I sighed and nuzzled Pampi against my chest. At least this job made sense. Dogs being harmed, that I understood. That warranted my attention.
Babysitting an overeager wolf? That part… I could’ve done without.
Even if part of me kept reacting to him in ways I didn’t want to examine.
3
JAIME
By the time I pushed through the glass doors of the hotel lobby, my arms were aching from the bags and Pampi’s travel crate. I scanned the crowd for Chris, blinking against the bright lighting.
I’d overslept. I’d spent half the night conditioning Pampi for the noise and bustle of the show environment, doing last-minute desensitizing drills, then giving her a quick show-style groom so she’d pass at first glance.
So I hadn’t seen the dozen messages Chris sent throughout the night:
Chris: are we meeting there?
Chris: should we walk in together?
Chris: what time should I be ready?
And then finally:
Chris: I’ll be at the lobby at 8:30.
I checked the time. Nine. Shit.
I spotted him before he spotted me. Chris was standing stiffly near a display of brochures, jaw clenched, foot tapping a little too fast.
When his eyes landed on me, he pushed away from the wall and strode over with purpose.
“Where were you?” he hissed. “You’re thirty minutes late. Thirty. One of the staff already asked if I was ready to check in, and I had to tell them I was waiting for my husband. Do you know how suspicious that sounds when said husband is nowhere in sight?”
I lifted one hand in a half-hearted wave. “Partners.”
“Huh?”
“You said husband,” I said. “But Cooper said Peter and John are partners. It’s written on their client sheet.”
Chris stared at me like I’d grown a second head, then scoffed. His hand dragged through his hair, pushing it back in a frustrated sweep.
The motion bared his throat, and his cheeks were flushed with irritation, a sharp color that made my wolf perk up in interest. I immediately shut that down. Hard.
“Look,” I said, lowering my voice. “I’m sorry.”
He blinked, eyes fixed on me, like he was waiting to see what I was actually apologizing for.
“For being late,” I clarified. “I misjudged traffic.”
His expression didn’t change much.
“And for yesterday, at the kennel,” I added, the words more reluctant.
That earned me something. His lips pressed together, not quite a frown. Not quite forgiving either.
Chris studied me for a long second. I held his gaze. “Well? Do you accept my apology?” A beat.
“Fine,” Chris muttered, though I caught the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth before he turned away. “Let’s check in before anyone else starts staring.”
