Page 13 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

And of course she was. She’s the professional here. I’m the bumbling moron with a dog basically running his whole life.

A soft smile plays on Emily’s lips, and I feel seen in a way that’s both unnerving and comforting. There’s warmth in her gaze that thaws a corner of my heart.

“Nice job,” she says, still grinning.

“Maybe,” I concede, allowing myself a small sliver of hope.

I hand another treat to Baxter, his eyes flickering with understanding and eagerness. It’s a small moment of success, but still a great one… until Emily speaks.

“I heard about your father,” she says gently. “I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t realize that he had passed so suddenly.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, the words feeling like pebbles in my mouth.

My gaze drops to the floor, tracing the grain of the wood rather than meeting her concern. The walls of my heart throb, still too raw, too tender from the grief and resentment that cling like ivy. It’s such a complicated thing, relationships. My father was my hero while at the same time my greatest enemy.

How do I make peace with that truth — especially now that he’s gone?

“Did you plan on taking Baxter after your dad passed?” Her voice is soft, probing the edges of my private world.

“No,” I admit, the truth heavy on my tongue.

I don’t want to tell her any more. To reveal the condition of my inheritance, to lay bare the nature of my bonds with both my dad and Baxter feels like undressing a wound. I can’t have her see me as anything less than what I project — a man who means business, always in control and unflinching.

But as I watch her kneel beside Baxter, offering both discipline and affection with such ease, a strange sensation unfurls within me.Why does her opinion matter? Since when do I care about being seen as callous or ambitious?

“So, why did you take him?” She tilts her head, locking eyes with me. She’s waiting for more, a glimpse into my fortress.

But I deflect, sealing the gates. “He’s… he’s good company,” I finish lamely.

She blinks, and I can tell she doesn’t believe me. She’s seen the way I am with Baxter, knows there’s more to the story.

“Let’s do some leash training next,” she says, leaving me relieved that the conversation is ending.

The session continues, our time together passing in the blink of an eye. As Emily packs up her things, I feel a sense of both relief and regret. I need to get to work — I’ve lost so much time to dog training already — but I don’t want her to go.

“Good job today. See you next time.” She shoulders her bag.

“Yes. See you. Thank you again.” It’s all I manage before she slips out the door. I watch it close behind her, my breath caught somewhere between longing and relief.

I am getting soft, aren’t I?A whimsical thought, one that would’ve made my father chuckle, no doubt.

“Come on, Baxter,” I sigh, putting his leash on and leading him to the car.

As Baxter settles into the passenger seat, I glance around the parking garage, knowing Emily probably already left but also hoping for one more glimpse of her.

“I’m acting like a teenager,” I tell Baxter.

He licks the window.

“And I’m talking to a dog,” I mutter. “What the hell is happening to me? I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”

The more important question is, is that a good thing or a bad thing?

CHAPTER 8

EMILY

“Ijust don’t get Isaac,” I murmur to Jenn, who sits across from me on the couch, sipping her coffee slowly.

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