Page 17 of Fake Dating the Silver Fox

I linger in his hug for a long moment before breaking away to join Lark. We read a few testimonials, entertain the crowd with some prepared jokes, then make the last call for the silent auction. All the while, my mind is on Graham.

I’ve got just enough time to check on my bid for Cupid before the clock runs out. To my disappointment, someone has outbid me for him.

Whoever number three-hundred-twelve is, they have been very competitive. They’ve driven the adoption price for Cupid up to thirty-five hundred dollars, outbidding the others one-by-one.

My heart sinks. I had set my sights on Cupid, and I’m disappointed not to have won him. But part of me is happy someone fell in love with the cute little ball of fluff enough to pay a designer price for him.

The auction ends with an eruption of applause, and the bidders line up to claim their prizes. I find Graham in the crowd and watch as he loads up on several items. His arms are full as a volunteer strides up to him with a huge smile.

“Congratulations!” She hands him a leash, and on the other end, is the ugliest cute dog in the room.

Graham has adopted my Cupid.

ChapterSeven

Graham

Adoptinga dog is a lot more work than I’d thought it would be. Cupid might be tiny, but what he lacks in size, he more than makes up for in demands.

He eats special food, requires two daily walks, and his sleeping arrangements are whatever and wherever he likes. So far, he likes my pillow, my bathrobe, and my desk chair.

He’s pretty much claimed my desk chair. To sit in it to type, I have to put him in my lap. It’s not easy typing with a dog in my lap.

I give up on writing and take him into the yard, where I throw his ball over and over. My arm gives out before he does. When I can’t think of anything else to get him to settle down, I call Mara for emergency help.

“Hello?”

The sexy sound of her voice over the phone is a welcome balm to my frayed nerves. “I’m desperate.”

“Graham?”

“Yes. It’s me.”

“Why are you whispering?”

Cupid opens one eye, staring me down as I tiptoe past his resting place. “Cupid is trying to nap.”

The soft sound of her laugh makes my heart ache to see her. “He’s a handful.”

“I need your help.”

“What can I do for you?”

The offer has me thinking of a dozen things, none of them involving a pet. “Do you know how to train a dog?”

“That depends. What do you want him to do?”

“I’d settle for him giving me a little personal space. I can’t even go to the bathroom by myself.”

“He’s got a bad case of Velcro-dog.”

“I can’t get anything done.”

There’s a long pause. “I’d be glad to take him back if you want to give him up.”

“No.” I reach down and give Cupid’s furry ears a rub, and he gazes up at me with adoration. “Too late. I love him.”

“Aww. That’s so sweet.”

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