Doggie Style Read online

  “If you bulk up the male race might come after me with pitchforks.” He takes the container out of the fridge and shakes it, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I swallow. “Is that a compliment, Mr. Vaughn?”

  He stands silent for an uncomfortable minute and then kicks off the counter, bending down to my ear. “I’d say it is, Miss Lowery.”

  I stand there stunned, aware that our last exchange vaguely resembled flirty and trying to remind myself to get a life. Not only is he a potential client, he’s also gay and therefore highly unavailable. I’m starting to think that might be what I find most attractive about him, at least on a subconscious level.

  The jingling of keys brings me back to the present and I turn around. “I go to the shop now.” He looks at his watch. “You coming?”

  “Yes.” I hurry around the counter, grabbing my bag from his stool and walking steadily to catch up to him. “I’m glad you see the plus side of me following you,” I say at the same time my foot hits something hard and I fall forward.

  As I try to catch myself, my coffee leaves my hands and in slow motion, I witness the liquid escaping the cup and build like a wave. It makes landfall all over Leo. My eyes shut and my shoulder hits the hardwood floor.

  “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  I glance up and Leo is standing with his shirt pulled out from his body and in one swoop, he’s half-naked in front of me again.

  “I’m so sorry.” I slide my body up off the floor, trying to maintain what little dignity I can, and notice the lump of dog stretched out beside me.

  “I’ll be back.” He walks by me, his head shaking, and disappears down the hall. “Cooper!” he screams and I wait for a man to come down the hall, but instead the lump I tripped over jets off in the same direction as his owner.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Cooper turns his head and looks at me with a sly grin when he’s halfway down the hall. I’m not sure whether he’s staking his claim or telling me I owe him one for getting Leo shirtless again.

  How many V-neck t-shirts does Leo Vaughn own? How would those strong shoulders look in a tailored suit? The questions run through my mind as I follow him to the shop. He drives like a grandpa. Stop and go, slowing down at curves. I should have told him I’d meet him there.

  We arrive outside the shop off of Beverly Boulevard, both parking in the back.

  “Maybe you should have driven with me?” Leo eyes Mike.

  I rub my hand on my beat-up Mustang. “Mike gets me where I need to go.”

  “Mike?” He pats his leg and Cooper jumps out of his Bronco.

  “Yes, Mike. He’s been with me since I was sixteen.” I place my hands on the hood and kiss it. “He’s loyal and dependable.”

  “Until he drops you on the side of the road at three in the morning. Uber should be your friend late at night.” Leo walks toward the shop, digging his keys out of his pocket.

  “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself.” I come alongside him and he stops the key mid-entry, his eyes catching mine.

  “I’m sure you can.”

  Then click and he steps into the shop. The lights flick on and he looks out of place in a store filled with tulle and sequins. “You can take a seat behind the counter.” He motions in that direction as he walks over to the clothing displays.

  I situate myself on the stool, crossing my legs, and pull a pad of paper and pen from my bag. “I’ll be so quiet, you’ll think I died.”

  He rolls his stunning blue eyes. “I doubt that.”

  I sit back and take a good look around at the shop. His merchandising skills are on point and everything is clean and organized. “How long have you had the shop?” I ask while he starts moving one section of doggie clothes over into the area he has designated for sales.

  “So you didn’t die?” His voice is filled with sarcasm.

  I hop down off the stool. Seems ridiculous for me to watch him work and not help.

  “You don’t have to help.” He watches me picking up hangers and moving them over.

  “I’m not the type to sit and watch.” I grab another stack and follow his lead.

  The silence between us is suffocating and I wish I could slither into his brain to know what he’s thinking.

  “Three years.”

  I peer over at him and he hands me a red marker.

  “I’ve been open for three years. Eight on Etsy.” He nods toward the clothes. “Mark them down by fifteen percent. Do you need a calculator?”

  “No, I’m good with numbers.” I won’t mention I failed algebra in college. But really, who actually uses algebra in real life unless they’re a mathematician?

