Puppy Love Page 6

  “So—um, how’d you learn so much about dog training, anyway?” I asked as he finally stepped away, allowing me enough space to breathe semi-normally again.

  He shrugged and smiled. “I’ve always loved dogs—we always had a pack about the place when we lived in Ireland. Guess I have a bit of a knack with them. That’s what everybody says, anyhow.”

  “Cool. So do you have a dog of your own?”

  I guess that was a stupid question, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Three of them, yeah,” he replied. “Couple of border collies and a Jack Russell terrier. I do agility and some obedience with the girls, and the terrier is a flyball fiend.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of that stuff,” I blurted out. See? My Internet research in preparing to get a puppy had come in handy! “Agility’s that obstacle course thing, right? That looks like fun.”

  “I bet Muckle would think so too.” Adam smiled at my puppy, who was sitting still for a change, gazing up at Adam adoringly. Like puppy, like owner. “You ought to try it with him once he’s got his basic training down. Actually, I teach a couple of beginner agility classes, plus take on some private students. I can give you the info if you think you might be interested.”

  “I’m definitely interested.” Understatement of the year.

  Adam’s smile widened. “Good. I like an enthusiastic student.” Suddenly his smile wavered, and he checked his watch. “Speaking of which, I just remembered—I’m supposed to be meeting a client over at the dog park in fifteen minutes, and it takes twenty to get there. I’ve got to go.”

  He actually sounded . . . disappointed. Could it be? Was he as reluctant to leave me as I was to see him leave?

  No, probably not. But if he was even a tiny bit reluctant, I’d take it.

  “Okay,” I said. “Thanks for the tips. And for helping me catch my little monster.”

  “Anytime.” He bent to ruffle Muckle’s fur, which made the puppy leap around in ecstasy. “See you in class, Muckle.” He straightened up and directed that megawatt smile at me again. “You too, Lauren.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t want this to end. “Um, actually, I’m on my way out too. I’ll walk you.”

  “Sure.” Adam glanced at Robert and Jamal, still barely visible at the far end of the aisle. “What about your friends?”

  “Um, they’re going somewhere after this. Without me.” Not wanting him to ask any more questions, I decided to switch us back to a safer subject. “So these private lessons—how often do you teach?”

  We chatted about his dog training schedule for the short walk out of the store. Realizing it would be pathetic to actually follow him to his car, I stopped on the sidewalk.

  “Okay,” I said, holding tightly to Muckle’s leash. “See you Tuesday.”

  “For sure.” He lifted one hand in a wave. “Later, Lauren.”

  “Bye.” I bent down and pretended to fiddle with Muckle’s collar so I had an excuse to stay right there, watching as he went striding out into the parking lot. He climbed into a beat-up beige minivan—not exactly the rugged Range Rover type of vehicle I would have imagined he’d drive, but whatever—and drove away.

  Only then did I head back inside. I found Robert browsing the magazine rack near the registers.

  “How’d it go, lover girl?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Great. Tell you after we get out of here.” I looked around. “Where’s Jamal?”

  “He took off after you went outside with your hot new boyfriend.” Robert shrugged. “Guess he was jealous.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny.” I wasn’t really focused on Jamal. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to wander up and interrupt once I started telling Robert about my Adam encounter.

  “You know, he actually isn’t the macho jock type you’d take him for at first glance,” Robert said.

  I blinked. “What are you talking about? Adam isn’t the jock type at all.”

  “I’m not talking about Adam,” Robert said. “I mean Jamal. I only started talking to him to keep him out of your hair, but he’s actually a pretty cool guy.”

  “Sure, he’s great. Maybe you two can go antiquing together sometime.” I snorted, then grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the door. “Now let’s get out of here so I can tell you all about Adam. And then start figuring out what I should wear to puppy class on Tuesday.”

  Chapter Eight

  Tuesday, 1:45 p.m. and counting

  When did school get so freaking boring?” I muttered to Robert as we walked out of English class on Tuesday afternoon.

  “It was always boring. You’re just noticing now?”

