Front Cover

Also by Lucy Gilmore

Ruff and Tumble

Forever Home

Puppy Love

Puppy Christmas

Puppy Kisses

Title Page

Thank you for downloading this Sourcebooks eBook!

You are just one click away from…

• Being the first to hear about author happenings

• VIP deals and steals

• Exclusive giveaways

• Free bonus content

• Early access to interactive activities

• Sneak peeks at our newest titles

Happy reading!

CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP

Books. Change. Lives.

Copyright

Copyright © 2021 by Lucy Gilmore

Cover and internal design © 2021 by Sourcebooks

Cover illustration and design by Leni Kauffman

Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks

P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

(630) 961-3900

sourcebooks.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Gilmore, Lucy, author.

Title: I hate you more / Lucy Gilmore.

Description: Naperville, Illinois : Sourcebooks Casablanca, [2021] | Summary: “Ruby Taylor thought her days of high-stakes competition were over, until she joins the dog show circuit to get lazy golden retriever Wheezy into shape...and falls head over heels for a handsome veterinarian who won’t stop getting under her skin”-- Provided by publisher.

Identifiers: LCCN 2021015755 (print) | LCCN 2021015756 (ebook) |

Subjects: GSAFD: Love stories.

Classification: LCC PS3607.I45258 I3 2021 (print) | LCC PS3607.I45258 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6--dc23

Contents

Front Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Epilogue

Excerpt from Puppy Love

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

About the Author

Back Cover

Chapter 1

“That is, without question, the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

Ruby gave a start of surprise at the unexpected voice so close behind her and jerked the leash in her hand. Predictably, the dog on the other end—a poodle shaved and trimmed into a series of white puffs like a Q-tip—didn’t move. Ruby had been holding on to her for over five minutes, and she had yet to see the dog do anything but blink. Her owner had commanded her to stay, so stay was what she intended to do.

“I shouldn’t say that,” the voice continued in a low, flirtatious rumble. Its owner, a tall, well-built stranger with shoulders like a linebacker, smiled as he stepped close. “I’m not supposed to play favorites, but you’ve obviously put a lot of time and effort into this dog. What’s his name?”

“Her,” she said. “It’s a girl dog.”

“Well, she’s got something special, that’s for sure.” The man extended a hand, his eyes smiling down into hers. They were gorgeous eyes, so dark they were almost black and ringed with the kind of long, curling eyelashes that Ruby had regularly pasted on when she was kid. “I’m Spencer Wilson, by the way. In case you can’t tell, I’m one of the judges.”

In studded jeans and a faded T-shirt that stretched a little too tight for Ruby’s tastes, he didn’t look like much of a dog-show judge, but she knew better than to be deceived by appearances.

“Ruby,” she said, shaking his hand. “Ruby Taylor. Only there’s been a mistake. I’m not—”

At the sound of her voice, the only other dog in the room sent up a howl of dismay. They were in a hallway of sorts, waiting to submit their entry to the West Coast Canine Classic, and the golden retriever wasn’t happy with the delay. He wasn’t happy about anything, especially the fact that Ruby was giving all her attention to the perfectly poised poodle that had been left in her care. The poodle’s owner had forgotten some papers in the car and dashed out to grab them, begging Ruby to keep an eye on her precious darling in the meantime.

Unfortunately, Wheezy wasn’t a dog who shared. Wheezy wasn’t a dog who did much of anything except make Ruby’s life difficult.

“Yikes,” the man—Spencer—said as he took in Ruby’s actual charge. It didn’t help that Wheezy had met with an accident on the way in, which mostly involved the discovery of a mud puddle and a determined effort to reach the bottom of it. “What happened to him?”

“It rained this morning,” Ruby said, feeling defensive. Okay, so Wheezy didn’t look his best right now, but the competition hadn’t technically started. They were just here to drop off their paperwork and pay the entrance fee. There were still a good two months until the actual dog show. “There are puddles all over the parking lot.”

“And yet you managed to get your dog inside without falling into any.” Spencer grinned at her. It was a good grin, the kind that started in his eyes and crinkled into laugh lines around his mouth, but something about it felt off. Probably because the man was mocking poor Wheezy before they’d even managed to get a foot in the door. That didn’t seem like very professional dog-show-judge behavior to her. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how many of these we get every year.”

“How many whats you get?” Ruby asked, suspicious.