  “I started by making my friend a raincoat for her Pekingese. She told a few of her friends. I put a few outfits on Etsy and bam, it all kind of took off from there.” He looks up from marking the price tags and smiles.

  “Well, your customers pay more for their dogs’ clothes than I do my own.” I hold up the seventy-five-dollar price tag for a winter jacket.

  He chuckles. “Yeah, it’s crazy.”

  “Where did you learn to sew?” I neatly fold the stack of holiday t-shirts.

  For a second, I’m not sure he heard me, but then he says, “My mom. She’s a seamstress on theatre row in Chicago. I would go with her on nights my dad worked and pretty soon she was teaching me to be her apprentice.”

  I smile, picturing a little blond boy standing near his mother watching her use a sewing machine. “That’s sweet.” I can’t help it, it just comes out and now I regret it because Leo’s giving me a strange look. I clear my throat. “Why did you decide to move to L.A.?”

  One side of his mouth tips up. “I wanted to be an actor. While my mom was sewing costumes and doing fittings, I’d sneak off to watch the play. It didn’t pan out though, and I needed money, so here I am.”

  “Regrets?”

  He looks me square in the eye. “Not one.”

  “That’s good.”

  The door opens and a woman walks into the store. Leo appears grateful for the distraction and heads across to the counter to greet her. “Hi, I’m Leo. Welcome to Canine Couture. Are you looking for something for this little one to wear or are you interested in a grooming?” Leo bends down to pet the dog but rears back when it bares its fangs and snaps at him.

  “Sorry, yeah, um, she doesn’t like men,” the woman says.

  “Someone should inform her what she’s missing out on.” Leo laughs and the customer reaches over, touching his arm.

  “I try to remind her of the good qualities a man brings.”

  Leo steps back and claps his hands together. “So what are you looking for?”

  “I’m having a party and wanted to get her a shirt with a funny phrase on it. A friend told me you sell those here.” She turns her head, her gaze taking in the store.

  “I have some right over here. My buddy Jagger helped me make some up. Not everyone likes the crass ones, but I think you might appreciate them.” He winds his way through the store to the back section that has some less frou-frou items displayed—wool coats, plaids instead of pink, leather instead of feathers.

  “Definitely. I like my parties and so does Daisy.” She follows behind him and I’m sure she’s checking out his ass. Lord knows I have.

  “This is the place for you then.”

  For the rest of the day, I watch as Leo deals with his customers and for a man who comes across cold, he sure turns on the charm with his clients. It’s obvious that most of his clientele is smitten with him, but he doesn’t care for when they touch him. Whether it’s a purposeful swipe down his arm, or a casual touch on his hand, he always slides it away. I guess that’s part and parcel of preferring a man’s touch.

  Right as he’s about to close up for the day, I’m packing up my notebook when a sudden, intense pain hits my ankle.

  “Ouch!” I scream and look down at a little Chihuahua growling at me.

  “What?” Leo heads over.

  “I’m so sor
ry.” A man comes over, picking up the little runt.

  I pull my pant leg up to get a look at my ankle and, sure enough, there’s blood. I may be a bit of a drama queen sometimes, but this hurts like a son of a bitch.

  “Here.” Leo picks me up and props me up on the counter. His hands slide down my legs, twisting the ankle around to inspect what happened.

  It’s the first time he’s put his hands on me and suddenly, my ankle doesn’t hurt so much anymore. I’m too distracted by the warm sensation left behind where his hands were.

  “Teegan?” Leo’s staring up at me, and the dog’s owner is looking at me too.

  Shit, I’m pretty sure he must’ve asked me something while my mind was off on fantasy island.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, you think we should take you to the hospital?” Leo asks and then turns to look at the customer. “Gray, Zeus is all caught up on his shots, right?”

  The man nods a few times and I think he might have tears in his eyes. “He is. I’ll drop the paperwork off to you tomorrow to prove it.”