  Robert shuffled through his backpack—a vintage leather number he’d picked up on eBay. “Shoot, I forgot my science stuff. Walk me to my locker?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I trailed along after him. Every time I had to dodge a group of obnoxious jocks elbowing one another like Neanderthals, or a pack of expensively dressed prepsters slouching along as if they owned the planet, I found myself wishing I were at MVHS instead. Sure, there were probably plenty of jerks there, too. But at least there I’d have a chance of spotting my own personal Prince Charming in the halls.

  Speaking of halls, County Day Academy was located in a historic building right in the middle of what passed for a downtown in Maple View. That meant it was on the small side as schools went, with the lockers to match. I rarely bothered to leave more than my gym clothes and a couple of granola bars in mine. Actually, that was pretty much all that fit without squishing.

  But Robert hated getting his constantly rotating collection of designer bags and backpacks all distended with too many books, so he insisted on shoving stuff into his locker on a daily basis. Which could make it a challenge to get anything back out at times.

  “Did you finish the lab write-up last night?” he asked as he shuffled through the locker.

  “The what?” I wasn’t really listening. I’d been trying to figure out exactly how many minutes were left until that afternoon’s puppy class started.

  He smiled. “Ah, young love. It turns the brain to mush.” He chucked me under the chin. “Seriously though, Lauren, it’s nice to see you falling for a real-life Prince Charming for a change—especially since he happens to come with a hot accent. To be honest, the unrequited Corc thing was getting a little tired.”

  “Does that mean you’re tired of him, too?” I challenged.

  He smirked. “Not a chance. But we’re talking about you, sweetie. Like I said, it’s good to see you out there. Going for it. Flirting your pretty little head off.”

  I snorted. “Flirting? Me?”

  “What do you think you were doing the other day?” Robert lifted one eyebrow knowingly. “Trust me, I recognize flirting when I see it.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. Robert was definitely a romantic at heart—much more so than I was, actually. He was all about the meaningful glance, the first kiss, the happily ever after. All those sappy chick flicks he was always dragging me to were proof enough.

  Still, I wasn’t about to admit to anything when he was looking so smug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told him. “I don’t even know how to flirt.”

  “I beg to differ,” he retorted. “So does Adam, I’m sure. And Jamal, for that matter.”

  “Jamal?” I blinked at him. “Okay, I might concede your point when it comes to Adam. But I was definitely not flirting with Jamal.”

  Robert slammed his locker door shut. “Maybe you should try it sometime,” he said. “He’s almost as hot as Adam. No accent, of course, but the rest of the package is there—he’s cool, he’s smart, he’s more age appropriate. . . .”

  I stared at him, waiting for the punch line. But there didn’t seem to be one. Was Robert crazy? Jamal was cool and all, but he was no Adam.

  “Are you nuts?” I said. “I just met the man of my dreams, and you’re already trying to hook me up with some other guy?”

  “Sorry.” Robert hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder and checke
d his watch. “I’m just saying, if things don’t work out with Adam, it’s nice to have a backup. But I’m sure things will work out with Adam,” he added hastily, probably catching the murderous glint in my eye. “He’s totally perfect for you. He’s like Corc, only even better.”

  “Better than Corc?” I asked, slightly mollified. I didn’t know where the whole Jamal detour had come from, but I wanted to get back on track.

  “Yeah, totally.” We started wandering toward our next class. “He’s younger than Corc, for one thing. And available—no supermodels to compete with.”

  “Always a plus,” I agreed.

  “And then there’s the job,” Robert went on. “Tagging along on those world tours would get awfully old after a while, don’t you think?”

  “Of course.” I grinned at him. “You’re right. Adam’s perfect.”

  The bell rang, sending us scurrying off toward the science lab. I only hoped I wasn’t so distracted by my daydreams about Adam that I accidentally blew up the school. Not that I’d miss the school, mind you. But I didn’t want anything to make me late for puppy class.

  * * *

  After school, Robert and I stopped by his house first so he could change clothes. Then we swung by my house to pick up Muckle. He was waiting for us when I opened the front door, his entire fuzzy little body quivering with excitement. Mom was waiting too, and she was also quivering. But in her case, it was with irritation. She wanted to tell us all about how naughty Muckle had been that day, but luckily, I had an excuse to duck most of her complaints this time.

