Ford rearranged himself to better accommodate her, accepting the fact that Laylee, clearly, wasn’t cut out for puppy sitting. Thank God he’d gotten home early, or Maybelline would still be miserable. He couldn’t bear it.
Tank, also excited, yapped around him, the footwear forgotten. He scooped up the rascal and settled him next to Maybelline’s neck. “You guys missed me, huh?”
Happy barking and wiggling gave him all the answer he needed.
“I’m sorry,” Laylee said. “I know I suck, but your dog hates me.”
Oh, no. He wouldn’t let her put the blame on Maybelline. “She doesn’t hate anyone.” He kissed her furry head to reassure her.
“You saw how she was looking at me.”
Yes, and he’d seen where Laylee was sitting—well apart from the dogs. Was that what Maybelline had to put up with every day? “Who made all the mess?” He was guessing Tank.
“Tank is so sweet part of the time, but the rest of the time he’s a Tasmanian devil on a rampage.”
Ford could guess the problem. Laylee couldn’t exclusively pay attention to Tank, because that always drew Maybelline closer. Left to his own devices, Tank got into mischief. Now Ford had to decide what to do about it. They couldn’t continue like this. The dogs, and Laylee, were miserable.
She heaved a sigh. “Maybelline dumped in the kitchen again.”
Already knowing the answer, he asked, “Did you take her for a walk?”
She eyed him as if he was nuts. “Sorry, but I’m not attempting to walk that beast.”
Maybelline gave her patented low grumble, as if insulted.
“Oh my God, you see?” Yanking her feet up onto the couch as if to protect them, she pointed at the dog. “That’s what she does. She growls at me.”
He was deciding how to answer when Skye walked in. She glanced around, much as he had, then pinned a smile on her face. “Hey, everyone.” The dogs abandoned Ford and raced to Skye.
Gratified, he watched her react much as he had. She tossed aside her purse with a laugh and knelt down. Maybelline did knock her over, but Skye loved it. From her back, she hugged Maybelline while Tank licked her face.
Laylee, he noticed, looked wretched, and as she spoke, she sounded heartbroken, too. “Why do they love you guys so much, but hate me?”
Ford got to his feet. “You just need to give them a chance.” He leaned over Skye and managed to sneak a kiss between Tank and Maybelline’s snuffles.
“The big one growls at me all the time.”
Skye laughed. “She’s not growling, silly. She’s murmuring, probably in protest at your attitude.” Skye sat up, and Maybelline immediately settled beside her, luxuriating in the strokes and hugs she received. “She won’t bite, you know. She’s the gentlest dog ever.”
Unconvinced, Laylee crept over to stand behind Ford, using him as a shield.
Maybelline looked at her and murmured.
“She’s still growling!”
Ford tried, unsuccessfully, to get Laylee out from behind his back. “That’s not growling. Look.” He stepped away and put his hand in front of Maybelline. She nudged it for a pet. “She just wants attention.”
“She would bite me.”
Barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Ford decided to prove his point. “Never.” He put his handinMaybelline’s mouth—and the worst he got was slobber. “Come here. Let me show you.”
She rapidly backed up. “No way.”
Going for a different approach, Ford straightened and looked her in the eyes. “I’ll tell everyone your sister is braver than you.”
Laylee snorted. “Get real. Everyone already knows that. Nothing shakes Skye.”
Okay, obviously that tactic wouldn’t work. It didn’t help that Maybelline continued to stare at Laylee. He saw it as a longing to be her friend. Laylee, however, couldn’t seem to get past her fear.
