The dog didn’t make a sound. He must be exhausted after all the tests and X-rays. Not to mention his stomachache.
Becca grabbed her purse, exited the car and locked the door.
“Want a hand?”
Caleb.
He walked toward her, silhouetted by the porch light. He’d removed his jacket and tie, undone two buttons at the top of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.
Her heart stumbled. “You’re still here.”
“I didn’t want to leave Grams alone.”
Becca wished she’d been the reason. Pathetic. But she was pleased Caleb realized the difference between live-in staff and her grandson. “I hope she’s not awake.”
“She went to bed after you called.”
“You should have gone home.”
“It’s fine.” He spoke as if staying up half the night was no big deal. Maybe not for him, but she appreciated it. “Too bad the dog gorged himself on so many treats.”
She nodded. “You should have seen the X-rays. Half his tummy was full.”
“Last time he’ll do that.”
“Oh, no. He’ll do it again if given the chance.” Becca opened the crate’s door. “Elkhounds will eat until they make themselves sick. They are food fiends. I knew something was wrong when he wouldn’t eat his dinner.”
Maurice lumbered out of the car as if each step hurt.
“Poor boy.” Caleb picked up the dog. “Where do you want him?”
“On my bed,” she said. “He’s sleeping with me tonight.”
“You really are a lucky dog.”
Becca’s cheeks heated. She was relieved for the darkness so Caleb couldn’t see she’d blushed. “Not that lucky, considering the diet he’ll be going on to get ready for the show this weekend.”
Caleb was supposed to go, but he hadn’t mentioned anything. Maybe he’d changed his mind.
She hoped not.
Wait a minute. That wasn’t right. She didn’t want him to go.
The cottage door was unlocked. She followed Caleb through the living room and into the bedroom. A sheet covered the comforter. Dogs spent so much time in here that cut down on her having to do laundry.
He gently set the dog on the bed. “Here you go, lucky dog.”
“Thanks.” She straightened the sheet then rubbed Maurice. “You should go. It’s late.”
Caleb’s gaze narrowed on her. “You’re exhausted.”
“Long day. I’ll sleep in a little while.” She glanced at the dog who had curled up on her side of the bed. “I want to make sure he doesn’t take a turn for the worse.”
“Take a nap. I’ll watch him.”
A nap would be great, but she couldn’t impose on Caleb. “That’s nice of you to offer, but it’s too late. You have to be at work in the morning.”
“I’m the CEO,” he said. “Grams won’t complain if I show up late.”
“This is my job.”
Caleb tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
A tremble ran through Becca. She didn’t want to react to him, but couldn’t help herself. He had a strange effect on her.
“It’s mine tonight,” he said.
A part of her wanted to let him take over, to not have to do everything herself tonight. She’d been on her own for so long with only herself to depend upon. But she couldn’t...
Not when Caleb took care of so many others.
She raised her chin. “I’m not your responsibility.”
“No, but how about we say you and Maurice are for the next couple of hours?”
The beat of her heart matched the quickening of her pulse. “You’re making it hard for me not to like you.”
His eyebrows wagged. “There’s a lot to like.”
His lighthearted tone made her smile. Something she hadn’t thought possible at this late—make that early—hour. “Maybe, but it’s hard to tell with dog hair all over you.”
His mouth quirked. “You’re covered in dog hair, too.”
Becca didn’t have to look to know it was true. “I’m always covered in dog hair.”
“Grab some clothes.” He kicked off his leather shoes. “Get comfortable on the couch.”
“This is my bedroom.”
“Not tonight.” He crawled into bed with Maurice. The dog moved closer to him. “The boys have taken over.”
“Are you always this bossy?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Get some sleep. Us boys will be fine. Won’t we, Maurice?”
As if on cue, the dog licked Caleb’s hand.
“See,” he said.
Becca stared at him with a tingly feeling in her stomach. Funny—or maybe not so funny—but she could get used to “the boys” being here.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THLURP.
What was that? Caleb opened his eyes. Daylight filled the room. A mass of black and grey fur stood over him.
Thlurp.
A tongue licked his cheek.
He bolted upright.
Maurice’s moist nose and his warm, smelly mouth were right in Caleb’s face.
“Morning breath is one thing.” Caleb turned away. “But yours is toxic.”
The dog panted, looking pleased.
“At least you’re up and about,” Caleb said. “You must feel better.”
Maurice stood on top of him. His paws pressed into Caleb’s thighs.
“You’re too big to be a lap dog.”
The dog didn’t listen. He plopped down, making himself at home on top of Caleb’s legs.
“Okay,” he relented. “You can sit here for a minute. But no longer.”
“Are the boys having trouble this morning?” Becca asked.
The sound of her voice brightened his day like the first rays of sunshine through the window.
Caleb peered around the dog to see Becca standing at the foot of the bed.
She wore a pair of striped fleece pants and a tie-dyed ribbed tank top. Her hair was messy, as if she’d crawled out of bed or in her case, off the couch. Totally hot.
