Page 3 of Love to Hate You

“Does Friday morning work?”

As the fixer in the family, a characteristic that had bled over into her personal and professional life, Summer had developed a finely tuned facility for being a human pacifier.

“Sure,” she said, her cheeks hurting from the weight of her smile. “Why not.”

It wasn’t like a cute dog with attachment and humping issues would scare away her customers.

God, what was she thinking?

She should say no. Stand her ground. Tell her inner people-pleaser to shut up. Remind that stubborn witch that she wasn’t looking for a friend, she was looking for her forever. And, for a moment there, she’d thought she’d found him. Maybe Summer could salvage the situation, keep herself open to a friends-to-lovers kind of situation. Or maybe she was looking for love in the wrong place.

Her sister would know how to turn this date around. How to get out of the friend zone. Autumn had this magnetic and sensual confidence about her that drew people in, especially men. She made being popular look easy, and there wasn’t anyone she couldn’t win over.

Unless it was about books or movies, Summer had a hard time striking up a conversation with strangers. It was a leftover from a quiet childhood spent watching people through the lens of her insecurities. Insecurities she could no longer afford if she was to stand any chance of finding her person.

Even as babies, Autumn had demanded center stage: walking first, talking first, being the right amount of snuggly and independent. Summer would rather be behind the spotlight, shining that beam on anyone but herself. For the most part, it worked. But there were times, like tonight, when Summer wondered what it would be like to have that easy confidence her twin sister possessed. How different would her life be? And how many things about herself would she have to alter to become the kind of woman a man like Dr. Daniel, or her ex, saw forever in?

Autumn flew by the seat of her pants, always landing on her feet. She could step through dog poop and come out smelling like roses, leaving the poop for someone else to clean up—someone like Summer. But Summer was tired of being on poop duty; she wanted to smell the roses with someone who saw her as spotlight-worthy.

Before she could retract her offer, Daniel pulled her into an awkward side-hug. “I’ll pay you back. You need a handyman, a wedding date, a wingman, I’m your guy.”

He was most definitely not her guy. He was just another in a long line of misshaped meet-cutes.

“Couldn’t ask for a better wingman.”

On cue, Freckle jumped in on the action, or the non-action as it were. She could feel his hips undulating against her calf and his claws digging into the fabric of her too-much-for-her-budget-but-looks-fabulous new sundress.

“Freckle, down,” Daniel ordered. Before he could get a hold of the pup’s collar, a loud rip tore through the evening breeze, leaving Summer with a slit she felt from her waist to her toes. Not to mention the sudden gust of crisp air.

It was as if someone had plugged in an air conditioner and aimed it at her butt.

“Oh my god.” Summer plastered her hands on her ass and looked over her shoulder to check out the extent of the damage. “Oh my god.”

It was even worse than she’d imagined. Her entire backside was on full display. No amount of tugging could close that hole. A hospital gown would have been less revealing.

At least she had on her sexiest pair of panties. Not that Daniel was looking. He kept his eyes front and center and his hands to himself.

Summer waited for him to say something quippy to lighten the mood and make the embarrassment flooding her cheeks subside. A real hero-to-the-rescue kind of banter, straight from the pages of a Nora Ephron screenplay. Instead, he simply said, “Uh-oh.”

Uh-oh. A real heartstopper there.

“Summer, I am so sorry. We’re still working on commands like ‘down’ and ‘sit.’”

And “no humping,”she thought.

Humiliation hitting her like a cannonball to the chest, Summer gripped the tattered edges of her dress and backed away, wishing she could disappear into the wall. “It’s okay. It was an accident.”

Daniel cataloged her from head to toe and then chuckled—and it was not a you-look-beautiful-even-if-the-dress-

is-ripped chuckle. “You know, when you first approached me at the park—”

“I didn’t approach you. Our leashes got tangled.”

“—I thought you were Autumn. But after tonight, I can totally see the difference.”

Summer’s pride took a direct hit. “You mean when I tripped over my words, or when your dog ripped my dress?” Because neither of those things would have happened to Autumn. She wouldn’t allow it.

“I didn’t mean—”

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