Luxe Glamour (The Glamour Series Book 5) by Maggie Marr Page A

purpose. I might not like dogs, because I was scared of them, but I wasn’t a sociopath. I didn’t torture puppies or hurt cats. When I was a kid, I’d cried when my goldfish died. “So there’s something other than hitting Drummond? What did I ever do to your sister?” 
    Trick lifted his shoulder and tilted his head. 
    “You used the ‘C’ word.”
    “C word? I don’t ever use the C word.”
    “Not that C word.” Trick took a couple steps closer and my gaze went from him to the dog still lying at his feet. “Don’t worry, Austin won’t jump at you again.”
    Trick was closer now. Close enough for me to see the scruff on his face, close enough to feel the heat pulsing off his skin, close enough for me to smell his outdoorsy scent, close enough to see the fine golden hairs on his forearms and wonder if there was a trail the same color that led down his abs to his—
    “You called Angie a cripple .” Trick interrupted my thoughts of running my hands over his chest and abs.
    My gaze jerked from his T-shirt to meet his eyes. “What? When?”
    “You don’t remember? Wow. You must have been a complete mess at the fundraiser.”
    Cripple? I’d called Angie a cripple? My mind raced through the memories of that day at the Pawtown Fundraiser. Telling Ellen she couldn’t adopt her dog—which she’d adopted anyway. Trying to take the mongrel back to the adoption table. Threatening to move out of the condo. Racing away toward the car …
    Oh, no. I pressed my fingertips to my mouth. My gaze met Trick’s. Heat flamed up my neck and into my cheeks. “I did say that.”
    “Yeah, Angie wouldn’t get that one wrong.”
    “I was mad about Ellen and the dog she wanted to adopt and I told her to take the puppy back to the …” My words drifted away. I wouldn’t say it again. My heart tightened. I was horrified.
    “I’m so, so sorry.”
    “I’m not the one in the wheelchair,” Trick said. His tone held an edge. “There’s someone else you need to apologize to.”
    Damn. Not what I wanted to do. Apologies weren’t really my thing and especially not to women who disliked me. Trick was right. If I ever wanted to get off poop-scoop duty I had to apologize. Plus, even I knew it was the right thing to do.
    Trick backed away from me and gathered the extra length of leash around his hand. “I’ll let you get back to it.” 
    I nodded and rolled my bucket toward the door. A trickle of cold sweat dripped down my back. I pressed my hand to my forehead. Wow. I was hot. I was cold. I was …
    “Hey, Sophia? Are you okay?”
    Trick’s voice sounded so far away, as if he’d climbed into a well. I nodded and pressed my palm against the warm wall. Just a second. I just needed a second. My jaw locked. A loud ring started in my ears. The dirt, the sand, the pebbles, the sun. Were they having an earthquake? I reached out to wave to Trick, to let him know I was fine. I would be fine. I was a Legend, I would do what I had to do. Then the earth shifted and jolted beneath my feet. The next thing I knew I felt tiny pebbles biting into my hands.
     
     
    Trick
     
    “You said we should make her clean the kennels for a week.”
    “Right.” Angie rolled her chair closer to the examination table in the vet clinic. “But I didn’t know it would be this hot every day.” Her gaze traveled over Sophia. Angie might not like Sophia, but my sister had a giant soft spot in her heart for wounded things. And, I could see in the crease of Angie’s brow, and the tight line of her lips, that soft spot even included runway models who had insulted her.
    Angie rolled back from the examination table and lowered her voice. “I don’t think she’s eaten since she arrived. At least that’s what Thelma tells me. Her plates keep coming back full of food. Unless she’s got a secret stash of power bars in the volunteer bungalow, then she’s not eating.” Angie sighed and turned her chair back toward the Pawtown vet who had her stethoscope