Waking up to Becca licking his face would have been much better. Too bad she couldn’t join Caleb in bed now. He wasn’t in the market for a relationship, but a fling would be fine. Fun.
Becca yawned, stretching her hands overhead.
His gaze shot to her chest, rising with her arm movement.
“You didn’t wake me,” she said.
He was staring. Gawking at her breasts. Not good. He looked at her face. “You were tired.”
“So were you.”
He’d checked on her in the middle of the night. She’d looked so peaceful with a slight smile on her face. He’d thought how appealing inviting her into bed with him would be. He’d imagined carrying her to bed. But that had bad idea written all over it. So he’d covered her with the blanket she’d kicked off and returned to bed with Maurice. “I wasn’t.”
“You stayed up all night.”
“Not all night.” Caleb’s gaze kept straying to her tank top. “Once Maurice settled down, I dozed.”
Becca moved closer.
The scent of her filled Caleb’s nostrils. Wanting more, he breathed in deeper this time.
She touched the dog, leaning into him. Her hand brushed Caleb’s thigh, sending shivery sparks up his leg.
“He looks better this morning,” she said. “I’ll take him outside.”
“I took him outside around three.”
Her lips parted, full and soft and kissable. If not for the dead weight on his lap, he would have tried to kiss her.
“I didn’t hear you,” she said.
“We were quiet.” He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. “It’s only five-thirty. G
o back to bed.”
“You’re in my bed.”
A sensual awareness buzzed between them.
A comfortable queen-size bed. A beautiful woman. A couple hours to kill until he was due at the office. This was looking pretty good.
“I’ll scoot over. Maurice won’t mind.” Caleb moved closer to the far edge. It would be better if Maurice gave up his turn on the bed and went to the couch, but the dog didn’t seem like the selfless type. Becca had that role locked up.
She watched him.
“The dog’s on my side.” Caleb kept his tone light, half-joking so he wouldn’t scare her off. He patted the empty spot on the mattress. “Plenty of room for you now.”
Her gaze shifted from him to the bed. “Better be careful, who you invite into bed, Mr. Fairchild.”
“It’s your bed.”
“Then you should be even more careful. You wouldn’t want to give away any corporate secrets over pillow talk.”
He grinned. “Who said anything about talking?”
“You’re full of surprises this morning.”
He would be happy to surprise her more. All he needed was the opportunity and an invitation. “You’re seeing only what you want to see.”
“I’m seeing a pot and a kettle. Which one are you?” Amusement twinkled in her eyes. “I’d say the pot. But I suppose it doesn’t matter, since they’re both black.”
Damn. Caleb shouldn’t be so attracted to her. This went deeper than her looks. She challenged him, kept him on his toes. He liked that.
His ex-fiancée had always tried to suck up and sweet-talk him. Most women went along with him, rarely disagreed, as if he wanted a yes-woman instead of someone who spoke her mind and pushed his buttons.
Not that he wanted a woman. But he’d take this one for the morning. Hell, he’d stretch it to lunchtime if she were game. “That makes you the kettle.”
“Works for me,” she said. “I love kettle corn.”
What was it about Becca Taylor that could get him turned on talking about cookware and popcorn?
Keeping his distance was the smart course of action if he wanted to avoid a complicated and messy situation. But leaving Becca’s bed, especially if there was any chance of her climbing in it, didn’t appeal to him in the slightest.
A fling would be fun. Easy. Safe.
And then Caleb remembered where he was....
The guest cottage at his grandmother’s estate. With Grams’s employee. His advisee.
A woman who made it hard to think straight when he was around her. A woman who knew too much about him. A woman who was the definition of dangerous.
Alarm bells sounded in his head. Maybe not so safe.
“It’s all yours.” Caleb moved the dog then slid off the bed. “I have to go.”
“Okay.” Becca bit her lip. “Thanks. Again. For, um, everything.”
She looked as confused as he felt.
No matter. Time to get out of here before he changed his mind and did something really stupid, like trying to kiss the confusion out of her eyes.
Caleb patted the dog then slipped on his shoes. He tried to ignore how sexy Becca looked right now. “I need to put in extra hours at Fair Face with the dog show this weekend.”
“You don’t have to go.” The words rushed out of her mouth faster than the rapids on the Snake River. “I can handle the show on my own.”
She didn’t want him to go. “I know, but I want to see about the products and my grandmother wants me there.”
“Gertie is a worrywart when it comes to her dogs.”
And when it came to Becca, too. Caleb was torn. As appealing as a weekend away from work sounded, spending more time alone with Becca wasn’t smart. But he couldn’t forget about his grandmother’s wishes. “I’d rather not disappoint Grams.”
“Gertie will understand if you’re busy and have other plans.” Becca’s mouth tightened. “Say a date or something.”
She’d baited the hook and cast the line. He didn’t mind biting, if only to see her reaction and appeasing her curiosity about his going out with anyone. “No date. Work.”
