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surprise, Henry and Kenzie chose the spot to the right of us.
    “Yesterday, you taught your dog how to sit.” Abby’s voice rang out enthusiastically, her facial expressions animated. “Today, you’re going to teach him or her to stay, and only to come when you ask. Let me demonstrate.”
    She asked for a volunteer and a young guy with a bulldog offered right away. Probably had a crush on her, too. Admittedly, Abby was gorgeous—if you were into physical perfection, that is.
    But was she organized? Because a man would be hard-pressed to find a woman more organized than me. I mean, my checking account is balanced to the penny, my glass shower door never has a streak, and my unmatched sock basket is practically non-existent (no, I won’t toss the loner socks because their mates will surely turn up the day after I do).
    Any chance Henry considers Type-A to be the new sexy? Could be possible . . .
    As Abby waxed poetic about well-mannered pooches, I leaned toward Henry, determined to get to the bottom of his mysterious nocturnal activities. “Abby looks exceptionally pretty today. Don’t you think?”
    He looked uncomfortable at the question. “I guess.”
    Okay, that confirmed nothing about his night. Or, maybe it did. If they’d hooked up, he would have agreed a bit more enthusiastically. Right? The curiosity was killing me. “She seems very nice, too.”
    My stomach tightened as I braced for his answer because I only needed to know if he was into her, not any of the details.
    “She does.” He continued to watch Abby as she made the bulldog stay with a flat hand signal. “Although, this is my first dog obedience class so I don’t really have another instructor to compare her to.”
    The knot in my belly loosened. It was unlikely he’d talk that distantly about her if they’d been up all night doing, well, everything I’d fantasized doing with Henry if I had him all to myself.
    Slightly mollified, I stole another glance at the circles under Henry’s eyes. They hadn’t been there yesterday. Believe me, I’d studied every detail of his beautiful face and had gone over it a thousand times in my mind. The stubble hadn’t been there either. What had he been doing that he couldn’t shave or change his clothes? And that, in his own words, was intense?
    Everyone around me suddenly started moving. Apparently Abby had instructed us to do something. I’d been paying zero attention, so I mimicked what other people were doing by commanding Chester to “sit” and then holding my hand up horizontally and telling him to “stay.”
    It was an honest miracle that the mutt obeyed. For about two seconds anyway. Then he turned his head to the side, and started whining.
    I stared at the pedigree pup, wondering what his problem was. Oh, great. He’d better not have to use the restroom. I’d seen the blue plastic bags attached to the handle of his leash, but I’d been hoping I’d never have to use them. “What, boy?”
    He whined some more and then barked at me.
    I cringed. Half an hour with the miniature male and already I wasn’t meeting his needs. If he weren’t attached to my leash, he’d probably ditch me. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
    “He’s waiting for a treat.” Henry sounded amused as he broke a brown, bone-shaped biscuit in half and held it out for me between his fingertips. “Here . . .”
    When had they handed out dog treats? Oh, right. While I’d been tormenting myself on Henry’s whereabouts last night even though we were clearly not compatible. I mean, how many questions do I have to ask before the guy indicates if he’s single or not? Not that it mattered since I had a date scheduled with a compatible man who, I might add, is up front about who he is and not dark and mysterious, with unforgettable dark pooled eyes . . .
    “Thanks.” I coached myself not to ask outright what he’d been doing all night long (without me) because it might show I was interested and how would that