A Groom of One's Own (Appies, #3)

by Emma St. Clair

you hoping to adopt a dog?” Dr. Evie asks Eli. Eli seems to shrink away from Dr. Evil’s attention. The expression on his face returns to the lost look he wore when asking for a dog in need of a hug. He drops his gaze to Doris. “I, um …” I clear my throat, which feels slightly raw from all the cough-trauma. “Eli was actually interested in our volunteer program,” I say, hoping he’ll play along. “You want to volunteer?” Dr. Evie asks him with an arch of her brow. “Yes,” Eli says quickly. “The Appies do a lot of volunteer work, and I was interested in …” His gaze meets mine, and it’s strange how we suddenly seem able to speak soundlessly from across the room. “Walking dogs a few times a month,” I say. “I was just about to get the volunteer application. To, um, keep things official. As we do.” “Well, then—why don’t you scurry along and get it?” Dr. Evie says, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. I may have covered for Eli—and myself—with the volunteer lie. But now I’m going to have to leave Eli alone with her. I shoot him an apologetic look, but his expression is still carefully void of emotion. Thankfully, I know exactly where the volunteer applications are, and I’m back in record time. Not a moment too soon, either. Doris is practically burrowing her face into Eli’s armpit, and Dr. Evil looks about ready to toss the dog out of the way to pounce on her prey. She has one hand, with its French-tipped nails—far too pretty for someone in a hands-on job like hers—on Eli’s arm. He...