Page 23 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

The shepherd inches closer, pressing his wet nose against my hand as if sensing my internal turmoil. I scratch behind his ears, earning a delighted thump of his tail.

“I’ll be okay, boy,” I tell him. “I will be.”

Right. Because I always have been. No matter what life throws my way, I make it through. Somehow. Someway.

CHAPTER 13

ISAAC

“When’s the last time you went on a hike?” Emily asks.

She’s waiting for me and Baxter at the trail head, dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans and a flannel jacket, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. A picture of simplicity. My heart thuds in my chest, the sight of her driving a sharp pang through me.

She’s so beautiful it hurts.

“I don’t remember,” I confess with an apologetic smile. “It’s been years.”

Baxter is beyond thrilled, tugging at the leash and gasping in excitement. It was Emily’s idea to bring him here today. She said that it will be good for him to get some new smells and meet other dogs.

It’s not long before we come upon the first dog. Rounding the trail, we spot a little white dog on a leash. It starts barking and snapping, yanking at its leash in raucous excitement. Baxter remains quiet, his eyes intense but his tail wagging cautiously.Emily steps forward, kneeling beside him with a reassuring hand on his back.

“Good boy, Baxter,” she praises quietly, her voice warm and patient.

She has an instinctual way with dogs, calming even the most excitable of them. I watch her as she coaxes Baxter closer to the other dog, her gaze steady and voice firm yet gentle.

It’s not just dogs she has this effect on.

As we continue down the trail, I find myself stealing glances at her — her eyes squinting against the sun’s glare or her quick smile when Baxter successfully interacts with another dog.

There’s an understated beauty to Emily that’s wholly captivating. She doesn’t need designer dresses or diamond earrings — she just is. And that’s more than enough for me.

The silence between us is easy as we walk side by side, only the occasional crunch of twigs and rustle of leaves disrupting it. I keep Baxter at my side like Emily has taught us, and he actually does pretty well. When someone comments that he’s a beautiful dog, pride — unexpected and bright — fills my chest.

Baxter is mine. Not just a responsibility, not just a project, but a companion — and a good dog at that.

“Thank you,” I tell Emily.

She glances at me. “For what?”

I gesture at Baxter. “For training him… for trainingme.”

She bites into her smile, and she doesn’t have to say the “I told you so,” because I can feel it. I also don’t mind it. She was right; I was wrong, and I’m not too proud to admit it.

“I needed training more than him,” I say. “I needed to change some things.”

“Change can be good,” she says with a reassuring nod, and I believe her.

Change can be good, I repeat silently, watching Baxter race towards the next bend in the trail. And perhaps change is exactly what I need.

In more than one area.

“Did you grow up around here?” I ask, suddenly compelled to know more about her.

She glances at me, then back at the trail. “No,” she says. “I moved away from my hometown as soon as I could.”

There’s a tinge of something unspoken in her tone, a shadow across her otherwise open face, and I sense this isn’t territory she wishes to explore further. I respect that — after all, everyone has chapters they’d rather keep closed.

“Sorry for prying,” I say, easing back on the subject.

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