Lily’s hands landed on her hips. A slow burn of irritation, years in the making, set in. It wasn’t just the dog. It was Rush and his coldness this morning. It was Tucker. Angela.
It was the fact that she’d almost deluded herself one more time that she could be happy with him.
And now this damn dog was treating her like she didn’t exist either?
No.
Nope.
She straightened her spine, inhaled deeply, stalked toward the stick and picked it up. Narrowing her eyes, she walked to Riggs like she meant business.
Riggs’s pointed ears flicked forward just slightly, like he was finally registering her existence. But instead of waiting for her to throw the stick again, his jaws opened, and he clamped down on the stick in her hand possessively.
He growled, sounding scary and maybe a little hungry, and tugged.
Lily froze, her instincts warning her to back off slowly.Do not challenge Cujo.
But then Rush’s voice from last night echoed in her head.
He’d probably settle for a firm command and not acting like you’re scared of him.
And that pissed her off. She wasn’t scared. She was cautious. Riggs just needed to see her as the boss.
Lily took a deep, cleansing breath, and lowered her voice in her best imitation of Rush’s deep, no-nonsense command. “Drop it.”
Riggs didn’t move.
Fine.
Some instinct inside of her knew she had to win this one, come hell or high water.
She squared her feet and projected as much calm, authoritative energy as she could summon.
“Drop it.”
The tension stretched, silent and heavy, as Riggs’s sharp black eyes seemed to assess her and find her wanting.
Seconds passed.
Then finally he released the stick.
It worked!She whooped and jumped in the air. “Good boy. You’re the goodest boy, aren’t you?”
Feeling victorious, she leaned down to give him a well-deserved pat. Riggs growled, and she snapped her hand back so fast she nearly dislocated her shoulder.
Riggs gave her a long, unimpressed stare. She cleared her throat, crossed her arms, and summoned Rush’s no-nonsense presence.
Riggs’s tail moved the tiniest wave, and he nudged the stick toward her the tiniest bit then sat back to watch her next move.
“We’ll get there,” she muttered under her breath, “Eventually. Probably.”
She threw the stick as far as she could into the woods, and Riggs took off like a shot out of a cannon, bounding through the snow with pure, reckless enthusiasm. Watching him, something shifted in the air. Lily’s shoulders relaxed, and she smiled at the sheer enthusiasm of the dog. It was almost as if he had been dying to play the entire time; he’d just wanted to make sure she was worth the effort.
She grinned.Hell yes.
Riggs bounded back, stick triumphantly lopsided in hismouth, and impulsively she scooped up a ball of snow and threw it at him.
He jumped up to catch it, jaws opened wide, showing all those pointy teeth. He landed, looking briefly offended, then pure joy lit his doggy face as he charged straight at her.
