Page 22 of Sexy Bad Valentine

CHAPTER SEVEN

Evie

“Aren’t you the cutest thing?” I scratch the Pomeranian’s fuzzy orange head before taking him out of Max’s arms.

“Thanks.” He grins widely.

“Not you,” I whisper. I was prepared for this moment where I’d be face to face with Max again. Or more like face to groin, I realize as I start to stand back up from putting the pup on the ground. Damn if remembering him naked doesn’t shake me up a bit. I spent all night practicing how I would be so cool when I saw him, and how I wouldn’t let him affect my pulse or my temperature one degree. “I was talking about King here.”

“Sure. But I think he and I would both agree, in the cute stakes there’s only one winner.”

“Can you please not do that?” Thankfully my cheeks are radiating warmth from the bitter wind because otherwise the crew could probably tell this is embarrassing.

“You’re right,” he says. “We need to tape. I’m counting down the days until we’re finished here.”

He is? One quickie and he’s over it? Wait. Where’s my feeling of relief? The moment of giddy joy at not having to worry about him ruining this for me? Or... trying to get close with me. It’s kind of a letdown, actually. Can’t say I’m surprised though. Guys like him are all talk and no substance. What else did I expect him to do? “Then we should probably get on with it.”

“Agreed.” He holds out a piece of paper, and I try to take it without touching him. It’s an epic fail. My skin sizzles as his fingers linger on my wrist, and is that my heartbeat in my panties?

Then he’s drawing away, and I’m opening doggy date two’s note. “King and I like to chill and give back to the community. So today King wants to take you to a special to us place where we spend a lot of time. You’ll find King has quite the voice and sings along at the Montgomery Retirement Community.”

A short while later I’m situated behind a piano, stroking the ivory keys and trying to remember if I can recall the finger placements for Hot Cross Buns or Chopsticks. “If I’d known dating dogs was going to take so much more effort than dealing with human beings I might have thought twice.”

“Don’t know how to play?” Kelly asks, making notes on her tablet. Max is nowhere near me, but I can still feel his gaze on my skin. Everyone else stands around talking, and the dog. King. Well, he was snatched up by an old woman in a pink quilted dressing gown who has rollers in her hair and no teeth. Currently they’re sitting in a rocking chair across the room.

“It’s been a long time. No one told me I would need to know how.”

“You don’t really.” She looks up at me, placing the tablet on the piano’s top. “Just a few bars. Then we can sub in the music.” She claps her hands to draw the crew’s attention. “Who here knows how to play Moon River?”

The entire crew goes silent.

“From Breakfast at Tiffany’s?” Her voice lilts in exasperation.

“I do,” Max says.

“Right, of course,” I mutter as I rest my head in my palms.

A few seconds later Max slides onto the stool beside me. “Are you ready, or do you want to regret this for a little bit longer?”

“What am I regretting?” I glare at him. “Trying to find a nice date? Or...”

“Shh.” He presses his finger to my lips. “You can’t fib in front of old people.”

“Who says?”

“It’s a universal law.” He grins as his elbow bumps against my ribs. “Now copy my hands.”

I don’t know how many times we run those first couple minutes of song. Over and over until my fingers start to cramp, with Max bumping my ribs until I’m almost certain I’ll bruise, but I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face at the way he gets into the music, makes it fun. The little observations he makes about everyone in the room. And when he sings it’s something else.

“Okay. That’s enough,” Kelly says, bringing King back to us. “We really should finish this taping.”

As Max gets up and moves out of the shot, Kelly drops King in my lap. He’s a fluff ball of energy, shaking with excitement.

“Rolling,” someone calls out.

I press down on those first few keys, on the verge of cringing. Please don’t let me screw this up. Something hot spreads across my lap as King starts barking like crazy. At the other end of the room one of the old men clamps his hands over his ears and starts hollering about the noise. “Who let that fucking dog in here? People these days have no decency. Back in my day that mutt would have been kept outside in the snow.”

King escapes me, tearing across the room and leaving a trail of pee from my knee across the floor to the old man. All of us stare as the little dog stops, sniffs at the man, and then as though he hasn’t just emptied his bladder, cocks his leg and finishes on the guy’s shoe.

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