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Baby, Hold On

Page 6

by Stephanie Bond


  “One more stop,” she told Sheridan, then led him to the clinic where she had an appointment to get a tetanus booster. Secured to the dog railing outside was Nigel, Rachel Hutchins’s pug. Lacey greeted the dog heartily, who offered his paw. Two young towheaded boys she recognized as the Tyler twins walked up with their mother and asked if the dogs were friendly.

  “Yes,” Lacey said, “but it’s always good to ask first. Offer your hand to them with your fingers down and curled under, like this.” She demonstrated, and the boys followed her instructions. Nigel licked them in response, happy to receive their small-handed pats. Sheridan’s tail wagged when they petted him, although he didn’t relinquish the pink bone.

  “Can you really talk to animals?” one of the boys asked her, his eyes wide.

  “Benjamin,” his mother admonished.

  “Well, it’s what people say,” the boy insisted.

  “It’s okay,” Lacey told Mrs. Tyler with a laugh, then looked back to the boy. “All of us can communicate with animals—you’re doing it right now. You’re being kind and friendly, and animals understand that.”

  The boy’s face lit up, then their mother prompted them to say goodbye and they went on their way.

  Lacey was fastening Sheridan’s leash to the railing when a friendly voice rang out. “Hello, Lacey.”

  She looked up and smiled at Emily Armstrong, the matriarch of the Armstrong family. Emily was pretty and rounded and always had a kind word for everyone.

  “Hi, Emily. How are you?”

  “Fine, my dear, just taking Chaz for a walk.”

  The Jack Russell terrier bounded up to Sheridan and yapped happily. Sheridan dipped his head in greeting, but when the small dog tugged on the pink bone, Sheridan emitted a low growl.

  Shocked, Lacey said, “Sheridan, no.”

  Emily reined in Chaz’s leash. “Is he dangerous?”

  “No. But Chaz gave him that toy last week and he’s gotten attached to it.”

  “Perhaps we should go,” Emily said.

  Lacey nodded with remorse. “I’m sorry.”

  After the woman and her dog walked away, Lacey studied Sheridan. He glanced at the water bowl longingly, but seemed unwilling to put down the toy. Lacey lifted the water bowl to his mouth and allowed the toy to soak up enough moisture for him to draw on.

  Then a thought hit her. The toy symbolized weakness to Mike. But what if it symbolized something else to Sheridan, something more than a plaything?

  She dashed inside the clinic to reschedule her appointment, then walked back to the cabin as quickly as she could. When the cabin came into sight, she spotted Mike out front, washing his SUV. While her mind raced, her body reacted to seeing him shirtless, wearing only running shorts and sneakers. As his powerful limbs moved, his bronze skin glistened under the sun and water droplets from the spigot he held.

  He took her breath away. Before she knew it, she was jogging in his direction. She and Sheridan were still a few yards away when he noticed them. He turned off the water hose and strode toward them.

  “Is everything okay?” he called.

  “Yes,” she said, a little winded. “Can I see the footage from your last assignment again?”

  “Sure,” he said, stopping to scratch Sheridan’s neck before heading to the cabin. “But why?”

  “Just a theory,” she hedged.

  He walked up onto the porch and over to a table where his cell phone lay. “How did he behave without me?”

  “Fine.” Was it her imagination, or did he seem disappointed?

  He picked up his phone and punched in a few entries, then held it out to her. It was hard to concentrate on the footage with him standing so close to her. She watched the small screen, focusing on Sheridan. When she saw a flash of pink, she said, “Pause it.”

  He did, then asked, “What do you see?”

  “The pink article you’re offering to Sheridan—what was it?”

  He bit his lip, as if trying to recall. “That was a sweater for a little girl who was missing.”

  “How did it go?”

  “It was a difficult search—the neighborhood where the girl lived was destroyed. And then the storm blew in, but Sheridan wouldn’t stop searching.”

  “How did the search end?” She held her breath.

  “Thankfully, someone found the girl. She escaped with only a few scrapes.”

