Page 2 of I Hate You More

Every part of Ruby recoiled. Like most women who’d grown up on the stage, she was well aware of the image she presented to the world. Her hair was a tangle of golden-blond curls that she tamed into submission every morning, her eyes a rich brown that she made the most of with carefully winged eyeliner. Add her mother’s fantastic bone structure and years of good skin care into the bargain, and Ruby had all the traditional Eurocentric beauty standards checked.

None of that made interactions like these more palatable. Getting chatted up by strangers was nothing new, but she didn’t take well to such heavy-handed tactics. It was nice when a man at least pretended to be attracted to her personality first.

Before she could tell Spencer what she thought of his methods, the poodle’s owner appeared in the doorway, breathless but holding the requisite forms. As Ruby knew from the stack in her own bag, there werea lotof them. You could buy a house with less.

“Thank goodness,” the woman said. “I hope I’m not too late. Muffin would be devastated to miss the deadline.”

Muffin looked as though she’d never suffered a disappointment in her life, much less a devastation, but the poodle sniffed happily as her owner drew near.

“Muffin?” Spencer asked with a laugh. “Did you name him that because he ate too many of them?”

Ruby stiffened. While there was no denying the golden retriever was somewhat…portly, she didn’t appreciate jokes being made at Wheezy’s expense. It was hardly his fault that he was carrying a few extra pounds around the middle. Life as the pampered darling of a dozen elderly ladies would do that to a dog.

“Oh dear.” The woman took the leash from Ruby’s hand and cast an anxious eye over her poodle. “Do you think she’s put on too much weight? We switched to organic chicken breast recently, but I didn’t think—”

“Wait.” Spencer reared back with a start. He glanced back and forth between the two women and then the two dogs, confusion lowering his brow. “This poodle belongs toyou?”

“We’ve been looking forward to this all year, haven’t we, Muffin?” the woman cooed. She swelled with maternal pride. “Muffin comes from a long line of show dogs. Her mother took Best of Breed at the National Dog Show three years ago.”

“Come, Wheezy,” Ruby said, hoping to put Spencer in his place. It didn’t work. Wheezy showed as little interest in her as he did the air around him. He heaved a sigh and dropped to his belly instead.

“We’re still working on that one,” she explained. They were still working onallof them, but she wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

The poodle owner spoke up. “We’re not too late to enter, are we? We were both here in plenty of time, I promise. It was only that I left the silly papers in the car, and this woman very nicely offered to wait for me before heading in.”

“Weren’t you just saying you’d be willing to change the time stamp for me?” Ruby asked, sensing an opportunity. “It’s only fair that you’d offer the same to my friend and her poodle.”

Hope lit Spencer’s eyes. “Does that mean you’ll go out with me?”

“Of course not. But I’m sure the AKC would love to hear about how you use dog-show extortion to trap women into dating you.”

For the longest moment, Ruby was afraid she’d pushed too far. It was obvious that this Spencer guy was used to getting his way—and even more obvious that he felt no remorse at breaking the rules to do it—but she’d stopped using her physical charms to win pageant judges’ approval years ago.

Ten years ago, in fact. And she wasn’t about to change that now.

With a good-natured laugh, Spencer threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. You win. I can’t resist a gorgeous woman making threats. Welcome, both of you, to the West Coast Canine Classic.”

The poodle owner let out a long, relieved sigh, but Ruby wasn’t buying it. “Don’t you need to look over our applications first?”

“Caleb!” A sharp male voice interrupted before the man could answer. “What are you doing here?”

Ruby turned to find herself facing another version of Spencer. Aliteralversion of Spencer that made her swivel her head in a double take. Instead of facing one finely sculpted paragon of masculinity with eyelashes painted by the hands of a master, she was facing two of them. The newcomer was built just as powerfully as the first, but he was dressed more formally in a button-down shirt and well-pressed slacks. He wore his dark hair neater and cropped closer to the head, and his movements were more rigidly controlled, but they were otherwise as identical as, well, twins.

“Spencer!” Spencer said—only…wait. That couldn’t be right. “Just the man to help us out of this fix.”

The newcomer strode forward, his mouth set in a firm line. “Caleb, I don’t know what you’re doing or how you got here, but you need to get home.” He glanced at a clock on the wall and added, “Now.”

“Don’t worry,” the man said. “I have a half hour until the next bus comes, so I thought I’d pop in and see how things are going.”

By this time, the poodle owner looked as perplexed as Ruby felt. “I’m sorry…” She glanced back and forth between the two men. “Which one of you should I turn the application in to? Muffin and I are anxious to get everything squared away.”

Muffin didn’t look the least bit anxious, but Wheezy was starting to show serious signs ofsomething. He strained and pulled in an attempt to get closer to the newcomer, a low whine escaping his lips. In all the time Ruby had known this dog, she’d only ever seen him this animated about pork products.

“To neither of us, I’m afraid,” the newcomer said. He stabbed a finger at the wall. “The entry cutoff was at ten. You missed it.”

At this, Wheezy let out a bark of protest. Ruby wasn’t slow to follow. “But this man—Spencer, Caleb, whatever—said we could still enter.”

“I’mSpencer,” the newcomer said. “And I’m in charge of the dog show. I don’t know what my brother told you, but rules are rules.”