  “How does it look?” I ask.

  Leo moves my pants out of the way and twists my ankle again. “Not that bad, but I’d like to take you to the hospital as a precaution.”

  I sigh and hop down from the counter, limping as I gather my belongings. “All right.” I swing my bag over my shoulder, pulling my keys out from inside.

  “You can’t drive yourself,” Zeus’ keeper says.

  “Yes, I can. It’s my left foot. I drive with my right.”

  Even though there’s nothing funny about this situation, Leo seems like he’s about to break into laughter as he watches me muddle through the store to my car. I’m almost to the front door when he says, “Don’t forget your car is in the back.”

  I press my lips together and spin around on my good foot. “I know. I was just checking traffic.” I round the display and head backwards, with a small limp.

  “Sit down, Teegan,” Leo directs.

  Has this man not figured out that I don’t take orders well?

  “I really am sorry,” the man says again, looking worried.

  “It’s okay, Gray. Zeus probably just couldn’t keep his mouth off her legs.” Leo elbows Gray and they laugh.

  “They are delectable.” Gray casts his gaze down my body.

  “Is this actually happening right now?” I mumble to myself.

  Gray nudges Leo on the arm. “Go save her with those strong biceps of yours.”

  Leo shakes his head and then bends down in front of me, hoisting me over his shoulder. I yelp and my hand flies back to make sure I’m not giving a show to Gray and that prick of a dog, Zeus.

  “Oh, sweetie, don’t you worry, he’s immune to your lady parts.” He kisses Zeus’ head. “Leo, make sure you bill me for the medical expenses. And I’ll get a record of Zeus’ shots over first thing in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Gray.” Leo sets me on the counter. “Stay.”

  “I feel terrible,” Gray says. “I don’t know why Zeus would do that, but Leo here has a heart of gold and he’ll take good care of you without taking advantage.” He’s serious and seems sincere and since suing one of Leo’s customers is not going to get me this job, I give him a small smile.

  Gray gives me another concerned look and exits the shop with his killer dog, Leo locking up behind them.

  “I can take care of myself,” I huff out.

  “Just stay there for a minute,” he bites out.

  “Will you give me a treat if I do?” I ask in a saccharine voice.

  He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Depends what kind of a treat you’d like.”

  “I’m not a dog, Leo.”

  “Then stop acting like a bitch and let me take you to the hospital.”

  I cross my arms and a long sigh rumbles out of my throat. Loud enough so he can hear how displeased I am about him referring to me as a female dog.

  “Let’s go.” He picks me up and again and I dangle over his shoulder, his ass in my face.

  It’s a really nice ass and though my hands twitch with the urge to grab it, I resist.

  Leo may be sex on a stick, but he’s not the man for me. Hell, what am I saying? He’s not the man for any female. It’s true that the good ones are either all taken or gay.

  4

  Leo

  Out of all the things that could happen, a pint-sized Chihuahua named Zeus bites her. I shake my head to myself as I pull into the hospital emergency drop-off area.

  “Wait here,” I say, exiting the car. I grab a nurse and wheelchair and head back out to the car.

  “This is so unnecessary,” Teegan says when I open her door.

  “Would you rather me carry you?” I inch the wheelchair toward her.

  She says nothing—and even knowing her as little as I do, I know this is a great feat for her—and hobbles out of my truck and into the wheelchair.

  “I’m going to park and then I’ll be in,” I inform the nurse.

  “No, no. You go. I’m fine.” Teegan grips the arms of the wheelchair.

  I understand women’s lib and all that, but it’s frustrating how independent she’s trying to be right now. Completely disregarding her, I look back to the nurse. “She’s ornery and crabby. I’ll be there in a few minutes. You’ll understand when I take my time to stop for a coffee.”

  The nurse laughs. “Oh, you’re a funny one,” she says to me then turns her attention to Teegan. “Boyfriend?” She spins Teegan around toward the entrance of the hospital.

  “No,” Teegan bites out.