  “Sorry, Mom,” I said, snapping the leash onto Muckle’s collar while he leaped around joyfully, trying to lick my face. “We don’t want to be late for puppy class.”

  She frowned. “Yes, I suppose that dog needs all the class time he can get.” Then her gaze wandered to Robert. “What are you wearing, young man?”

  Did I mention that Robert had stopped to change clothes? He was flying solo in the Disguise Game that day, all decked out as a summer tourist even though it was almost November. A pair of oversize Bermuda shorts put his pale, knobby knees on full display. His second-favorite Hawaiian shirt—the one with luau scenes all over it—flapped over a white patent leather belt. A pair of antique binoculars hung around his neck, and the whole outfit was topped off with a wide-brimmed hat.

  “What, this old thing?” Robert shot Mom an innocent smile as he twirled on our front step. “It was a little warm in school today, so I thought I’d slip into something more comfortable.”

  “Hmm.” Mom turned away, clearly losing interest in Robert’s latest fashion statement. “Make sure you’re home in time for dinner, Lauren.”

  When we arrived at PetzBiz, Robert got out of the car and pulled his hat lower over his face. “Ready to go incognito,” he said.

  I sighed. “Must you? I mean, are you sure you don’t have any important shopping to do at the Goodwill store? It’s drop-off day, you know.”

  For a moment he looked tempted. Then he shook his head.

  “I want to be there for you, Lauren,” he informed me. “Keep an eye on things. Watch your back.”

  “Whatever.” I knew better than to try to talk him out of it. The more I’d try, the more stubborn he’d get. And the more likely to pull something embarrassing.

  As we reached the front door, I heard someone calling my name. Muckle spun around, yipping joyfully as Rachel and Gizi hurried toward us.

  “Hey!” I greeted her. “Ready for today’s class?”

  “I hope so.” Rachel sounded a little breathless. “I took Gizi for a long walk right after school so she’d maybe be calmer.” She glanced at her puppy, who was leaping around doing the crazy-puppy-happy-welcome dance with Muckle. “I’m not sure it worked.”

  I smiled sympathetically. Every time I saw Gizi, I was reminded that Muckle could be much worse. “This is my friend Robert,” I said. “Robert, this is Rachel. She goes to MVHS.”

  “Robert James Chase, at your service,” Robert said with his usual bow and flourish.

  “Rachel Kardos.” Rachel smiled shyly, clearly not quite sure what to make of Robert. He got that a lot. “Hi.”

  Robert tossed a salute in my general direction. “I’m off. Have fun, kids.”

  He hurried off, disappearing behind a stack of birdcages. “Where’s he going?” Rachel asked.

  “Who knows.” I rolled my eyes. “But don’t be alarmed if you notice him spying on our class. Robert can be strange at times, but he’s mostly harmless.”

  Rachel smiled uncertainly. “So how’s Muckle doing?” she asked. “Have you guys been practicing the stuff Adam taught us?”

  “Of course.” I could feel my face heating up as I remembered that extra private lesson on Sunday afternoon. But I wasn’t about to tell Rachel that. “I think Muck’s finally starting to catch on to the whole walking-on-a-leash thing. At least sometimes. Sort of.”

  She laughed. “I know what you mean. One step forward, two steps back, right?”

  “Yeah. And then ten steps off to the side, chasing a squirrel.” I was a little distracted, since I’d just spotted Jamal coming. Ozzy was turning himself inside out, he was so obviously happy to see us. To be honest, Jamal looked pretty psyched too. His smile lit up his whole face. Not that I was noticing things like that about him.

  Quickly scanning the surrounding area, I was relieved to see that Robert was nowhere in sight. Although he could be hiding somewhere, of course. Probably peering through his binoculars and giggling over seeing me with Jamal. I frowned slightly as I thought about my best friend’s comments earlier. Where had he gotten the idea I was flirting with Jamal? That I’d ever flirt with Jamal? The guy was cool—and okay, anyone with eyes could see that he was good-looking—but he was so not my type. Even without Adam in the picture, there was just no way.

