Does the man know anything about dogs?
“What the hell, Carter?” I demand. “Are you trying to kill him?”
“Don’t be dramatic, sprite,” Carter says. “I’m just trying to get him to get his lazy ass up.”
I see stars. Angry, burning red stars. Because the audacity of this man.
Carter is about to find out just how loud a mad librarian can get.
“Rudy doesn’t want to be an athlete! He wants to be a regular normal dog!” I’m practically shouting, but I don’t care. I didn’t take care of Joe’s sweet pup just for him to drop dead because of some egomaniac ballplayer. “He can’t do ten-mile runs, Carter! He’s not a young dog!”
“Now listen here, sprite—”
“No, you listen!” I snap, poking him in his extremely hard chest for good measure. “I know that you’re used to doing whatever you want, but you can’t do that with Rudy. Rudy’s needs come first.”
“Well, that seems a little dramatic.”
“Of course it does to you,” I say. “Because you’re selfish, Carter Sheppard! And you aren’t a good dog father.”
“Wow,” Carter says, adding a whistle as he shakes his head. “I’ve got you all hot and bothered.”
At the words “hot” and “bothered,” my brain goes into a tailspin back into its Carter fantasy. I turn away from him to focus on Rudy, trying to bury the blush that’s surely surfaced on my face.
“Yeah, you idiot,” I say. “Call the tabloids and tell them, ‘Carter Drives Local Librarian to Insanity.’”
But it’s exactly the wrong thing to say because his eyes light up.
“That’s a great idea,” he replies, slowly, delight covering his stupidly handsome face. “People believe everything they read on those trashy sites. That’s exactly how we tell them about us.”
“There is no us, Carter. There is only Rudy and the vet I’ll be calling once I am done with you. I’ll never be your wife material.”
“Wait a second, you just agreed to the plan,” he says. “It was your plan!”
“It was a joke,” I snap. “Familiar with them?”
He smirks. “In all good jokes is a dash of truth, right?”
Oh, I hate him. I hate him so much.
“Just leave Rudy with me,” I demand. “I’ll take care of him.”
His eyes light up again. “That’s it, isn’t it?” Carter asks, bending down so we’re face to face. “That’s how I convince you.”
“Pardon me?” I say, trying not to be affected by how close he is.
“We’ll get engaged,” he says. “And in return, you’ll get everything you want.”
As if I can be bought. I roll my eyes.
“Everything I want?” I reply sarcastically. “You’re going to open a line of credit for me at the mall in exchange for being married to you? Will you be needing an heir in this arrangement as well? A male one, I presume? Then we’ll go our separate ways? Do you read a lot of historical romance novels, Carter?”
“But I have exactly what you want,” he says, grinning while rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“Excuse me?”
“The dog,” he clarifies. “You want the dog—the only thing I inherited from Uncle Joe, by the way. Ryan got a house. Jake got a farm. And I got this used dog, which is weird because I always sorta thought I was Uncle Joe’s favorite…” He trails off, tapping his bottom lip with a single fingertip as if he’s deep in thought.
“Do you have a point here?” I interrupt his musings on being everyone’s favorite. He’s got a legion of Shepphoes to warm his ego so I’m not real concerned about his inheritance situation.
“I’ll swap you for the dog,” he offers with a huge grin. “And you don’t even have to go through with the marriage part. I just need to get this sponsorship contract renewed. Good PR for me, and you can have your happy ending with Rudy.”
Well.
That changes things.
Because suddenly, I can’t think of a compelling reason not to do it, because Rudy!
I waffle. This could get me everything I’ve ever wanted. Okay, that’s dramatic, but Rudy and I are meant to be. And what’s a fake engagement to get the dog of your dreams back?
Carter reaches his hand out as he stands up. I look at his hand like it’s a snake, but finally, I give in and take it. I ignore the electricity that races up my arm at the touch.
“Fine,” I say, yanking my hand away as soon as possible. “But I’m taking Rudy now because you clearly cannot be trusted with his care.”
“Deal.” Carter grins. “But the joke’s on you, sugar plum. I only made Rudy walk twenty feet before he stopped to smell something, then flopped his lazy ass down.”
“As if,” I say. “I can tell you’ve been on a run. Don’t bother lying to me.”
“Not lying,” he says, handing me the leash. “You’re right, though. I went for a run. Then I circled back to take Rudy on a two-block walk. The lazy bum couldn’t get more than twenty feet into this hike.”