by Cara Colter
“That bad?”
“Simon’s that bad with her. Or so I hear, but also that she’s a sweet child, all things considered.”
“I need the dog to behave, Peyton to be happy and Simon to be happy, and I didn’t even get to run with Tink this morning because the tree crew got here at the crack of dawn. I had to keep the dog locked inside so he wouldn’t get hurt while they trimmed the trees, and then I spent all afternoon spreading the mulch from the ground-up trees. I’m so sore I can hardly walk.”
“What are you doing spreading all that yourself? Let the landscaping crew do it,” Marion told her.
“I didn’t even think of it. They asked what I wanted done with the trees, and I told them they could grind them up. Then they drove away and left me with a huge pile of mulch on Simon’s spotless driveway. They said I hadn’t arranged ahead of time for a crew to spread the stuff, that the job I hired them to do was done, so it was my problem.”
“Oh, honey! All that and yelling at Simon, too? You’ve had quite a day.”
“I have,” Audrey said, feeling sorry for herself right then. “And I still have to meet Peyton and hope that everything goes well with her and the dog.”
“You need to drag yourself outside and throw a ball or something with the dog. Surely you can manage that. He could probably chase it happily for hours, and by the time Simon’s daughter gets there, the dog should be nice and tired. And then you turn the dog over to them and have a nice hot bath and go to bed. Everything will look better in the morning. It almost always does.”
Audrey said goodbye to Marion, found Tink’s favorite bouncy ball and made her way gingerly down the steps, the dog dancing with excitement beside her.
“Tink,” she said to him when they got to the backyard, “I need this to go well, okay? Peyton’s coming, and I need for you to be on your absolute best behavior while she and her father are here. Can you do that for me? Please?”
She figured she had nothing to lose by trying to explain it to him.
He cocked his head to one side, as if trying to decipher her meaning, then went back to staring at the ball, which seemed to look as good to him as a T-bone steak.
“So much for our little talk,” Audrey said, then threw the ball.
Tink raced after it, fast as could be, and was back in front of Audrey in seconds, dropping the ball at her feet.
“Good dog,” she told him, fussing over him for a moment, then throwing his ball again.
She felt sick with anticipation of having to face Simon again and not knowing what he might say or do after the way she’d yelled at him. Every muscle in her body hurt, and she hadn’t been on the job for even a week yet.
Way to go, Audrey.
Peyton arrived precisely at six o’clock by private car, hired by Simon at the insistence of his ex-wife, who didn’t care for the whole divorced-parents-exchanging-the-child scene.
Not that Simon minded.
His ex was a terrible driver, and Peyton adored Mr. Hobbs, the driver Simon used regularly with the car service. She pretended to be a princess when she rode in the back of the big, black car, and Hobbs obliged her by treating her like one.
Simon had been instructed by his daughter to wait patiently by the car door so Hobbs could open the door for her and even announce her presence, something that seemed to delight his daughter.
So, Simon stood there, waiting as the car stopped and Hobbs got out, tipping his hat to Simon and then to Peyton, as he opened the door and asked, “Will that be all, miss?”
“Yes, Hobbs. Thank you, very much.”
“Delighted, as always, miss.”
And then she ran into Simon’s arms. He lifted her off the ground and swung her around while she giggled and hung on to him, and a moment later the dog came roaring around the side of the house, barreling toward them.
Simon lowered Peyton to the ground and then held his breath, waiting for the dog to stop and sit and act as if he had some manners, which he always had where Peyton was concerned. Still, Simon held his breath every time.
She was his world, and Simon adored her, feeling as vulnerable as he supposed a man could be at the idea of her being hurt.
He glanced up and saw Audrey come around the corner, looking as anxious as he felt, while they both waited and watched. Sure enough, the silly dog slid to a stop at Peyton’s feet, sat on his rump and whipped that tail back and forth in a frenzy. But he was calm as could be otherwise, as Peyton wrapped her arms around his neck and greeted him as if he were her best friend in the world. She kissed his snout, and the dog licked her nose, making her giggle and grin even more.
“I missed you, Tink!” she cried. “Did you miss me?”
“Woof!” was the response.
Simon just shook his head, knowing he’d have to share her with the dog all weekend and that he’d come in a distant second for his daughter’s attention.
Bested by a damned dog.
Peyton kept fussing over the foolish animal, acting as if she hadn’t seen him in ages. Simon motioned for Audrey to come join them so he could introduce her to his daughter, and he noticed she was moving gingerly.
He frowned as she reached his side. “Those idiots with the trees didn’t hurt you somehow, did they?”
“No,” she told him.
“The dog?”
“No. The dog is not a problem, Simon.”
“Then what is it? You can hardly walk.”
“I think I just did too much. The mulch had to be spread.”
He looked around, seeing that all the trees in the front yard had a thick, fresh coat of mulch, then looked back at Audrey, who might be five foot two on a good day. “You did all that yourself?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because it had to be done.”
“Not by you,” he said, realizing he was damned close to yelling at her again, and that was the last thing he wanted to do after this morning.
