Paws Up for Love

by Stephanie Rowe

  "What if I want to be yours?" Oops. "I mean, what if I could be yours? Or what if we could have a meaningless relationship of hot sex?" As if she even knew what one of those was. "Would it be worth it to restrain yourself given the very small likelihood that you're the one who's right about my future with Buddy?"

  "Yes."

  Well, at least he sounded in pain about the idea. That was something at least. Maybe she was making a little progress. Whittling him down. And hmm...if she managed to seduce Evan and he realized how wonderful she was, then maybe he'd stop his little matchmaking gig.

  Then again, maybe she was playing with fire. Maybe in the effort of seducing him she'd actually end up liking him. And then she'd be in a peck of trouble.

  The safer bet would probably just be to go find Buddy and get her money back from him and get on with her life. "Fine. Suit yourself."

  And then she made herself walk out, leaving behind the sexiest naked man she'd ever had the pleasure of standing in the same room with...not that there was a lot of competition in that area. Might have to broaden that circle of comparison.

  Chapter 13

  By the time Evan made it downstairs, he was mad.

  Mad at himself for being unable to stop thinking about how sexy Josie looked in her little tee shirt.

  Mad at Josie for marching into his bathroom and being so feisty and appealing that he wanted to grab her and kiss her until the fire exploded into something that overwhelmed them both.

  Mad at Buddy for taking off and putting him in this situation in the first place.

  First thing on the agenda for this Saturday morning: find his blasted brother and get Josie out of his house and life.

  And find out what really happened to her money and her car.

  He walked into the kitchen to find Josie sitting at the kitchen table, her nose buried in the newspaper while her cat drank milk out of his good china. Her wet hair was spun in a bun on the top of her head, allowing an unobstructed view of her elegant neck. She'd replaced the tee shirt with khaki shorts, a pair of hot pink tennis shoes and a modest tank top that did wonders for his libido. Not that he was noticing. "What are you doing?"

  "Taking control of my life." She didn't look up, but reached to her left to pick up her orange juice, which was sitting next to a waffle with one bite out of it. "Your waffle iron stinks, by the way."

  "I'll buy a new one."

  She rolled her eyes. "I don't want a new one. I want mine. Forty years old, seasoned with age to make the perfect waffle. Not one of the new-fangled things with Teflon and a timer."

  "Why would my brother steal a waffle iron?" He walked past her and flicked on the coffee maker. Nothing. He'd forgotten to fill it last night after that kiss on the couch.

  "If you'd tried one of my waffles, you wouldn't have to ask." She took an orange highlighter and circled something in the paper.

  He peered over her shoulder. "Want ads?"

  "I'm a highly experienced vet tech. Even without a reference, I should be able to get a job." The side-gig she'd had as a bartender for a caterer had ended when the owner had decided to open a worm farm instead, which was just not the best timing, of course. Nothing was happening right at the moment. She eyed him. "Lest you forget, the reason I don't have a reference is because your stupid brother left me with the rap. Or, if you'd rather, because I was so passionately in love with Buddy that I couldn't keep my hands off him, and we were caught in a compromising position on the operating table after hours. Your pick."

  The image of Buddy and Josie together flew to his mind, and a black anger settled in his chest. "I prefer neither option."

  Josie looked up from her newspaper. "Really? You didn't like option two?"

  "No."

  She tapped the back of the marker against her chin. "Just when I think you're two dimensional and predictable, you throw me a curve. Not sure I follow this one."

  He wasn't sure he could either, so better to change the subject before she asked for an explanation. "So, any idea where Buddy is?"

  "Nope. Cancelled all my credit cards after he stole them. Probably shouldn't have done that, huh? He would have been easier to track."

  Evan ground his teeth and turned away to fill the coffee maker. "Any idea where he went? Did he talk about any places? What about his friends? A job?"

  There was an extended silence.

  He turned around to find Josie studying him, an undecipherable look on her face. "What?"

  "You really don't know your own brother, do you?"

