy barked and leaped up on Adam's legs. A second later he backed away, squatted down—and peed on the polished parquet floor!

“Muckle! No!” I cried, face flaming. I grabbed the puppy and rushed him outside, but it was too late. There was a yellow puddle right inside the door. Good thing the rug that went there was already out being dry-cleaned. Which was also thanks to Muckle, come to think of it.

“No worries, Lauren.” Adam didn't seem fazed at all. “A lot of dogs urinate when they get excited, especially when they're young. Yelling at them won't solve the problem—it can actually make it worse. But don't worry, it usually goes away as the pup gets older and more confirmed in his housebreaking.”

From there, he launched into a whole spiel about various housebreaking methods and what I should be doing to help Muckle learn that the house was not a toilet. I listened while I cleaned up the puddle.

Okay, so far this wasn't exactly how I'd pictured this day going. But never mind. I had asked for help with housebreaking, after all. And it was pretty obvious that Muckle needed all the help he could get.

Once the floor was clean, Adam suggested taking Muckle out into the backyard. “Okay,” I said. “But I should warn you, the yard isn't fenced or anything. It's against the rules of the homeowners' association.”

Adam frowned, but then nodded. “No problem,” he said. “We'll make do.”

We went out there, and Adam pulled a superlong leash out of his backpack and switched it out with Muckle's regular leash. He started talking about using a long leash to teach Muckle to come, and also went into more housebreaking stuff. I was trying to listen and look cute at the same time, which wasn't easy, since Adam was following Muckle around the yard, letting him run as much as he wanted. Within minutes I was out of breath.

Then Adam switched the leash back to Muck's regular one and handed it to me, and we went through some of our usual exercises. Once or twice he grabbed me by the arm to correct my grip or something, which sent that electric spark through me just like the first time we'd touched. Was he feeling it too?

“Good,” he said as Muckle and I performed a nearly perfect heel and turn after several not-so-great attempts.

“Thanks.” I glanced at him. His blue eyes were so intense they almost burned. My mouth went dry as our eyes locked for a moment. Then Muckle barked at a bird flying past, and Adam glanced at him.

“Okay,” he said. “Let's move on. . . .”

Finally, as we were working on some more leash exercises,
Muckle stopped and lifted his leg on Dad's favorite rosebush. As soon as he'd finished his business, Adam hurried over with a liver snap he'd pulled out of his pocket.

“Good boy!” he cried. “What a good pup!”

Muckle went crazy with joy, gobbling up the treat and then leaping around like a loon. I smiled as I watched Adam jump around with him. The guy really did have the magic touch with dogs.

He caught me watching and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair. “My mum says I'm at least half dog myself sometimes, or so it seems.”

“That's okay. It's cool, actually. I wish I had that kind of rapport with dogs. I feel like I'm way behind since I never got to have one before.”

He reached over and touched me on the arm, sending off another little firework display on my skin. “Don't fret, you're doing just fine,” he said. “In fact, I'd say you're one of my best puppy K students right now.”

“Well, you're definitely my favorite puppy K teacher,” I countered daringly, channeling one of the sassy heroines from Robert's romance films.

He chuckled. “Thanks. Should we head in? I think we finally wore Muckle out. He could probably use a drink and a rest. He won't learn much when he's too tired to focus.”

I glanced at the puppy. He'd stopped jumping around as soon as Adam had. Now he was flopped on the ground at my feet, watching Adam.

“Yeah, come on in,” I said.

We went back inside. Muckle perked up as soon as he slurped up some water from his bowl, so we went out to the living room, and Adam showed me and Muckle more training stuff. When Muckle spotted the throw pillow under the sofa, we even learned a “drop it” command. Okay, so Muckle only dropped it about 50 percent of the time. Still, that was 50 percent more often than before.

Finally, when the puppy started yawning, Adam checked his watch. “That may be all his brain can handle for one day,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah.” I felt a moment of panic. He couldn't leave yet! Not when I was just starting to feel like we were really connecting! “Uh, do you want something to drink? There's soda, or juice. . . .”

He glanced at his watch again. “Sure, thanks, that'd be great.”

I was very aware of him following me into the kitchen. Waving him toward a chair, I bustled around pouring us each some soda. Adam watched me, ruffling Muckle's ears as the puppy rubbed against his legs.

“You've got a sweet pup here, Lauren,” Adam said as I set his glass in front of him. “He's got a super temperament and tons of potential.”

That was pretty much what he'd said at the dog park, but I didn't mind the repetition. “Thanks,” I said, sitting down across from him. “I wish I could convince my parents of that.”

“What do you mean?” He kept rubbing Muckle's ears while the puppy panted with joy.

I sipped my soda. “Let's just say they weren't crazy about the idea of getting a dog.”

With that, I found myself telling him the whole story. Adam listened quietly, actually looking interested.

“Wow,” he said when I'd finished. “I don't know how I'd survive without a dog or two around. But now I'm extra glad you found my class. If you keep working at it, Muckle will turn into a dog even your parents can love. Even if it means more private lessons or whatever.”