Page 11 of Puppy Christmas

“I don’t doubt it,” Ford agreed. He held out a hand to help hoist Lila to her feet. He liked the way her palm felt, smooth and strong against his. “But as much as you might know dogs, I know kids—orthiskid, anyway. She knows what she wants. Once she makes a decision, it’s made, and woe to the man, woman, or child who gets in her way. It’s a bit of a family failing, to be honest.”

He had yet to release Lila’s hand. Before he could second-guess himself, he tugged, drawing her closer. He didn’t embrace her or touch any part of her except the hand she’d offered, but it didn’t matter. The space between them was its own physical entity—a hot, pulsating thing he could almost reach out and touch. The enticing jut of her chest stopped mere inches away from his own, her chin tilted so that their eyes were level.

“We know a good thing when we see it,” he added, his voice low.

Lila’s lower lip fell, her soft pink mouth open just enough for an enterprising man to take advantage. Unfortunately, Ford’s enterprising days were long behind him. All he had now were awkward, semi-inappropriate jokes to prop himself up.

“Jeeves peeves. Hinklebottom pinklebottom.” Emily started laughing and dancing around the kennel, winding herself through their legs like a snake. “Daddy, did you hear me? I said ‘pinklebottom.’”

“Yes, moppet. I heard.” He heaved a sigh and released Lila’s hand. The moment was lost—and with it, all chance he had of being the least bit suave. Once upon a time, he’d had suavity. Heaps of it, in fact. But it had long since been buried under stale Cheerios and lost sippy cup lids. “There’s a whole alphabet for you to torture this poor animal with. What a treat for us all. Well, Lila? Is there something I’m supposed to sign? I can tell you right now the only way you’re parting that child from that puppy is with a crowbar.”

“What? Um. Yes.” She blinked at him, still openmouthed, still enticing as all hell. Not that it mattered. She managed to wrangle herself back into the schoolmarm zone within seconds. “There are a few things to fill out and go over before you take him home. I’ll grab your schedule and your first day instructions so we can get started. You and Emily can stay here with Cooper—I mean, um, Jeeves.”

“Von Hinklebottom,” Ford supplied.

“I’m not saying that part.”

“The Third.”

“Or that.”

“Uh-oh.” He tsked, unable to help himself. Granted, it would have been so much better to be the suave man in a tuxedo, to take the princess into his arms and plant a masterful kiss on her lips, but he could only work with what he was given. “Sounds like someone is turning into a fun sponge.”

She stiffened as if she hadn’t been arguingforthat not ten minutes ago. “I beg your pardon.”

“The void of happiness.”

“I’m no such thing.”

“The black hole of delight.” He waited only until she opened her mouth to retaliate before bestowing a liberal wink. “Don’t worry. Holes of delight happen to be one of my specialties.”

With a gasp and a blush, Lila turned on her heel and stalked out. He watched her go with a combination of admiration and regret. Admiration, because there was no doubt in his mind that Lila Vasquez was a woman worth getting to know. Regret, because knowing women—in the literal sense, in the Biblical sense, in any sense that mattered—was something he’d done without since the day his ex-wife had left, determined thatoneof them, at least, should make something of their life.

She’d done it, too, her professional accolades gathering by the dozen. It made his own accomplishments look paltry by comparison. Ford Ford might be able to make the young, unmarried ladies laugh, but that was only because he wasn’t in a place to offer them anything else.

And that, unfortunately, was hisrealspecialty these days.