  “Someone found her—not Sheridan?”

  “Right. She had run to her grandmother’s house, ending up several streets from where we were.”

  “You said an SAR dog’s reward is when he finds what he’s looking for and gets his treat.”

  “That’s right.”

  “What happens when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for?”

  “Sometimes we plant volunteers or other handlers in the debris, just to reward the dog so he doesn’t get discouraged.”

  “And is that what happened in Missouri?”

  Again, Mike had to think. “No. The storm blew in and the conditions were so hazardous, we didn’t want to risk putting a plant in the rubble.”

  “So maybe he did get an electric jolt, and now he associates loud noises and water and the color pink—if he can even tell something’s pink-with the frustration of an unfinished mission.”

  Mike pulled on his chin. “That’s a stretch.”

  “But worth pursuing?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Take the toy from him, but this time, use it to let him find me.”

  He splayed his hands. “We have nothing to lose at this point.”

  Speak for yourself, she thought. Because she realized when she’d returned and set eyes on Mike that she was head over heels for him.

  He squinted. “You look…different.”

  Good God, was it written all over her face?

  “Did you change your hair?”

  She’d forgotten. Lacey gave a nervous laugh and lifted a hand to finger the unfamiliar sleek texture. “Yes.”

  “And your clothes?”

  She looked down at the preppy outfit. “Yes.”

  “Hmm, pity.”

  Lacey blinked.

  Then he looked at Sheridan and clapped his hands. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mike tried to listen as Lacey suggested a plan for allowing Sheridan to complete his unfinished mission. But he was so distracted by the shape of those pink lips he hadn’t yet kissed, he barely heard what she was saying.

  Besides, she’d already said the magic words take the toy from him, and that’s all he needed to hear to be on board.

  While Sheridan was napping, Mike removed the pink toy from the dog’s bed, then extended it to Lacey. “We need your scent on it.”

  She suddenly looked nervous. “How does this work?”

  “Dogs follow the scent of human skin cells that are constantly being sloughed off when we sleep or sit or walk,” he explained. “They can even detect skin cells that are expelled through the exhaust of a car a person is riding in.”

  “Amazing. What’s the best way to get my skin cells onto the toy?”

  “Allow me,” he said, then took the stuffed toy and proceeded to drag it lazily over one shapely arm, then the other. And although it wasn’t necessary, he couldn’t resist the temptation of leaning over to drag the toy down one toned leg, then up the other, ending midway up her thigh, at the hem of her skirt. The woman had a hot little body, and considering how she’d rejected his kiss that first night, this might be the closest he’d ever get to it.

  His sex hardened and he set his jaw against the lust that bolted through him. Being so close to Lacey in the tiny cabin these past several days had kept him on a slow burn, and he was ready to ignite. He stood slowly, hoping she didn’t notice his erection.

  “N-now what?” she asked, keeping her gaze above his waist, he noticed.

  “Now,” he started hoarsely, then cleared his throat. “Now you take a walk and hide somewhere out of sight so h
e can track and find you.”

  “How far?”

  “It doesn’t have to be miles, just enough to make him work for it. I’ll text you when we leave here, so you can get into place.”

  She nodded, then left the cabin.

  Mike stared at the closed door and rubbed at a sudden twinge in his chest. There it was again—the same sense of loss he’d felt when Lacey had left this morning with Sheridan. He told himself at the time he was uncomfortable handing his dog over to someone else, but he now admitted he’d grown accustomed to Lacey’s laugh and the way she seemed to bring light and softness to everything she touched.

  Sheridan would miss her when they left Sweetness.

  Twenty minutes later, his dog roused from his nap and as expected, began frantically searching for the toy Mike held behind his back.

  “Sheridan, come,” Mike said, and was relieved when the dog obeyed.

  Mike revealed the toy. “Sheridan, this is Lacey.” He held out the toy, knowing this was the test: Would the dog take it and run back to his bed, or would he go into tracking mode.

  “Sheridan, this is Lacey,” he repeated, then gave the toy a shake.