He heaved a mock sigh. “Everyone with a beloved family pet seems to think they can just roll up here and enter the show. No training, no grooming, no pedigree… I mean, come on. Would you bring an animal like that to the most prestigious dog show on this side of the country? To compete against a gorgeous girl like this one?”

Spencer placed a reverential hand on the poodle’s head, but his gaze wasn’t focused on the dog. Instead, his wide, obvious smile took Ruby in from top to bottom.

She pretended not to understand him.

“He’s not that bad,” she said with a nod at Wheezy, who’d given up howling to scratch at an itch on his neck. Enthusiastic flecks of mud splattered all over the white linoleum. “A little rough around the edges, maybe, but he has something this poodle doesn’t.”

“Fleas?” Spencer suggested with a laugh.

Ruby wasn’t impressed. “I was thinking more along the lines of personality.”

To be fair, the man wasn’t entirely wrong. Wheezy—a golden retriever of questionable parentage, zero formal training, and the personality of a slug—was the last animal on earth who should be entering any dog show, let alone the West Coast Canine Classic.

Yet here they were, doing it anyway.

“Why, dear—don’t you think you can help Wheezy win?” Wheezy’s owner had asked. Mrs. Orson, who weighed all of a hundred pounds soaking wet, had been in bed at the time, which was Ruby’s excuse for giving in so easily. Mrs. Orson always looked her frailest while she was lying down. And she knew it, too, the old sneak. Of all the residents at the retirement community where Ruby worked as a nursing assistant, Mrs. Orson was the wiliest. “I was so sure you could manage, with all your experience in pageants… No matter. It’s only a dying woman’s last wish. I’ll ask Harry if he can do this one small thing for me instead.”

Harry, who’d never set foot on a pageant stage in his life. Harry, who’d once thrown Mrs. Dewan’s Maltese into the community pool after Ruby had spent two painstaking hours combing the tangles out of its hair. Harry, who’d gladly let Ruby do every bit of work around the retirement community and then proceed to take credit for it.

If Ruby had stopped to think for five seconds, she’d have seen Mrs. Orson’s tactics for what they were. The older woman had been threatening to die for as long as Ruby had known her and always rallied the moment she got her way. But Ruby, with her pride on the line and the image of Harry Gunderson in her stead, had ruffled up, hotly defended her ability to claim any crown no matter the odds, and accepted the task set before her: to bring home a dog-show trophy for the world’s most useless animal.

In theory, putting Ruby in charge of a golden retriever’s show-dog debut was a sound plan. For the first eighteen years of her life, she’d been a show dog herself. Okay, she’d technically been a show human, but the idea was the same. She’d been primped and curled and trained to jump through the right hoops. She’d spent hours every day on grooming and deportment. She’d gazed longingly out the window at the other children chasing balls and going for walks.

She’d won, too. Her childhood bedroom—untouched by time or her mother’s hands—was a testament to all she’d once been and would ever be. The walls were lined with obscenely large tiaras, stacked and organized by size and weight. Should the Big Quake ever hit Seattle and raze it to the ground, no one standing inside that room would survive. They’d be buried under a mountain of Ruby’s gilded—and wasted—potential.

“Where’s his owner, anyway?” Spencer asked with a glance at his watch. “It’s past ten. The show’s probably closed to new entries by now.”

“Probably?” Ruby echoed. “Shouldn’t you know? I thought you were one of the judges.”

“I am,” Spencer was quick to say—almost too quick, if you asked her. “Which is why you’re in luck. For the small price of dinner with me, I’d be willing to fudge the time stamp in your favor.”

Every part of Ruby recoiled. Like most women who’d grown up on the stage, she was well aware of the image she presented to the world. Her hair was a tangle of golden-blond curls that she tamed into submission every morning, her eyes a rich brown that she made the most of with carefully winged eyeliner. Add her mother’s fantastic bone structure and years of good skin care into the bargain, and Ruby had all the traditional Eurocentric beauty standards checked.

None of that made interactions like these more palatable. Getting chatted up by strangers was nothing new, but she didn’t take well to such heavy-handed tactics. It was nice when a man at least pretended to be attracted to her personality first.

Before she could tell Spencer what she thought of his methods, the poodle’s owner appeared in the doorway, breathless but holding the requisite forms. As Ruby knew from the stack in her own bag, there were a lot of them. You could buy a house with less.

“Thank goodness,” the woman said. “I hope I’m not too late. Muffin would be devastated to miss the deadline.”

Muffin looked as though she’d never suffered a disappointment in her life, much less a devastation, but the poodle sniffed happily as her owner drew near.