  “Then he’s available? Yummy.” She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder, catching another look at me.

  I climb into my Bronco, round the bend of the ER drive, and find a parking spot. I’m halfway to the door when my phone dings with a text from Jagger.

  Shit, I forgot about drinks.

  Me: Sorry, I’m out. New PR girl got bit.

  Jagger: You really gotta stop that. Do you know how many germs the human mouth contains?

  Me: Funny jackass. By a dog and now I’m at the ER, praying she doesn’t sue me.

  Jagger: She won’t. She wants the job.

  Me: Crossing my fingers.

  Jagger: I’m good with negotiations. Want me to head over?

  Me: Nah. I’ve got it.

  The last thing I need is foul-mouthed, opinionated Jagger to make things worse.

  Jagger: I get it. You’re worried about competition.

  Me: Fuck off.

  Jagger: Not likely. :P

  I slide the phone back in my pocket and spot Teegan in the waiting room. Her head is buried in her phone as the room buzzes with activity. The room resembles rush-hour L.A. traffic and I imagine we’ll be here until after dinner, so I lean against the wall at her side.

  She doesn’t look up from her phone. “You don’t have to stay. I called my friend.”

  “That’s fine, but I’m staying.”

  She glances up at me with a tired look on her face. “If you’re worried I’m going to sue you or your customer, don’t. I’m not that hard up for cash.”

  “I’m here to make sure you get taken care of. That’s all.” My mom raised me to be a gentleman and there’s no way I’d just drop Teegan here and run. Especially not when I feel responsible in a roundabout way.

  “Fine. Suit yourself, but we’ll be here for a long time. It’s a zoo.”

  “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

  “That’s not saying much about your life.”

  I give her a blank expression that says I’m bored with her personal digs and her lips turn up into a smile—a smile that transforms her entire face into a gentle, soft expression. You’d never guess she’s got a mouth on her.

  “Teegan Lowery,” a nurse calls out.

  “Well, that was fast.” I push her toward the nurse. “So much for your assumptions.”

  “Don’t jinx us. We still have to see the doctor.” She uses her hands to propel herself forward and I’m left
hanging back.

  Letting a frustrated sigh escape, I follow behind. “You’re pretty good with the wheelchair,” I say once I catch up to her and the nurse in the room.

  The nurse busies herself taking Teegan’s blood pressure and pulse and asking what happened.

  “She was bit by a dog on the ankle.”

  Teegan shoots me a dirty look. “I can speak for myself, thanks.”

  “You shouldn’t talk while having your blood pressure taken.” I eye the inflated cuff on her arm.

  She huffs and stares off in the other direction.

  “He’s right,” the nurse whispers and then glances back to me with a flirtatious smile.

  I smile smugly over to Teegan and cross my arms over my chest.

  “Your blood pressure is a little high. We’ll take it again before you leave.” The nurse walks over to the computer and types something into it.

  “From what I can tell she runs hot,” I say.

  Teegan huffs again.

  “Just trying to give the medical staff as much information as possible. I’d hate for them to miss something.”

  “He’s not family. Can I make him leave?” Teegan speaks directly to the nurse.

  The young nurse looks at her, to me, and back to her. “If you really want him to leave, we can have him wait in the waiting area.” She fiddles with the stethoscope around her neck.

  “You’re really going to make this nurse who is just trying to do her job kick me out?” I lean back in the chair, making it clear I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know why, but it’s important to me to make sure that Teegan is okay.

  A long breath leaves her lips and she rolls her eyes. “How long for the doctor?” she asks.

  I mentally fist-pump at winning the fight to stay in the room.

  The nurse lifts Teegan’s pant leg to inspect the bite and I focus on the smoothness of her skin. It’s obvious she doesn’t spend as much time outdoors as I do. Her skin is a creamy peach color and for a second the thought of those legs sliding around my tanned torso as I drill inside of her takes over my mind. I wonder if she’s as bossy in bed as she is out of it?