He zipped up his jacket and moved quickly.
She threw the door open, but before he crossed the threshold, he spun back and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
She all but slammed the door in his face.
“There you are, Sugar Plum.”
Stewart and Paula entered the kitchen, their gazes sweeping the scene.
“Goodness.” Paula’s hands clasped in front of her. “It looks like a tornado went off in here.”
Rachel pressed her backside to the counter’s ledge and clumsily wove her arms over her chest. “I was just working on that mistletoe project for December Décor. Sorry I made such a mess. I’ll clean it up.” She strode across the hardwood, taking a trash bag with her. Jamming the many failed attempts into the bag, she forced some calm into her breathing. She was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t get a hold of herself. And Holden was going to freeze if her parents didn’t leave the room quickly.
“Did you make any progress?” Paula asked.
“A little.” Rachel’s shoulders trembled in a nervous wobble.
Because she had made progress, right? Just not with the thing they were referring to. Only two days ago, she and Holden were lifelong adversaries. And only moments ago, he’d kissed her on the cheek. If that wasn’t progress, Rachel didn’t know what was.
“My heavens!” Paula practically jumped. “There’s a dog in here!”
How had Rachel forgotten? That dog slumbered so silently beneath the kitchen table that she’d nearly made herself invisible.Nearly.
“Wait…is that Holden’s dog?” Paula stepped closer and bent low, about to investigate the ownership tag attached to Scout’s collar.
Rachel couldn’t lie her way out of this. “It is. I’m dog-sitting.”
With her hands on her knees to help push her back up, Paula straightened. “You’re dog-sitting Holden Hart’s dog?”
Stranger things had happened, right? Like that moment when Holden kissed her cheek—that took the cake.
“I am.”
“And why are you watching his dog?”
While Paula interrogated her daughter, Stewart slowly moved about the room like a detective scanning for out-of-place evidence.
“He was out checking on neighbors and came by. His dog seemed cold. I offered for her to stay here while he finished up.”
“She was cold? I thought she was training to be an Avalanche Rescue Dog.”
“Right. Sure,” Rachel stammered. “She is, but even rescue dogs deserve a cozy place to nap. Plus, I’ve been thinking about getting a golden retriever, so this is good practice.” The lies strung together like a chain of paper snowflakes.
“You’re thinking of getting a dog of this size? To live with you in your six-hundred square-foot apartment?” Paula gave her daughter a dubious look. “I thought your landlord didn’t allow pets.”
“It’s more of a suggestion than a hard and fast rule.”
After circling the kitchen, Stewart came to a stop in front of his wife and daughter. “Then Isuggestyou think twice about it. Dogs are a big responsibility, Rachel. And if you get that promotion, you won’t have much time for one. That’s not fair to you, and it’s really not fair to the dog.” He moved closer to Rachel. “And it’s also not fair to leave Holden outside in below-freezing temperatures.”
“What?”
Stewart walked across the small kitchen and flung open the backdoor. There stood Holden—stock-still—directly on the other side.
“Oh!” Rachel went into an acting mode she didn’t even know she possessed. “Hey there, Holden! I didn’t realize you were back already. Scout’s been a great girl. Thanks again for letting me dog-sit her.”
She would not get any Oscar nominations for this sorry performance.
“Right.” Holden’s chin lowered in a nod as he caught on. “Yes. Thank you for watching my dog. How much do I owe you?” He moved for his wallet.