“Muffin?” Spencer asked with a laugh. “Did you name him that because he ate too many of them?”

Ruby stiffened. While there was no denying the golden retriever was somewhat…portly, she didn’t appreciate jokes being made at Wheezy’s expense. It was hardly his fault that he was carrying a few extra pounds around the middle. Life as the pampered darling of a dozen elderly ladies would do that to a dog.

“Oh dear.” The woman took the leash from Ruby’s hand and cast an anxious eye over her poodle. “Do you think she’s put on too much weight? We switched to organic chicken breast recently, but I didn’t think—”

“Wait.” Spencer reared back with a start. He glanced back and forth between the two women and then the two dogs, confusion lowering his brow. “This poodle belongs to you?”

“We’ve been looking forward to this all year, haven’t we, Muffin?” the woman cooed. She swelled with maternal pride. “Muffin comes from a long line of show dogs. Her mother took Best of Breed at the National Dog Show three years ago.”

“Come, Wheezy,” Ruby said, hoping to put Spencer in his place. It didn’t work. Wheezy showed as little interest in her as he did the air around him. He heaved a sigh and dropped to his belly instead.

“We’re still working on that one,” she explained. They were still working on all of them, but she wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

The poodle owner spoke up. “We’re not too late to enter, are we? We were both here in plenty of time, I promise. It was only that I left the silly papers in the car, and this woman very nicely offered to wait for me before heading in.”

“Weren’t you just saying you’d be willing to change the time stamp for me?” Ruby asked, sensing an opportunity. “It’s only fair that you’d offer the same to my friend and her poodle.”

Hope lit Spencer’s eyes. “Does that mean you’ll go out with me?”

“Of course not. But I’m sure the AKC would love to hear about how you use dog-show extortion to trap women into dating you.”

For the longest moment, Ruby was afraid she’d pushed too far. It was obvious that this Spencer guy was used to getting his way—and even more obvious that he felt no remorse at breaking the rules to do it—but she’d stopped using her physical charms to win pageant judges’ approval years ago.

Ten years ago, in fact. And she wasn’t about to change that now.

With a good-natured laugh, Spencer threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. You win. I can’t resist a gorgeous woman making threats. Welcome, both of you, to the West Coast Canine Classic.”

The poodle owner let out a long, relieved sigh, but Ruby wasn’t buying it. “Don’t you need to look over our applications first?”

“Caleb!” A sharp male voice interrupted before the man could answer. “What are you doing here?”

Ruby turned to find herself facing another version of Spencer. A literal version of Spencer that made her swivel her head in a double take. Instead of facing one finely sculpted paragon of masculinity with eyelashes painted by the hands of a master, she was facing two of them. The newcomer was built just as powerfully as the first, but he was dressed more formally in a button-down shirt and well-pressed slacks. He wore his dark hair neater and cropped closer to the head, and his movements were more rigidly controlled, but they were otherwise as identical as, well, twins.

“Spencer!” Spencer said—only…wait. That couldn’t be right. “Just the man to help us out of this fix.”

The newcomer strode forward, his mouth set in a firm line. “Caleb, I don’t know what you’re doing or how you got here, but you need to get home.” He glanced at a clock on the wall and added, “Now.”

“Don’t worry,” the man said. “I have a half hour until the next bus comes, so I thought I’d pop in and see how things are going.”

By this time, the poodle owner looked as perplexed as Ruby felt. “I’m sorry…” She glanced back and forth between the two men. “Which one of you should I turn the application in to? Muffin and I are anxious to get everything squared away.”

Muffin didn’t look the least bit anxious, but Wheezy was starting to show serious signs of something. He strained and pulled in an attempt to get closer to the newcomer, a low whine escaping his lips. In all the time Ruby had known this dog, she’d only ever seen him this animated about pork products.

“To neither of us, I’m afraid,” the newcomer said. He stabbed a finger at the wall. “The entry cutoff was at ten. You missed it.”

At this, Wheezy let out a bark of protest. Ruby wasn’t slow to follow. “But this man—Spencer, Caleb, whatever—said we could still enter.”

“I’m Spencer,” the newcomer said. “And I’m in charge of the dog show. I don’t know what my brother told you, but rules are rules.”

Wheezy showed exactly what he thought about that. With a yelp, he flung himself at the real Spencer and did his best imitation of a dog who’d never known the comfort of a human’s touch. To his credit, Spencer immediately squatted down to Wheezy’s level and extended a calming hand. Instead of accepting it, Wheezy began enthusiastically licking the man’s face.