He’d acted like an ass and still hadn’t managed to apologize properly for that, and here he was, about to do it all over again.
“I’m not a slave driver, Audrey. No matter what you might have heard. And I didn’t hire you to do manual labor.”
“Well, I happen to like the manual labor part of the job. I like digging in the soil and planting things and trimming and generally tending to a yard. As for the mulch, it’s not my favorite, but I just didn’t expect there to be so much of it. But I’m fine.”
He looked again and considered the sheer volume of the material she’d moved with those trim shoulders and arms of hers. She had to be aching all over.
“I don’t want you working like that,” he insisted. “It’s too much.”
She got that really stubborn look on her face that she’d worn this morning and said, “I got it done, didn’t I?”
“And now you’re suffering for it—”
“Simon—”
“This is not a discussion, Audrey. When it comes to jobs like that, the ones that take sheer muscle, hire some men with nice, big muscles.”
He was trying to do her a favor—stubborn woman—to take care of her, when she obviously didn’t have the sense to take care of herself.
So why had he come off feeling as if he’d both insulted and infuriated her?
Women!
Would he ever learn how difficult they were and that he was better off steering clear of them, except when absolutely necessary?
Honestly, he was doomed where relationships were concerned, and now she looked halfway scared of him. Either that or seemingly about to cry.
Oh, hell.
Not that.
Anything but that!
Now he had something else to apologize for, and he hadn’t even made his apologies for this morning yet. Although now certainly didn’t seem like the time. He’d probably just end up yelling some more and have to apologize a third time.
He took a breath, tried to wipe the slate clean between them, at least for the moment, and said,
“Peyton?”
She finally stopped fussing over Tink and turned her back to the dog.
“This is the woman I told you about, Mrs. Graham. The one who’s taking care of your dog when you’re not here.”
Peyton stood up and smiled, then held out her hand, the way he’d coached her to do when meeting an adult. “Hello, I’m Peyton Alexandra Collier.”
Impressive for a five-year-old.
Audrey gave her a beautiful smile and shook her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you. And Tink has been waiting by the window, watching for you to arrive for hours. I think he missed you.”
“Did he really?”
“Yes, he did.”
“I miss him all the time!” Peyton sighed dramatically, as if they were normally separated by an ocean or something. “Are you going to love him and be nice to him? Because Daddy and Ms. Bee think he’s awful.”
“I think he’s a wonderful dog,” Audrey said. “He just needs some help understanding how to behave. That’s all. And it’s easier for him to understand if we all expect the same things and treat him the same way—”
“But we’re all going to be nice to him, right?” Peyton asked, looking concerned.
“Yes, we’re all going to be nice to each other,” Audrey reassured her.
She looked a little worried, put one arm around the dog, then leaned toward Audrey and whispered, “You can make my dad be nice to Tink?”
Simon laughed.
“I’ll do my best,” Audrey promised.
“And Ms. Bee? ‘Cause she yells at him when she thinks I can’t hear her.”
Audrey nodded. “I think when you’re not here, I’ll just keep Tink with me, so he doesn’t bother Ms. Bee.”
“Okay. I think that’s a good plan,” Peyton said, giving her approval after some consideration, then turned to her father. “Daddy, I need to go play with Tink now. He missed me.”
“All right, darling.” He kissed the top of her head, and she giggled. “Go ahead. I’ll be inside when you get tired.”
Simon stood there, watching her and the dog. Audrey gave Peyton a ball and told her Tink liked to chase it. She showed her how to be sure to get his attention first, so he was ready for the toss, and then to throw it for him and wait for the dog to bring the ball back and drop it at her feet.
“She’s absolutely adorable,” Audrey said as they watched Peyton and the dog together.
“Well, I think so, but I admit, I’m biased.”
Audrey had been watching his daughter. Then she turned and saw Simon, glowing with paternal pride, and decided he wasn’t just a good-looking man.
He was devastating.
Or maybe she just wished her husband had a fraction of that love and joy in his eyes when he looked at their daughter now. Maybe that’s why the look seemed to cut right through her.
Simon Collier absolutely adored his daughter.
Audrey wondered if Richard ever had.
It hurt. It really, really hurt. All that she wanted for Andie, all they seemed to have lost as a family or maybe never had.
“Audrey?” Simon put a hand on her arm and was suddenly in front of her, frowning and looking worried. “You really hurt yourself, didn’t you? Dammit, you said you were fine—”
“I am,” she claimed, blinking back tears. “I mean … it’s not what you think, Simon. It’s nothing. Just the way you look at her. It’s beautiful, and I hope you never lose that. I hope you always feel that way about her.”
He frowned. “How could I not? She’s my daughter.”
“Exactly,” Audrey said, trying to smile through her tears and standing too close to this powerful man who was her boss, letting him touch her.
“You have a daughter?” he guessed, his eyes never leaving her face, as if it were a puzzle he could solve if he just tried hard enough.
“Yes.”
“And she’s … okay?”
Audrey shrugged one shoulder. How to answer? How much honesty to include? “Andie lives in the house you saw with her father and his girlfriend and goes to the local high school. The last time I saw her, she was fine.”