  Sheridan barked, then shoved his nose into the toy for a couple of big sniffs, and barked again.

  Mike was almost weak with relief. “Sheridan, find Lacey. Find Lacey.”

  Sheridan barked again, on full alert as he dropped his nose to the ground and began to sniff. This would be tough, Mike knew, because Lacey’s scent was all over the cabin. But the old Sheridan would keep sniffing until he found the freshest scent.

  He watched his dog, his heart pounding against his breastbone. Sheridan circled and backtracked until he stopped at the front door and barked to be let out.

  “Good boy,” Mike said. He texted Lacey the signal, then opened the door and bounded after Sheridan.

  Outside it took the dog a few seconds to pick up her scent again, but he found it and was soon trotting down the asphalt. Mike called out encouragement as he followed behind. Several hundred yards later, Sheridan veered off the road into the brush and Mike realized Lacey had walked toward Timber Creek. When they emerged from the brush onto the bank of the creek, Sheridan walked up to the water, then balked.

  Mike scanned the opposite bank, and caught a sliver of pink through a brush pile. “Sheridan, find Lacey,” he encouraged.

  The dog loped back to him and whimpered.

  “Sheridan, find Lacey,” he commanded.

  Sheridan barked, then turned and went back to the creek bank. He hesitated, then jumped into the shallow water and half walked, half swam to the other side. Mike waded in and followed, his pulse beating furiously to see his dog returning to his heroic self.

  Once Sheridan emerged on the other side, he paused only long enough to shake himself off, then found the scent again in seconds. When he found Lacey behind the brush pile, he barked excitedly. Lacey did her part, exclaiming happily and throwing her arms around him, praising him.

  Mike waited, then walked up, his chest welling with pride. “Good boy,” he said, then offered Sheridan a special treat. Sheridan took it and chomped away, his tail still wagging.

  Lacey rushed up and threw her arms around Mike’s neck. “We did it!”

  His initial surprise quickly morphed into something else as her touch brought his hormones raging to the surface. He lowered his head to claim the kiss he’d been wanting all week, keeping it PG-rated as his mouth scraped across those soft, plump lips, although his body was pushing for R. When he released her, her eyes were wide, and he felt like a heel for crossing the line.

  “Yes, we did it,” he said, pretending the kiss had been celebratory. “This is the best he’s been since Missouri.”

  Lacey angled her head. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  “But,” he added, “these are perfect conditions, and Sheridan was working alone. A real-life crisis is much more demanding and distracting. Even the training facility will be more rugged than this little test.”

  “But it’s progress.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “It’s progress.” Especially because Sheridan seemed to have forgotten about the toy. Mike wanted to throw the pink annoyance as far as he could, but he didn’t want to litter. Besides, Sheridan might perceive it as a game of fetch and then they’d be right back where they started. So instead he kept it out of sight under his T-shirt.

  The trek through the creek had stirred up the thick Georgia red clay along the bottom. When the three emerged on the other side to return to the cabin at a more leisurely pace, they all had mud and debris hanging from them. Sheridan shook himself repeatedly, but the mud had hardened his coat by the time they’d reached the yard.

  “Labs don’t need baths very often,” Lacey said, “but I think this is one of those occasions. We’ll see how he handles being immersed in water.”

  “I wouldn’t mind hosing off, myself,” Mike agreed. And considering the wayward direction of his thoughts since that kiss, the colder, the better. He’d hoped his curiosity would be sated, that there would be no spark between them.

  He was wrong.

  When they reached the cabin, there were only a couple of hours of daylight left. He found a tub in the utility room and set it in the yard next to his SUV. Lacey added pet shampoo from a grooming bag she’d brought with her, then he filled it with water from the hose. Sheridan eyed the suds warily, but Lacey coaxed him inside one leg at a time and began to brush him down while talking to him in that way of hers that seemed to cast a spell on Sheridan.

  Watching the lovely blonde, Mike knew exactly how his dog felt.