The lines around her mouth disappeared. “It’s not a problem if you stay in Boise. Really.”
“Well, since you don’t mind...”
“I don’t.”
“I’ll talk to Grams.”
“Do.”
She seemed too adamant about his not going. Maybe he’d misread her curiosity. Maybe she didn’t want him to go to see what she’d be up to at the dog show. “I won’t be around as much the next few days, possibly the entire week.”
“Good. I mean...it’ll be good to have time away. At Fair Face.”
Becca sounded nervous. Flustered. She seemed so natural and unstudied and artless. Maybe he hadn’t misread her after all.
A smile tugged at his lips. “Call me if you have any questions about the business plan.”
“Will do. Thanks again for taking care of Maurice.”
As if on cue, the dog jumped off the bed. He nudged Becca’s hand with his nose so she’d give him attention.
Too bad that trick didn’t work for Caleb. “You’re welcome.”
She bit her lip again. “You were on your way out?”
“Yes.” Caleb grabbed his jacket and forced his feet to move in the direction of the front door. He’d better get going or he could end up staying here all morning. “Have a great day.”
“Wait,” she called out.
He stopped, hoping she was going to ask him to stay. A long shot, but this was as good a day as any to try being an optimist.
Becca handed him a lint roller. “Take this.”
This was the last thing he expected. So much for optimism. Caleb laughed. “You need it.”
“I have more than one, including two in my car.”
“Always prepared.”
“I never want to find myself unprepared again.”
“I feel the same.” He wasn’t prepared for how much he wanted to stay with her now. Time to put some distance between him and the oh-so-appealing Becca Taylor “If I don’t talk to you before the weekend, good luck at the dog show.”
* * *
More than once after Caleb left the guest cottage, Becca picked up her cellphone to call Caleb. More than once she put away her cellphone.
That afternoon, she worked with Dozer on obedience training. The little guy needed to learn to behave and obey if he was ever going to find a forever home. Gertie would adopt him before sending him to live at the rescue shelter, but she and Becca agreed he’d do better with a family.
“Sit.”
The dog sat.
“Stay.”
She walked to the end of the leash, approximately six feet away, and hit the timer on her cellphone.
Dozer remained in place. Now to see if he sat for the full sixty seconds, a long sit in obedience training.
The seconds ticked off.
Becca wondered what Caleb was doing. He’d been on her mind since he’d left. She had questions about the business plan. As soon as she figured out one thing, that raised a bunch more questions. But she could find the answers herself if she searched on-line. The reason she wanted to call Caleb was to hear his voice.
Pathetic.
Hadn’t she learned anything?
Even if Caleb was handsome, polite, hardworking, liked dogs, getting involved, at whatever level, with a man who had money was a bad idea. Like dumping water on an oil fire. Explosive. She’d been burned once. No reason to repeat that experiment.
Stop thinking about him.
Becca needed to forget about Caleb and focus on getting ready to leave for the dog show on Thursday. She’d gotten her wish. She was going alone. If she needed a hand with the dogs,
she could ask one of the Junior Showmanship kids to help her. Most of them were eager to help and learn more. She’d been that way.
Dozer rose to all fours and trotted toward her, as happy as a dog could be.
She glanced at the stopwatch. Forty-five seconds. Fifteen seconds too short. She gave him a pat. “We’ll have to try this again.
Her cellphone buzzed. A new text message arrived. She glanced at the screen. From Caleb. Her hands tightened around the phone with excitement.
How’s Maurice?
A ball of heat ignited deep within Becca. Caleb might have some faults, but he cared about the elkhound. She typed out a quick reply.
Good as new. Hungry again.
Maybe Caleb would find some spare time to stop by to see the dog. Maurice would like that. She would, too.
Becca waited for a reply. And waited. And waited.
She didn’t hear from him. No texts. No phone calls. Nothing.
Tuesday gave way to Wednesday. Becca packed her suitcase and readied the RV for the trip to Central Oregon.
She tried not to think about Caleb. Or ask Gertie if she’d heard from him. He’d told Becca he wasn’t going and would be busy. No. Big. Deal.
Thursday arrived. She packed everything she needed for the next three days in the RV.
Gertie said goodbye to each dog. “Don’t cause Becca any trouble.”
“They’ll be fine,” she said.
Gertie hugged her. The woman smelled like flowers and sunshine and the color pink. “Call me when you get there.”
Becca loaded the dogs into their crates. “I will.”
“I’m sorry you have to go alone.”
“Caleb’s a busy man.” That was what she kept telling herself.
Concern filled Gertie’s gaze. “Too busy. He’s going to wake up one day and not have anything to show for it.”
Becca thought a huge checking account balance would show for a lot, but she’d never had any money so what did she know?
Having so much responsibility thrust upon him at a young age had to have taken its toll. She wasn’t going to add to his burdens. “Caleb will figure things out when he’s ready. He’s been spending more time with you.”
The Man Behind the Pinstripes Page 10
