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“I’ma wimp? Oh, that’s rich.” He held his coffee cup under the spout for the dark roast coffee. “I would say, even richer than my watch.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were the one who went scampering off to your friend first thing this morning to see if they’d give us another room. Worried you can’t control yourself for a few nights? I thought you had more willpower than that.”
Oh, he didnotjust say that to her.
“For me to even think about engaging my willpower, a single cell in my entire body would need to be attracted to you, which sadly for you, is not the case,” she retorted.
A lupine grin made his green eyes sparkle with mischievous delight. “Then stay tonight. Don’t pressure the venue to shuffle everyone around. If you don’t have any attraction to me at all, then it shouldn’t be a problem to share a room, now should it?”
Damn him.
Keaton was so adept at laying out his spider’s web that she didn’t even know it was there until she stuck her big fly ass right onto it. She gritted her back teeth. “Don’t you want a bed to yourself for comfort’s sake?”
“I slept fine last night.” He finished filling up his coffee cup and didn’t put any milk or cream in. Masochist. “In fact, I would say I haven’t slept that good in a while.”
It was a bald-faced lie and they both knew it. He’d woken up with just as many bags under his eyes as she had—between them, they could open a luggage chain. But oh no, Keaton had to puff out his chest and make it a competition like he always did. The man couldn’t back down in the face of a challenge. His ego was something else.
Be the bigger person and just admit you slept poorly, and then keep trying to get another room.
But something stopped her from being able to utter the words aloud. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one with a stubborn, competitive streak. She hated that he thought he could always get one over on her, no matter the circumstance, and the last thing she wanted to do wasanythingthat would feed his overinflated ego.
“I slept great, too,” she replied airily. “It’s lucky that talking with you has such a sedative effect on me. I should do it more often.”
His jaw twitched and satisfaction surged through her. Screw Keaton and his teasing. The guy was going to get a taste of his own medicine this weekend, because she was sick of him always getting the upper hand.
“That’s low,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
“Not low enough.” She shot him a saccharine smile, but instead of making him look more irritated, it seemed to have the opposite effect.
“Looks like we’ll keep sharing the room, then.” He held up his coffee cup for them to clink glasses. “That is, unless you change your mind.”
“Not unless you change yours first.” She touched her coffee cup to his. “Game on, Keaton.”
“Game on, August.”
8
Keaton was a man with many regrets, and yet he seemed to be throwing more on the pile with every second that passed. Agreeing to take his sister’s place in this competition? Regret. Not having his assistant double-check that the accommodation was sorted out? Regret. Goading August into staying in the room with him? Regret.
Thinking even for a second that he could tell this damn husky what to do? Major regret.
Molly looked up at him with icy blue eyes as if to say,If you think I’m going to listen to you, then you’re even more of a fool than you look.
“Don’t get frustrated,” August said. “Let’s try again.”
They were standing outside in an area that had been designated for owners to practice with their dogs, while contestants were brought in front of the judges one at a time. The grounds of the summer camp–style retreat were beautiful; even he could admit that. There were fir and spruce trees everywhere, adorable little cabins dotted around, and he could even spy black-and-red-check beanbag chairs placed around a firepit. It was a little too easy to imagine snuggling up with August on one while they roasted marshmallows.
But that was not what he was supposed to be concentrating on right now. They had only a minute to impress the judges with their “speed trick round,” and August was convinced they could get Molly to shine like the star she supposedly was.
Keaton, however, was not convinced.
“Watch me.” August stood in front of Molly, a small treat enclosed in her fist. “Molly, sit.”
The dog sat, its eyes locked on the treat hand.
“Good girl. Now, lie down.” She pointed to the floor and the dog complied. “Roll. Roll the other way. Up. Stay.”
