Apparently oblivious, she started toward him, forcing him to stand his ground. “You must be Sebastian Sterling. My co-editor Vince had car trouble and asked me to handle the interview today.”
Co-editor?Thiswas the reporter? “No.” Sebastian didn’t want to deal with the stress of a last-minute change. “Give me the dog. And get off my driveway.”
She looked down at Digby. “You sure you’re safe here? You can hang with me for a while if you want.”
“Not funny.” The dumb dog gave her a smile and licked her chin. He fought off a moment’s temptation. His sister would kill him if he outsourced the dog-sitting. “You can’t just steal the dog.”
“Technically, Digby found me.” She tipped her head back toward the road. “And on public property.”
He wasn’t so sure about that, but proving his point would mean revealing the security tech he was installing.
“He looks like he’s had a rough morning,” she mused.
“Makes two of us.” Sterling raked a hand through his hair. “And he started it.” He pulled a leash from his back pocket.
“Aww. He looks like he’s ready for a bowl of water. He might even prefer a friendly face to the ‘brooding tech-guru’ vibe you’ve got going on.”
The dog whined, licking Holly’s chin again.
“See?” Holly grinned. “The press has already won him over. Your move, Mr. Sterling.”
He rolled his eyes. Why had he agreed to take on this pampered mutt? Oh right. Because he loved his sister. “I’ll take care of him.”
She stepped forward, a wary light in her eyes. Ignoring whatever that look was about, he clipped the leash to the collar. When his hands brushed against hers, the brief contact chargedthe air between them. Close now, he could smell the sunshine on her skin.
Weird.
Digby squirmed in his arms, painting kisses all over his face. “Chill, my dude.”
He scrubbed the dog’s chin, avoiding eye contact with the reporter. “He must have gotten out through a gap in the fence.” Glancing up, he caught her smile and his breath hitched. Her golden hair was made for the sunlight and now that he held Digby, he could see theBrookwell Buglelogo on her shirt. Her muddy shirt, thanks to the dog. “I haven’t had time to walk the entire property and make it dog-safe,” he said when he realized he’d been staring too long.
“Clearly.” Holly rubbed her palms together but the dirt remained. “I can help,” she offered.
“Why?”
“We could do the interview at the same time,” she mused. “Two birds, one stone.” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “In a town like Brookwell, folks notice when a beautiful dog goes wandering around like he’s auditioning for one of those tear-jerker commercials. The sooner we fix the problem, the better.”
He rarely enjoyed team efforts. Aiming a scowl at the dog, he asked, “Why do I care whatfolksnotice?”
“Small towns.” She tsked. “A bad first impression can last for generations,” she warned.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Your lesson to learn.” She shrugged. “I should probably mention the risk of predators. Since you’re new here.”
Now he scowled at her, though she seemed impervious. “What predators?” He didn’t care for the way she eyed Digby.
“Foxes, snakes, alligators.”
“Hear that?” he asked the dog. “You’re better off with me, inside.” Digby’s tail wagged wildly. “Thanks for the assist.”
She didn’t take the hint and leave. No, she leaned closer. “About the interview?”
“Bad time.” He took a step back. “I’ll reschedule.”
“I’m here now. We could just get it over with.”
Seb searched her gaze, looking for the trap. All he found was Holly’s relentless, genuine enthusiasm.