  "It's been six years. So?"

  "I mean, you don't even know his friends, or anything."

  "Which is why I dragged you here. I figured you’re the closest lead I've had to him since he was released from pr..." Darn it. Hadn't meant to let that slip.

  "Prison?" Josie jumped to her feet. "You accuse me of lying yet you knew all along that he'd been in prison?"

  "A friend of his stole a car right after high school graduation and he went along for the ride. Innocent fun, and he learned from it."

  "You are priceless, Evan. How can you have such blind faith?"

  "He's my brother."

  "And that makes him good?"

  "He has value, Josie. Even you must have seen glimpses of it."

  "What I saw was a man who was very good at projecting the image I was vulnerable to, a man who hid his true side well."

  "You, vulnerable? I find that hard to believe."

  "Really? You think I'm a tough, impenetrable fortress?" She looked quite pleased at the notion.

  "I don't think you'd let anyone manipulate you."

  "Wow. That's great." Then she frowned. "Except you don't count."

  "Dare I ask why?" Of course he'd ask. The woman fascinated him.

  "Because you're not an eligible male. It's eligible males who manipulate and take advantage of me. But I crossed you off my list even before I met you, so it doesn't count." She scowled and propped her head up with her hands. "You know, I don't think I ever liked Buddy. He was just my rebound guy after I was emotionally decimated by my ex-husband. Snookered by a guy I didn't even like. Pathetic."

  "What happened with your ex?" This was the first time she'd shared anything personal with him, and he wanted more.

  "He fell in love with an obstetrician. She's tall, has a perfect figure, understands his need to work one-hundred-hour weeks, and can discuss body parts over the dinner table. His soulmate, he said." She took a long drink of her juice, then slammed her empty glass on the table. "Two weeks from the day he met her, he asked me for a divorce." She looked at him. "Do you realize we were friends for almost six years before we started dating? We got married less than a year after we started dating, because once we became a couple, our families were all over us to get married. Six months later, he was off with this other woman. After seven and a half years with me, it took him only two weeks to know this other woman was his soulmate. Can you believe it?"

  No wonder she tried to be so tough. She had a lot of pain to hide, and to overcome. "Was he your soulmate?"

  "That soulmate stuff is bunk. It's just an excuse to treat someone else badly." She rubbed the wrinkles out of her forehead. "This whole love thing is stupid anyway. Love's just an excuse to shack up with someone and then have your heart broken. That's why I'm going for sex-only relationships from now on. Keep the emotions out of it, and everything's fine." She eyed him. "And don't start lecturing me on how I'm missing out in life by not dropping to my knees for the next man who will give me a ring. I don't want to be married. I don't need to be married. I'm going to have a career and that'll give me everything I need. So don't start!"

  He lifted his hands. "I wasn't going to lecture you."

  "Good." She pointed a spoon at him. "Leave me alone."

  "I think a career will be good for you."

  She blinked. "You do?"

  "Of course. Mine changed my life." Not that he was going to get into his secrets, but she deserved something from him.

  She l
eaned back in the chair and eyed him. "How so?"

  "Got me where I am today. Without it, I'd still be living down the street from you in Brighton." She already knew he'd been poor. Nothing new there.

  Josie propped her chin on her hand and eyed him. "So, your career made you happy, right? It makes up for the fact you don't have a family."

  "Who said I don't have a family?" he snapped. How did she know both his parents had died in prison?

  Her eyes opened wide. "You're married?"

  "Oh, that. No."

  After a long moment, understanding apparently dawned. "You thought I meant parents and siblings?"

  "Never mind."

  "Where are your parents?"

  "Doesn't matter."

  Josie tilted her head and studied him, too much awareness on her face. "You wish you had a giant family?"

  He shrugged. This conversation was getting much too personal for him.

  She tapped her spoon on the table. "Tell you what. I'll make a deal with you."

  He lifted a brow.

