“I’m counting to four before I get out of this car and drag you by your underwear in here,” Ivan called out.
I wrinkled my nose, and without totally accepting that I’d made a decision, I said, “You can try, but I’m not wearing any,” a moment before I walked around the curved front of his hood and opened the passenger door. Cold air conditioning was the first thing that hit me. The second thing that hit me as I slid my butt onto the captain’s chair was the fact that the brown snout that I’d seen above Ivan’s shoulder a moment ago was now hovering over the headrest of the seat I was in.
The dog’s eyes were hazel. Huh. And he looked… really interested and curious. About me.
“Hi,” I whispered, mostly because my throat hurt after talking so loud and yelling at Ivan.
“He doesn’t bite, but he drools,” Ivan informed me. “You can pet him if you want.”
The dog was still staring at me from two inches away. But Ivan was right; he didn’t look even a little bit aggressive. He looked like he wanted me to pet him, and if the thump, thump, thump said anything, it was that he really wanted me to pet him.
So I did. I raised my hand with a closed fist and let him smell me. And when that went okay, I opened my hand and stroked the top of his head gently, and when that went fine, I drew my hand over the soft, soft fur on his ears.
Then he licked me.
And I couldn’t help but smile, even as my head hurt and my throat ached and I felt like a complete asshole for getting caught.
Ivan didn’t say another word as I stared at his dog with possibly the biggest, dumbest smile I’d had on my face in a really long time, but finally, after a few moments, he said, very calmly, very coolly, “Buckle up. I’m not getting a ticket for you.”
I looked at his dog, Russell, one more time, stroked his ear, and then sat back in the seat and slipped the seat belt on. Just as soon as the metal clicked into place, the same yip I’d heard before I’d gotten into the car came through the van once more, and Ivan clearly groaned as he shifted the van into drive.
“Lacey, I swear to God, don’t start,” he tossed out over his shoulder.
He was already driving when I turned to glance into the second row, coming face to face with Russell once more before I moved and got a good look at the passenger making noises. Sure enough, Russell was standing in the sliver of space between the seats, but wedged in the corner of the second row… in a pink harness that was latched through the material of a seat belt, was a small, short-haired white dog with pointed ears and a snub nose.
“Is that…?” I started slowly, feeling like this was a dream, and if it wasn’t a dream, I knew nothing about Ivan. Absolutely nothing. Everything I’d thought I’d known was a goddamn lie, and I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. “Is that a French bulldog?”
We were already on the road and heading toward the nearest major freeway when Ivan nodded, his eyes on the rearview mirror. “Yes. The diva in the back is Lacey. She’s in time-out. I should’ve left her at home, but she can’t be in the car with anyone else other than Russ, and today’s his day for a ride.”
He’d just said his dog was in time-out, hadn’t he?
Oh my God.
I almost couldn’t get the question out, I was so torn up in this second life and second personality I had no idea this person I trained with six days a week was capable of. But somehow, I managed. “Why is she in time-out?” I practically whispered.
“She’s been giving me a lot of sass this morning, picking on her sisters, trying to steal food, peeing on one of the beds because she got in trouble,” he explained like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I didn’t know what to say. The dog had been giving him sass, picking on her sisters, trying to steal food, and had peed out of revenge. Just like that. So I didn’t say anything else. Because what the hell else was I supposed to do?
I didn’t know this man. I didn’t know this man at all, and it made me feel awful. More like shit than I already did.
How had I not known he had dogs? And more dogs from the sound of it, because how else would Lacey have sisters?
Damn. I didn’t really know anything about Ivan.
But maybe no one did. Because there was no way the girls in the changing room would have avoided talking about his prissy white Frenchie if they knew about her. Hell, his fans would probably throw dog toys at him at the end of his programs if they did.
No one knew. There was no chance.
But here he was.
The sound of a low growl, so high in pitch but at the same time quiet, had me glancing over my shoulder to eye the white body in the second row of seats. She wasn’t even looking at me; it honestly looked like she was glaring at the back of Ivan’s seat. But it was the pink harness she had strapped to her chest and then secured by a seat belt that I couldn’t get over.
And I was almost positive she had a lighter pink collar with rhinestones on it. At least I thought they were rhinestones.
Then it was my turn to glance at Ivan, knowing there was no way I was about to let this go. “Your little dog has a seat belt on,” I said, like he hadn’t been the one to strap her in.
All he did was drop his chin a fraction of an inch, gaze focused ahead of him. “She moves around too much in the car. She doesn’t know how to sit still.” He glanced at me. “Like someone I know.”
I ignored his comment and eyed the dog again. She was still glowering at Ivan’s seat. I could feel the tension and drama coming off her.
Huh.
“I don’t need her flying out of the windshield if we’re in an accident either,” he went on, oblivious to me sneaking peeks at his dog. “Russ only gets up when I’m not driving,” Ivan continued explaining, easily. “He’s a good boy.”
That had me glancing at Russ, who I thought might have been a brown Lab but wasn’t totally sure. He was lying on the floor in between the seats at that point with his head on top of his paws. His tale went thump, thump.
“I didn’t see any signs of dogs at your house,” Ivan commented out of the blue.
I shifted forward again to look out the windshield. “No. My mom’s allergic.” Then, without even meaning to, I said, “My sister used to have one.”
“Which one? The ginger or Ruby?”
I glanced at him again. “Ruby,” I answered him. “It was Aaron’s dog. He passed away a couple of years ago.” I had cried, but I’d never told anyone about that.
Ivan nodded slowly, as if that said everything. “Is she the youngest?” he asked, his tone still snobby.
“In my family?”
“Uh-huh,” was his response as he steered us through traffic.
“No.” Wasn’t it obvious? “I am. She’s five years older than me.”
He swung his head around to give me a “you’re full of shit” expression. “She is?”
I didn’t even get offended. “Yeah.”
“You’re the baby?” he asked, sounding totally surprised.
“Why are you saying it like that? You’re making me feel like I need to apply for an assisted living home or something.”
“It’s just….” He scrunched up his nose as he drove and even shook his head. “I don’t know.” He glanced at me and shook his head again.
I knew what he meant. It’s what my mom and everyone had always said about me. Physically, I looked younger than Ruby, who still had a baby face like my mom’s. But I had an old, grumpy grandma soul. “I get what you’re trying to say.”
From the way he was contorting his face, it was like he was still in denial. “You’re really that much younger than her?”
Sliding my hands under my thighs, I held back a sigh as I leaned my head against the seat. “Yup. She had a heart condition for a long time. We were all really overprotective of her.”
“I didn’t know that. She’s cute,” he threw out suddenly, and my head did something straight out of the Exorcist. I swear to God my neck swiveled effortlessly, without a hitch, as I turned to glare at him.
“Don’t look at my sister. She’s married.”