  “What’s up, ladies?” Jamal said as he reached us. “I was afraid I’d be late—I had to stay after school to talk to my cross-country coach about next weekend’s meet.”

  “Nope, you’re right on time.” Rachel smiled at him. “Should we head back to the training area?”

  “Sure. Let’s go.” I hurried off, practically dragging Muckle away from his delighted greeting ritual with Ozzy. If my cheeks were going pink because of stupid Robert’s stupid comments, I didn’t want the others to notice and wonder. Especially Jamal. He was a nice guy, and I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.

  As soon as we started class, I forgot all about Jamal, Robert, and everything else. Even my own name, probably. Because Adam was just as amazing as ever. He was energetic, he was knowledgeable, he was totally focused on the dogs. We started by reviewing some of the stuff we’d done in the first class. Just your basic sit, down, walk on a leash. Most of the puppies seemed a little better today, though the hound mix was just as hopeless as ever, and Ozzy kept getting distracted by Jamal’s shoelaces.

  As for Muckle? He started off okay and performed his sits like a champ. But while we were walking, a bird flew overhead. Yes, a bird. I could only assume it was a wild sparrow or something that had mistaken the cavernous store for some kind of natural cave and found a way inside, since the store didn’t sell any live animals except fish.

  And that was all she wrote. The other dogs didn’t even notice the bird. But Muck started jumping around, head pointed skyward—well, ceilingward—barking like a loon.

  “Lauren.” Suddenly Adam was at my side. “Having some trouble over here?”

  “Sorry.” I was all too aware of his eyes boring into me. His body, so close to mine. I wanted to reach over and run my hands through his shock of raven hair, but I held back. “Um, he’s just a little distracted.”

  “Can I try?” He reached out.

  For one giddy moment I almost put my hand in his. I realized just in time that he was actually reaching for the leash. I handed it over, trying not to shiver as our hands touched briefly.

  “Okay, Muckle,” Adam said, bending down to caress the puppy’s fuz
zy head. “Let’s show them how it’s done, eh?”

  Then he straightened up and walked to the center of the ring. And what do you know? That disloyal little beast trotted along beside him, in almost perfect heel position, as if he’d been doing it all his life. Figured.

  “All right, everyone,” Adam called out to the entire class. “Let’s stop and sit and watch for a moment. I’m going to demonstrate a few things with Muckle here. . . .”

  He went on to do exactly that. And what do you know—once again, the Muckster was a superstar! Oh, I wouldn’t claim he was perfect. But he seemed to turn into a whole different pup with Adam at the other end of the leash.

  It was amazing. It was awe-inspiring. It was hot.

  Suddenly something clicked into place. Up to that point Adam had fit right into my usual type in some ways—the hair, the eyes, the accent. But he’d been an anomaly in others. I’d always gone for artsy guys. Singers like Corc, various actors, the occasional hip-hop dancer or whatever.

  But now I realized something. The thing they’d all had in common wasn’t being artsy so much as it was having a passion for something, whether that something was music, acting, or dance. That was what had attracted me to them, given them that certain something I couldn’t resist. And by that standard, Adam fit right in. His passion was dogs, and he had a real talent with them—just as he’d modestly mentioned the other day.

  The thought made me feel a tiny surge of optimism. And not only about my (potential) love life, either. With Adam helping me, maybe Muckle wasn’t a lost cause after all. Maybe he could work his magic, turn things around, make Muckle’s behavior acceptable even to my über-picky parents.

  Before I knew it, Adam was calling an end to that day’s class. Where had the time gone?

  “One more thing,” he said as we started to gather up our stuff. “I forgot to mention it last time, but I wanted to tell you about the dog park over in Springdale. It just opened this past summer, and it’s a very cool place. They definitely created it with dogs and dog owners in mind. There’s agility equipment, private runs for smaller dogs, all kinds of stuff. I suggest you all check it out if you can. Because remember—a tired dog is a good dog.” He smiled. “Maybe I’ll even see you there—I take my dogs all the time. Okay, good class, everyone! See you on Saturday.”