  “Want to help?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said, and with a pang, he realized he agreed not so much to be able to tend to his dog but to be near Lacey.

  She handed him a brush and he got on the other side of the tub, plunging his hands into the slippery water, still warm from the hose having lain in the sun. He concentrated on cleaning the fur on his side, but didn’t mind when his hands encountered Lacey’s under the water. Between the humidity, the creek and the splashing dog bath, her hair had sprung back into corkscrew curls. Her green eyes were radiant in the fading glow of the sun, framed with a dark fringe of lashes. And that mouth…

  He wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was. His body hardened at the thought of her pressed up against him, this time naked. Now that Sheridan was on the mend, Mike felt relaxed enough to tend to other parts of his life he’d neglected. He wouldn’t mind having a fling with the pretty woman for the remainder of the time he’d be in Sweetness.

  But would Lacey be willing? There didn’t seem to be a boyfriend in the picture—she’d even said she was a loner.

  Cute, hot and available. Perfect fling material. His sex hardened into a persistent reminder of how long it had been since he’d desired a woman so much.

  But some part of him hung back—he was indebted to Lacey, and he didn’t want to offend her.

  At last, Sheridan was clean. He jumped out of the tub, and neither one of them moved fast enough to avoid the shower of him shaking himself off.

  They laughed and Lacey held up her arms, completed soaked now. “Ugh, I need a shower.”

  When Mike looked over, he couldn’t speak. The water had rendered her T-shirt almost transparent, molding to her firm breasts and peaked nipples. His gentlemanly resolve snapped. He stepped closer and tipped up Lacey’s chin.

  “We could save water. Wanna share?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lacey opened her mouth, but all that came out was a squeak. Mike Nichols had just told her he wanted to get naked and soapy with her, and all she could manage was a noise that sounded more like it came from a newborn puppy than a full-grown woman.

  “Pardon me?” he murmured, his lips so close to hers, she could feel his breath.

  Her wet, tired body was going haywire, screaming yes, yes, YES! But in the space of a few seconds, reasons to say no bombarded her—she was working for Mike, after all, and the
man was only passing through town, so at most, it would be a quickie fling. And what if things went sideways? It had been so long since she’d had sex, what if she’d forgotten how?

  Lacey swallowed and tried again. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  When the fire in his eyes dimmed, regret wrapped around her chest. He pulled back and gave her a rueful smile. “You’re probably right. I thought I’d head into town for dinner, if you’d like to tag along.”

  Tag along, not join him. The man was horny…he was probably hoping to run into Julie Whelk, or any number of eligible women who’d jump at the chance to take a shower with him. Far be it from her to get between the man and his…satisfaction.

  “You go ahead. I think I’ll relax with a book.” She winced inwardly—had she really said that?

  “Suit yourself,” he said, then emptied the tub of water and strode toward the cabin.

  Lacey watched his retreating back—the man had shoulders like the mountains surrounding Sweetness—and realized her body was still tingling from his nearness. A groan sounded deep in her throat. The fact that he could make her want him without even touching her…well, it made a girl wonder what Mike Nichols could do if she gave him permission to unleash his full arsenal.

  He disappeared into the cabin and she remembered Traci’s words, telling her to go for it. Everyone in town already thought she and Mike were friendly…it was pretty sad when she was alleged to be having more fun than she actually was.

  And Mike wanted her. Hadn’t she always wished for a movie moment when a man would look into her eyes and tell her, without the benefit of alcohol and “last call,” that he wanted to have sex with her? In her fantasy script, she didn’t respond by folding like an ingenue.

  Lacey screwed up her courage and marched into the cabin. Sheridan had retreated to his bed for a nap. She walked quietly to Mike’s closed bedroom door and pressed her ear against it. His shower was running.

  Before she could change her mind, she opened the door and stepped inside his bedroom. The bathroom door was ajar and she could hear him splashing. She began peeling off her clothes so by the time she reached the shower curtain surrounding the tub, she was completely naked. She opened the curtain and had a glimpse of his big nude body before climbing inside.

 

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