his temporary owner, “but I’ll put up a notice in my shop.”
“Good. I appreciate you doing so.” Kane turned on his heel.
“Wait. You’re not leaving him here, are you?”
He stopped in the doorway. “Of course. I couldn’t possibly be responsible for the caretaking of a dog.”
“Why not? Are you allergic?”
“I don’t believe so.”
That right there. The way he talked. That, too, didn’t fit with the image of a cabin renter. Some weekend fisherman, or an avid hunter on a few days’ break from the daily grind. Every one of Paul’s friends was the typical guy-next-door, the kind that sat at the bar and knocked back a couple of beers, told a bawdy joke or two. This guy…not at all that type. How on earth did he ever become Paul’s friend, and not just friend, but best friend?
“Do you have two hands?” Susannah asked.
“Yes.” He gave her a dubious look.
“Two legs?”
The dubious look narrowed. “Yes.”
“Then that, along with this,” Susannah grabbed a five-pound bag of dry dog food from the shelf and thrust it into his arms, “is all you need for now. Even though we take great care of our shelter animals here, we first try to find foster families for them.”
“Foster families. For dogs.”
“Yep. And since this little guy is already attached to you, it should be no sweat for you to take him home. He’ll do much better emotionally with you, at your house, than he would stuck in a kennel all day anyway. And really, all you have to do is feed him, walk him and wait until his owner claims him.”
He stared at her. “Are you completely insane? I am not a dog person.”
Again, he had that air about him. Not just out of town, but completely out of her world. Out of her social stratosphere. Clearly, the man came from some money. He had to, given the way he dressed and talked. Why would someone like that want to stay in Chapel Ridge, Indiana, any longer than he had to?
While they’d been debating, the dog had left Susannah’s side and was now plopped down beside Kane, his little snout turned up expectantly. “Apparently he disagrees.”
“He’s a dog, he doesn’t know any better.” Kane waved in her direction. “You are the hot dog wash person. You take him.”
“No can do. I’m too busy with the wedding plans.”
“Last I checked, you weren’t the bride.”
No, she wasn’t. And Susannah had no intentions of becoming a bride anytime soon, that was for sure. A relationship, especially a serious one, would only derail the dream she’d worked so hard to fulfill.
“Let’s just say that being a bridesmaid doesn’t lessen my level of responsibility,” Susannah said with a little laugh.
Kane eyed her with a visual question mark, but didn’t press the issue. “He’s just a dog. Surely—”
“You can handle it as easily as I.” Susannah ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t need one more thing on her to-do list. Couldn’t the man see that? He may be handsome, but he had an obstinate streak as long as the Mississippi River.
She grabbed a leash and collar from the shelf and handed those to him, too, adding them to the top of the dog food. “You might want to put the leash to use right now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Rover there has some needs to attend to.” She pointed at the dog, who was sniffing at the room like a drug addict.
“He can wait.”
“Only if you don’t mind him messing up your car later.”
It took Kane a second, then he made the connection. His face wrinkled in disgust. “Absolutely not.” He waved at her. “Well, tell him to go do what he needs to do then.”
Susannah laughed. “I can’t tell a dog to do anything, at least when it comes to that particular bodily function. But you could try walking him.”
“Why? He has four paws of his own.”
Susannah rolled her eyes, then took the leash and collar out of Kane’s hand, fitted them onto the dog, then handed the other end back to Kane. “Walking the dog is when you move your two legs. The dog will get the idea, believe me.”
He stared at her, seeming horrified by the entire idea. “What about you?”
“I have other things to do, like my job.” She started to walk away.
“Wait!”
Susannah pivoted back. And nearly laughed out loud. Tall, muscular Kane looked lost. “It’s a pretty simple concept, Mr. Lennox. Put one foot in front of the other. Rover will follow. And if you go near some grass, his natural instincts will take over.” Before he could protest or ask her to do it, she pointed toward the back door of the shop. “There’s some grass right in the back parking lot. It’ll take five minutes, I swear.”
Kane scowled, but did as she said, walking stiffly out the door, with Rover following behind, pausing every half second to sniff. Susannah watched through the window, biting her lip, trying not to laugh. Too loudly.
A few minutes later, Rover was feeling much better and Kane had returned to the shop. “Now will you take him?”
“Why? You’re doing great. And besides, you’re on vacation, right? Staying at a cabin in the woods? Think of him as…a roommate.”
Kane scowled. “I don’t want, nor do I need, a roommate.”
The dog had plastered himself to Kane’s leg. Susannah gave him a grin. An SUV pulled into the parking lot, a familiar golden furball in the passenger’s seat. Her next appointment. “Seems like you have one, like it or not. Now, unless you want to help me bathe a golden retriever, and deck her out with some bows in her hair, you might want to head on home with your new best friend.”
An incredulous look filled Kane’s eyes. “Bows? On a dog?”
“She’s a girl. She likes to look pretty. Even if doing so leaves me looking like a sopping wet disaster afterwards,” Susannah added, brushing a clump of dog hair off her T-shirt. God, she was a mess. She looked about as good as her canine charges—before their baths.
Not that she cared, of course, what Kane Lennox thought about her appearance. It was simply that this man had her feeling off center. She didn’t care at all if he found her unappealing because she’d just finished giving a poodle a bath.
Except a part of her did care. And that part was annoyed that she worried whether she had any lipstick left on her mouth. Whether her bangs were askew. Whether she reeked of eau de puppy.
“What if…” He hesitated. “What if I help you with your work? Will
