She snickered. “Did he get you again?”
“Only three times,” I grumbled. “But this last time, it was Diva.”
“That explains the wailing. I thought you’d finally lost it over his unwanted attentions.”
“Ha-ha,” I said dryly. “I am secure in my manhood. I can handle a guy’s attention. I mean, who can blame him, right? I’m a catch.”
The memory of Jamie peeking up at me through his eyelashes resurfaced.Hisattentions had made me far more nervous than little Ricky’s—but then Sammi didn’t know anything about that.
She smirked. “It’s good to have self-confidence, but I’m pretty sure Ricky would hump anyone, big guy. His tastes aren’t exactly discerning.”
I snorted. “I’m kind of relieved it isn’t reserved only for me.”
Ricky tried to take a flying leap off the counter, and I grabbed him, keeping him in place. Sammi tossed me the box of treats, and I bribed him into settling down with a rawhide chew.
Yapping started up in the daycare room. I groaned. “I guess Ricky and I will rejoin the masses.”
Sammi pushed back in her office chair. “I needa break from this, anyway. Planning this dog festival was supposed to be fun, but it’s a lot more work than I expected.”
“Do you need some help?”
She paused on her way to the door, giving me eyes that would have rivaled Bruno’s when I held a treat over his head. “Would you really? It’s pretty time-consuming.”
“I don’t have much else to do,” I said with a shrug.
She frowned. “I thought you signed up for matchmaking.”
“I did, and it was a disaster.”
“Seriously? What happened?”
The barking grew in intensity. I waved her toward the door. “Tell you later.”
Sammi went inside, the big alpha voice coming out. “Settle down!”
There were a couple of more barks, a whine, and a growl. But within two minutes, she had them calmed down. Whenever we had a truly problematic dog, we removed them from the crowd. We didn’t like to keep anyone locked up in a kennel, but occasionally pooches needed a time-out. Ricky was lucky we weren’t too busy to spoil him out here instead.
The doorbells chimed, and Iola came in. I was relieved that Ricky would soon be out of my hair, but nerves fluttered in my gut as she smiled brightly at me.
“Hank, dear, so glad to see you today! I’ve been wondering if you ever set up that matchmaking date?”
“I did,” I said cautiously.
“How did it go?” She leaned in over the counter, patting Ricky’s head, but 98 percent of her attention locked in on me. “Was it a love match?”
I laughed, but it sounded edgy to my own ears. “Not exactly, Iola.”
She pursed her lips. “Well, shoot. We don’t always get it right on the first try. What was the problem? Jamieis lovely.”
“Jamie is lovely,” I agreed carefully, “for a man.”
“What?”
“I don’t date men, Iola. You said you were going to match me with a woman.”
“And I did! Jamie Westerly, a hostess at the Dinner Bell. She’s new to town like you, and I thought you two would hit it off nicely.”
I shook my head. “That’s not who showed up, unless one of us is very confused about gender. My Jamie bakes dog treats.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, notmyJamie, buttheJamie who showed up for the date.”
