“I wouldn’t know,” Sebastian offers with a flex of his own.

I clear my throat. “Shedding aside, I love these guys though. Even if they kill my budget with special food, vacuums, chair legs . . . ugh.” I roll my eyes dramatically—for Chunky and Jessie, my imaginary Irish-Retriever.

Sebastian’s eyebrows lift, and I see he caught scent of the bait I just laid out. “Chair legs, huh? You know, I offer obedience lessons. I could help you out on that.”

“Could you?” Zoey asks, smiling hopefully as though Sebastian were her savior. I know she’s playing her part too, but that doesn’t stop the growl from trying to rumble in my chest. Especially when she adds, “I mean, last week, Jessie got ahold of my favorite bra, and . . . well, you know.”

Sebastian laughs, his eyes flittering to Zoey’s chest naturally before coming back to her eyes faster than a single man normally would. “I understand.”

“Is it a breed thing?” I ask. “For Irish Retrievers? You know, did the other owner, I dunno, get things eaten?”

Sebastian laughs. “No, nothing like that.”

I nod, seeing the opening but knowing it’s not quite big enough yet. “Well, if you’ve got a card or something, man, I’d love to check my schedule at home, see if we can set something up?”

Sebastian’s quick to his pocket, pulling out his wallet and a business card and offering it to me. “Here you go. Email’s best, but that’s just so if I’m with a client, I don’t forget to call back.”

“Thanks,” I tell him, tucking the card in my pocket. “Well, we should get going. Chunkster!”

Chunky comes bounding over, nearly taking me to the ground again, but I manage to clip his leash on. I wave to Sebastian, but he’s already scanning for his next potential clients.

Zoey keeps her cool until we’re at the gate and leaving before elbowing me in the ribs. “What the hell was that?”

I grin, knowing this is one area where my experience far outstrips hers. “Long game. If we’d asked more about Yvette, he would have gotten his guard up. It’s why I kept it to the dog. Now we can find out more about him, and maybe Yvette.”

Zoey thinks, then nods at my logic. “So . . . like a sale.”

“Just like a sale. Some are fast, some are slow, but you take whatever time’s needed.”

Zoey gives me that single eyebrow lift that says she knows what I’m up to. She knows I’m talking about two things at once again. “Smart man.”