“Are you going to behave?” Price’s voice was deceptively soft as he crouched down just out of reach. His blue eyes scanned your body. It wasn’t your fault you’d been a brat; you just wanted his attention, and he’d been busy. He reminded himself that good pets needed patience. He straightened, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you. “Lay down, puppy. Can’t have my good pet acting untrained.” Obedience training was in order: sit, stay, roll over, shake—all things good pets did. “You be good, and I’ll take you for a walk.”