  "I'll share my family with you if you tell them that having a career can be emotionally satisfying. Not just emotionally satisfying, but enough to make you a complete person." She grinned. "And you have to be convincing enough to get them off my back. And in return, you'll get immersion into one of the biggest, most annoying and lovable families around." She leaned forward. "So, what do you say? Tonight's family dinner night. Are you game?"

  Evan shifted. What was he supposed to say to that? It wasn't as if Josie's family could suddenly replace the one he'd never had. On the other hand, it was apparent that she was asking for his help. How could he turn that down? It wasn't as if she was asking for much, just a little help getting some breathing room from her family.

  "Please?" She peered at him. "Will you come to dinner tonight?"

  "Fine."

  "You will?" She jumped up. "Really?"

  He couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Sure."

  She let out a howl of delight, flung herself across the kitchen, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Once. Hard.

  Then she pulled back and looked at him, a look of startled surprise on her face. "Oh. Um. Sorry."

  Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed, her hands still tight around him. Vibrant. Passionate. Excited. "I owe you."

  Something began to simmer deep inside him. So deep, he was barely aware of it. "You don't owe me."

  "Yes, I do. Anything." She pummeled his chest lightly with her fists. "Don't you understand? You're the first person to give me even the slightest support in this career-oriented lifestyle. It has to be the right choice for me, because I can't go through another relationship, but everyone keeps telling me I'm making a mistake." Her eyes clouded slightly. "Even if you don't believe it, thanks for helping to get my family off my back. I mean, I love them. I really do. But sometimes it just gets so hard..."

  He shut her up with a kiss.

  He meant it just to be quick and light, but the moment he felt the soft warmth of her lips under his, his honorable intentions dissipated. Her mouth responded instantly, parting for him, meeting him. He groaned when she slipped her arms around his neck, and pressed her body against his, even while he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her up against him.

  Her breath tasted like sweet innocence, mingling with his as if they'd been searching for each other their whole lives. Awareness raged though him, sending the blood cascading through his body, racing to find the center of his core.

  A soft murmur from Josie caught his gut. That murmur was for him. Her name tumbled from his lips as he slipped his hand under her shirt, flattening his palms over her back. Her muscles tensed under his touch, then relaxed.

  "Take me," she whispered against his mouth. "Let's just forget about everything and go upstairs. Please."

  Reality slammed like a cement block into his gut. He dropped his hands and pushed her back. "I can't." His voice was harsh and gruff, and he saw the hurt that flashed into her eyes. "I'm sorry, Josie."

  She hugged her arms across her chest and turned away, not even fighting his rejection.

  He touched her arm. "Josie. It's not you. Trust me."

  She shrugged off his touch. "Do you have anything else to eat? That waffle just didn't do it for me."

  "Josie..."

  But she shot him a sharp glare. "Forget about it. You don't want me. I understand. Let it go. You'll come to dinner tonight and bail me out. That was the deal. I'm fine."

  But I do want you. Whoa. How had he let that happen? Was he that hard up that he'd covet his own brother's woman?

  No, it wasn't that. It was that she was fun, spunky, sexy as hell, and she didn't let him boss her around and she didn't give a hoot about trying to impress him for his money. So refreshing after the staid and dignified world he'd been traveling in for so long, the one he'd worked so hard to fight his way into, in his effort to leave his past behind.

  Josie worked her way through his cabinets, muttering about the injustice of a man with so much money having nothing interesting to eat.

  Wouldn't any man find her just as refreshing? It didn't make him a bad person to be attracted to her. Acting on it, however, was a different story. Twice now he'd lost total willpower. What was up with that? He never lost control when it came to women. Ever.

  But that was Josie. She was different. Special. Even though she wasn't from this blue blood world, she fit perfectly and brought life to it... Hmm... Would Dr. Black find her just as refreshing? "If I convince your family to back off, will you do me a favor?"

  She didn't turn around. "What do you want?"

  "Dinner."

  "A date?" Her voice wavered ever so slightly.

  "With the client I'm trying to land. I think you'd connect with him."