“I don’t understand,” the poodle owner said.

Ruby did. She cast a sideways look at the first brother—Caleb—at which he promptly winked. “Can you blame me?” he asked, laughing. “I’d have lied and pretended to be Prince Harry if it meant I’d get a chance to talk to you.”

“Prince Harry would never do anything so underhanded,” Ruby retorted. “Prince Harry is a gentleman.”

By now, the rest of the party had caught up on the lie. The poodle owner looked flustered, Caleb looked amused, and Spencer looked extremely displeased.

Ruby could hardly blame him for it. She was leaning that way herself.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Ruby said, forcing her irritation down. “My name is Ruby Taylor. I’m here to enter this golden retriever in the dog show.” She turned to Spencer. “And you must be the real judge. Where would you like us to drop off the forms?”

Instead of softening the man, her comment seemed to increase his displeasure. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to enter.” He glanced at the poodle owner with a touch of actual regret. “It sounds harsh, I know, but we have to stick to strict guidelines. In the name of fairness.”

At that, Ruby’s competitive instincts sat up and took notice. It seemed this new Spencer wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as the first.

“If it’s fairness we’re talking about, then you should let both these dogs in,” she said. “Your brother already said we could enter. It’s only right that you honor his promise.”

“But Caleb isn’t—” Spencer drew a deep breath and tried again. “Despite what he may have told you, my brother doesn’t have anything to do with the show. Not officially. He’s a dog trainer, not a judge.”

“And yet promises were made. How are this woman and I to know which of you is which? Is it our fault we were misled about your identity?”

“It’s not—” Spencer was cut off as Caleb released a low chuckle.

“I think you should give in,” Caleb said. “I already tried to get the better of her, and it didn’t work.”

A spark of something combative flashed in Spencer’s eyes. All at once, Ruby was struck with how much better that spark suited those long lashes than Caleb’s insouciance. Eyes like that were meant to be taken seriously. Eyes like that were meant to carry fire.

“Fine.” Spencer stood up and took a step back. “Show him to me.”

“Um…” Ruby waved her hand in Wheezy’s general direction. “He’s right there.”

“No, I mean show him. Put him through his paces. Let me see what he can do.”

Ruby hesitated as she ran through her list of options. It wasn’t a long one. Wheezy’s skills included very little outside of eating and napping. Putting him in the spotlight—and with that dratted poodle looking on—wasn’t going to end well for any of them.

Except maybe the poodle.

“Wheezy, sit,” she said.

Wheezy didn’t sit.

She went for an easier one. “Wheezy, stay.”

In a move of pure perversity, the golden retriever started wandering down the hallway. A sound halfway between a laugh and a snort escaped Spencer’s mouth. That did more to set Ruby’s hackles up than all the rest combined. No man laugh-snorted at her and got away with it. At least, not unless she wanted him to.

“Wheezy, you stubborn beast, make us both look like fools,” she said.

This time, Wheezy happily complied. Discovering a half-open garbage can, he got up on his hind legs and started to explore its contents.

“Oh, for the love of Pete.” Ruby took off after the dog. She grabbed hold of his collar and tugged, but it was no use. It took a lot to get Wheezy animated, but once you did, he was a force to be reckoned with. Wheezy had discovered something delicious inside the garbage and had every intention of digging his way through until he found it.

To her surprise, a solid male form came up behind her. She didn’t need to look to know it was Spencer. The ease with which he extracted the golden retriever from the garbage can was clear proof of that.

“You can’t seriously plan to enter this dog in the West Coast Canine Classic,” he said. The hand he laid on Wheezy’s head was gentle even as he squared off against Ruby.

“Oh, I don’t,” Ruby replied, turning to meet him head on.

Relief started to touch Spencer’s lips, but Ruby stopped it short. “Wheezy isn’t just going to enter the dog show. He’s going to win. Can’t you tell a pedigree champion when you’re looking at one?”

Apparently, he could. “This dog is overweight.”

“Don’t be rude. Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes.”

“He isn’t properly trained.”

“That’s not true,” Ruby protested. “He knows all the commands. He just doesn’t always feel like listening to them.”

“He doesn’t look like a purebred.”

The Story Continues on BooksBarbecue!

Enjoyed this preview? ❤️ Do not stop here!

Read the complete book free online → 🔗

Continue reading now on BooksBarbecue and discover every page!

Love reading? Bookmark BooksBarbecue.com for more amazing books!

Happy Reading!