Furious at Audrey but fine.
“Okay,” he said, looking like he had a million other questions about the situation, but was hoping she’d explain without his having to ask.
Which she didn’t want to do.
“I’m sorry about everything,” she said, rushing into another subject. “For yelling at you this morning, and the tree branch almost falling on you—”
His hand slid up to her shoulder and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “I told you, it’s not your fault. It was mine. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I can be a bear at times, but honestly, that’s no excuse. I really am sorry.”
Audrey sniffled while wiping away a tear. “So, we’re okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded, feeling foolish and overwhelmed at the moment. “I have to talk to your daughter. We have to go over some things about the dog—”
“Later. Go inside. Take a break. Come to the house when you’re ready.”
Audrey nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”
And then she practically fled up the stairs to her apartment. When she turned around to close the door, Simon was still standing there watching her.
Chapter Six
Peyton was a good listener and a fast learner, Audrey discovered later that night, once she’d gotten herself together.
She joined Simon and his daughter on the covered patio at the back of his house, after they’d finished their dinner, to give Peyton some lessons on how to get the dog to become a model member of the household.
Peyton quickly got Tink to come when she called, sit for her, fetch, lie down and, for a few seconds, stay when he was told to do so. He never jumped on Peyton, so that wasn’t an issue between them, and he ignored Simon completely when Peyton was nearby. The dog was even starting to understand he needed to wait to be invited before trying to climb into Peyton’s lap or brace his front paws on her while he stretched up to lick her.
“Okay,” Audrey said. “That’s pretty good.”
“Daddy said he’s not a smart dog, but I knew he was,” Peyton said.
Simon, who was standing on the edge of the patio, holding a drink in one hand and watching their every move, met Audrey’s eyes for a moment, then shook his head.
Audrey grinned, unable to help herself. “Now,” she told Peyton, “let’s talk about tonight. Does Tink normally sleep with you?”
Peyton nodded. “In my bed. He likes that. Ms. Bee doesn’t, but ….” She shot her father a worried look.
“She knows he sleeps in your bed, Peyton.”
Peyton just grinned.
“So you want him with you tonight. That’s fine. You just need to make sure you take him outside, so he can go to the bathroom before you two go to bed. Tell him he has to go, and he will. Make him wait to be invited before he jumps onto your bed, and then … He wakes up early. About six o’clock, he needs to go outside again and then he wants to run. Do you get up that early?”
Peyton shook her head.
“I’ll be up,” Simon said. “I’ll let him out. And then?”
“I’ll be ready to take him for a run,” Audrey told him.
“What about me? Can I run with him?” Peyton asked.
“I don’t think you could go as far as he wants to go. But it would be good if you could exercise him, too. How about you and I work on some ways you can do that for him tomorrow, after you get up?”
“Okay,” Peyton said.
Tink licked her, making her laugh, and the little girl looked up at Audrey as if Audrey had just given her the moon or something as amazing and wonderful.
Which made Audrey think of Andie and the days when Andie thought her mother was amazing. Audrey worried her daughter would never feel that way again.
Audrey was great with his daughter, Simon decided. And a miracle worker with the dog, as far as he was c
oncerned.
Peyton was thrilled to have someone she considered a friend and a fellow dog lover in the house, and Ms. Bee hadn’t voiced one word of complaint about the dog since Audrey had moved in.
Simon was pleased.
Very pleased.
He just wished he knew what had put that haunted look on Audrey’s face when she talked about him and Peyton and why Audrey’s own daughter wasn’t living with her.
On top of that, he’d screamed at her this morning and then she’d done the work of three men this afternoon in the yard. She could barely walk at the moment without something hurting, and she planned to get up at the crack of dawn and run with the dog?
No way.
As Simon saw it, she was due a little rest and an apology.
He left Peyton in the backyard playing with the dog, with Audrey explaining how she’d taught him various things so Peyton could work with him on reinforcing them.
Ms. Bee caught him a moment later in the kitchen on the phone with Natasha Warren, the owner of a downtown salon and spa. Simon was one of her best customers, thanks to his often-short temper. He was just making the arrangements.
“So, how bad were you?” Natasha asked in her normal, easy, sexy voice.
“I’m thinking a ninety-minute massage—”
“Ninety minutes?” Natasha sounded surprised.
“She’s sore,” Simon said, then, when Natasha gave a throaty laugh and Ms. Bee shot him a look of outrage, explained, “Not like that!”
“If you say so, honey,” Natasha said.
“Yard work, Natasha. Too much yard work.”
“Yard work? Could there possibly be some completely new move I haven’t heard of, because, honey, I thought I knew them all—”
“Oh, hell. I’m talking about working in the yard and nothing else.”
Simon swore, and Natasha only laughed harder.
“Ninety minutes on the massage table. Fine. Will that do it?”
“I don’t know. What do women like these days?”
“When Simon Collier doesn’t know what a woman likes, we’re all in trouble,” Natasha purred.
“From your spa,” Simon explained, rapidly losing his patience to the point where he’d soon be sending Natasha a gift certificate to her own business.