  She turned around, leaned on the counter and folded her arms across her chest. "You want to prostitute me?"

  "Hell, no!" Crap. Is that what she thought of him? "Just join us for dinner and be yourself."

  Josie narrowed her eyes. "Is this the same client Priscilla was supposed to help you with?"

  He winced. "Yes."

  "So you think a woman with movable eyebrows and a bit of cellulite will be more helpful than the Botox toothpick woman?"

  He grinned. That was actually a pretty good description of Priscilla. "I think there's a good chance."

  She reached the last cabinet, where his cereal was stored. She let out a sigh of relief and pulled down a box of toasted oats. "Finally! A decent breakfast."

  "Josie, I can't find a way to reach this guy. I think he'd respond to you."

  She worked her way back to the cabinet with the bowls, then took both over to the table. "I'd love to help you...well, no. Actually, I wouldn't. I've sworn off helping men."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Part of my therapy." She poured the cereal in the bowl, then followed it with a generous helping of milk.

  "Therapy?"

  "Yes. Buddy's not the first guy who snookered me. I sort of have a weakness there." She took a mouthful of cereal into her mouth and chewed.

  He waited.

  Finally, she swallowed, and started to dish up another bite.

  "Josie?"

  "Yes?" The spoon hovered in the air.

  "What are you talking about?"

  She sighed. "Part of the New Josie is being emotionally self-reliant. The other part is that I won't let myself be used by a man. I'm not real talented at distinguishing between being a doormat and being helpful but not a doormat, so I've banned myself from playing the nurturing role with any man ever again."

  "So, don't you want to learn the difference?"

  "No, not really. I'd rather just become cold and mean." She took another bite of her cereal.

  "Okay, then." He really wanted her to go to dinner. She could definitely be the difference in securing this client. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wanted her along for her own company. Nothing at all. Because he didn't. "
Consider it a trade. I go to dinner tonight to help you with your family, and you go to dinner to help me." He held up his hand. "I'm not going to dinner to become a part of your family, though I appreciate the offer. I'd just go for you."

  Josie drummed her fingers on the table. "A trade, huh? So there would be some self-serving motives on my part if I helped you?"

  "Of course. It's totally selfish."

  "Huh." She tapped her spoon on the edge of her bowl. "This has potential."

  "Sure does."

  She nodded. "Okay. Here's the deal. If you actually convince my family to back off, then I'll go to dinner. If you fail, then I don't go to dinner." She lifted a hesitant eyebrow. "How's that? Is that a tough enough line to take?"

  "Definitely. What time's dinner tonight?"

  "Six."

  He cringed. Bertie would have to do some serious rearranging of his schedule to get him out of work that early. But that was fine. It was an investment, not some social dillydally. "I'll meet you here."

  "All right, then." Josie still looked a little uncertain. "I guess I better get going then. I have to find a job, beg for financial aid, and find Buddy. I have to work at the shelter tomorrow, so I won't be able to do it then..."

  "Shelter?"

  "Yes. My friend, Bev, runs this amazing shelter, called Give a Dog a Bone. I used to volunteer there several times a week, but she has this new spitfire partner, Jez Barnum. Between Jez and their new staff, they're pretty well-staffed, so I don't go over as much anymore. But since Bev is out of town on her honeymoon, and Jez has to present at some awards ceremony for Women Who Make a Difference tomorrow, I'm running things for the day." She wrinkled her nose. "As far as I know, Buddy hasn't screwed that up for me yet."

  Evan raised his brows. "You're going to ride your bike around all day?"

  She rolled her eyes in delightfully adorable irritation. "I was actually thinking of walking on my hands."

  Evan fished a pair of keys out of a nearby drawer. "Take my truck."

  She looked startled. "What are you going to drive?"

  "I have two cars." No need to tell her the other one was the first car he'd ever bought, an ancient Chevy pickup with over three hundred thousand miles on it. A classic, and it ran great. Still made him proud to drive it.