Page 23 of I Hate You More

“See what I mean?” she said. “You’re exactly like Wheezy. In the book, all the woman has to do is murmur the word and get an immediate response. But whenIsay it, nothing happens.”

On the contrary, there was plenty happening. Spencer felt her presence in ways that reverberated in every part of his body. Their practice didn’t get a lot of calls for the care of porcupines, but he’d never be able to go anywhere near one of them again without feeling this tight coil of desire and frustration. He wanted to throw caution to the wind, to accept the overture she was offering and whisk her into his arms, but he didn’t dare. She was only testing his boundaries, seeing how far she could push him before he cracked.

She didn’t know it, but he had the answer ready to go.This far.This was as far as she could push. The longer she stood there, holding herself just out of reach, the closer he was to breaking.

Fortunately for his state of self-preservation, she decided to end the challenge as quickly as it had begun.

“It’s too bad I can’t hire you to help me train Wheezy instead of your brother,” she said, turning both herself and Wheezy away. “You have all the makings of a great pageant coach.”

Considering how bitterly she’d discussed her own experiences with pageantry, he knew better than to take this as a compliment.

“I don’t train dogs,” he said, his mouth so dry the words felt stuck. “I only judge them.”

“And what do you do with women?” she asked. With a sigh, she shook her head and didn’t wait for his response. “Never mind. I already know the answer to that. You judge them, too.”

Chapter 7

“This would go a lot faster if you grabbed a hammer and helped me set up the stage.” Ruby pointed at the box of tools located a few feet from Caleb’s head. He was sprawled on the grass next to the two dogs—Caesar slumbering sonorously on one side, Wheezy chewing on a tree root on the other. “Many hands make light work.”

“I could, but then I wouldn’t have such a lovely view,” he said. Since his eyes were pretty much trained on her ass as she did all the manual labor associated with erecting a six-foot platform, she had a good idea which view he was referring to.

“I can tell you right now that it’s never going to happen,” she said. “No offense, but you’re not my type.”

He sighed and sat up, a grin splitting his face. “I know, but I had to try anyway. What is it? My hair? My personality? My inability to do anything with this useless lump of a dog?”

She was forced into a laugh. Caleb had just spent the past hour trying to trim Wheezy’s unruly curls into a semblance of order, and the golden retriever had howled as though he was being stabbed with the scissors instead of getting a nice haircut.

“You should have told me that he’s useless before you cashed the check,” she pointed out.

“Probably,” Caleb agreed. “But I needed the work.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that there was plenty of work to be done in setting up the stage, but he turned his attention toward the dog. With the same neat efficiency she’d seen Spencer display toward animals, he ran his hand over Wheezy’s muzzle.

“In this handsome guy’s defense, he has all the makings of a winner. He doesn’t totally conform to the breed, but there’s good width to his skull and he has a nice broad face. Gorgeous eyes.” He tugged one of Wheezy’s ears forward and clicked his tongue in satisfaction. Ruby had done enough research on showing golden retrievers to recognize his actions as those of a judge examining a contestant. For all his apparent laziness, Caleb—like Wheezy—was capable of a lot more. “Other than the excess weight around his middle and a slight bow to his gait, he’s not a bad specimen. And if you fix the first, you may very well fix the second. Whoever earmarked this dog for competition-level shows knew what he was doing.”

She paused in the act of nailing one of the boards down. This was the first time she’d heard anyone other than Mrs. Orson utter a word of praise about Wheezy. “So you’re saying we have a chance?” she asked.

“Nope. Not even a little. Spencer would never allow it.”

The way he spoke—as if Spencer was the judge, jury, and executioner all in one—had her tightening her grip on the hammer to a dangerous degree. Tool safety was one of the few lessons Stepfather Deux had managed to squeeze in before her mother had squeezed him out, but she couldn’t help herself.

Yes, Spencer was attractive. Sure, he lit a fire inside her in more ways than one. And, okay, she wouldn’t have said no if he’d taken her up on that porcupine offer, but that wasn’t her main goal in provoking him the way she had.

Once upon a time, Ruby had been the sort of girl who’d let nothing stand in her way—who’d looked upon each challenge as an opportunity to strap on a tall pair of heels and crush it to oblivion. There was a lot about pageantry she had no desire to return to, but there was no denying that she hadn’t seen that girl in an awfully long time. Now that she was showing signs of returning to life, Ruby realized how much she’d missed her.

And it was something about Spencer that was drawing her out again.

“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” She swung the hammer, pounding the nail through the wood and almost losing a finger in the process. “There’s more than one way to win a trophy.”

Caleb chuckled. “It’ll never work—not even for a woman as beautiful as you. Spencer’s not the type.”

It was a good thing Ruby’s face was turned toward the stage because there was nothing beautiful about it right now. She knew what Caleb was insinuating—that if shereallywanted a shortcut to Wheezy’s success, she could use the assets that God and her mother had given her—but that was beyond insulting. When Wheezy won Best in Show, it would be because Spencer had no other choice but to give in.

And when Spencer finally realized she was more than a pain in his uptight, gorgeous backside, it would be for the exact same reason.

She was about to say as much to Caleb—and with words that would have caused her mother to wash her mouth out with soap—but the sound of a truck pulling around the side of the house prevented her. Glancing up, she found that Spencer had barely managed to park before the passenger door swung open and his friend Eva bounded out. The topaz-skinned brunette was already halfway across the yard by the time Ruby had put the hammer down.

“I don’t know why you’re here or why Caleb has you swinging a hammer, but I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.” As was the case at the meet and greet, Eva wrapped her arms around Ruby and squeezed. Ruby wasn’t normally the sort to hug virtual strangers, but she was starting to see the appeal. She’d met this woman all of twice, and she was already well on her way to adoring her. Anyone who ran roughshod over Spencer the way she had was worth getting to know. “What are you building, and why does Wheezy look as though someone took a pair of garden shears to his coat?”