Just a Little Bet (Where There's Smoke)

by Tawna Fenske

But the couple saved her the trouble.

  Without so much as a “goodbye” or a “thank you” or a “hey, would you know the name of a really good therapist?” they turned and stormed away, squabbling as they disappeared the same way they’d come.

  Kayla looked down at the dog in her arms. “Well, that escalated.”

  The dog wiggled to get down, so she set him at her feet and grabbed the end of his leash. He promptly scampered to a shrub and gave it a thorough watering.

  “So, you’re my dog now.” Saying the words aloud made her smile, so she kept going. “I have a dog. My very own dog.”

  Why had it taken this long to get one? In the back of her mind, she’d been waiting for the day she had a husband or at least a serious boyfriend. A dog was a big commitment, and it made sense for everyone to be on board.

  But there was no husband and no boyfriend, and it was about time Kayla started living for herself instead of making choices based on some future version of her life that might not even happen.

  “Kayla?” She looked up to see Tony walking toward her, a puzzled look on his face. “How did you get here?”

  “I ran,” she said, focusing on the logistics instead of the dog yapping fiercely at her traveling companion. “It’s a nice evening, and I wanted to scout a few test shots. How did you know where to find me?”

  “I didn’t, actually.” He shook his head, looking bemused. “I came out here to see the forest. I hadn’t been back since I worked the Chalk Ridge Fire in ’09, so I wanted to check it out.”

  “Oh.” She stared at him, a little dumbfounded. “So this was just a coincidence?”

  Patience O’Toole said there was no such thing as coincidence, but Kayla shushed that inner voice and focused on Tony.

  “Guess so.” He looked down at the snarling creature lunging and wagging at the other end of the leash. “Uh, who’s this?”

  She tightened her grip on the leash, wondering if she’d been too impulsive. “This is my dog.”

  “Your dog.” He stared down at the little mutt, and Kayla held her breath.

  They were traveling in his Jeep, after all. A Jeep he loved so much he once told Grady he wanted to be buried in it. Kayla also heard Tony’s old girlfriend suggest they take her toddler niece for a ride in it. From the look on Tony’s face, she’d have thought the woman suggested drinking bleach.

  “This isn’t really a kid-friendly rig,” he’d told the girlfriend, nixing more than just the possibility of a lunch date with that particular love interest.

  But the way Tony was watching the dog now told her maybe, just maybe, there was some possibility.

  Tony shook his head and met her eyes. “What’s its name?”

  “His name?” Was he really taking her seriously?

  “Yeah.” Tony scuffed his shoe in the dirt. “Dog’s gotta have a name.”

  The grin that seized her spread warm and slow over her face. Like a mature grown-up, she fought the urge to do a celebratory fist pump. “Fireball,” she decided, tightening her grip on the leash. “His name is Fireball.”

  Tony shrugged and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Come on, Fireball. Let’s go for a ride.”

  …

  So they had a dog.

  Well, Kayla had a dog, but since they were traveling together, Tony pretty much had a dog, too.

  What the hell?

  He watched the little mutt scampering around Kayla’s hotel room like a four-legged crack fiend. They’d stopped on the way back to buy food and some treats, and the damn thing had started growing on him. He had to admit it was a cute dog.

  That didn’t mean Tony was cut out to care for a dog or a baby or a wife or any other living creature. It was fine for Kayla, but this was just one more reminder of how different they were. Why he could never be the kind of guy Kayla deserved for the long haul.

  “Thanks for being so cool about this.” She was sitting in the middle of the bed, holding a sock to play tug-of-war with the little dog. “I don’t know how I would have gotten him back here if you hadn’t come along.”

  “No problem.” He cleared his throat, not wanting to say this next thing. Not wanting to sound like a macho prick. And yet: “I worry about you tromping around in the woods alone like that.”

  She looked at him, eyes flashing with something he couldn’t read.

  He sat down on the bed beside her, not wanting to tower over her. “Seriously.” He put a hand on her knee. “There are a lot of assholes out there.”

  A muscle twitched in her jaw. “I have pepper spray. I could have gotten it out of my bag if I’d run into anyone bad.”

  “I hear you,” he said. “Just—please be careful. You’re my friend, and I want you to be safe.”

  Friend. How weird did that sound?

  They’d been so much more than friends. Even now, a year into a relationship that was closer than almost any in his life, he knew there was something more between them. He considered Grady one of his best friends but sure as hell didn’t look at him like this.

  She still wasn’t saying anything, so Tony kept going. “Friends look out for each other, right?”

  Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “As my friend, you’re trying to help me get to the bottom of whatever the hell makes me a bad boyfriend.”

  “Or a commitment-phobe.” She laughed and dropped the sock as the dog twisted himself up in it. “I still think Carrie was a point in my favor.”

  “We’ll call it a toss-up.” He kept forgetting about the damn bet. “Seriously, though. Let me look out for you. I’m not going to babysit you or follow you around like some goddamn bodyguard. But I want to make sure you’re safe.”

  She hesitated, blue eyes searching his. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

  It was a big concession. She’d never liked relying on anyone else, and he knew accepting any sort of help bruised her ego.

  He expected her to drop her gaze. To pick up the sock and go back to playing with the dog. That’s what he’d do—a desperate attempt to break the tension.

  But Kayla looked deep into his eyes and didn’t blink. Tony saw the trust there, the lingering wisps of fear. There was something else, too. It looked almost like longing, and a fierce urge to kiss her nearly bowled him over.

  He leaned back, fighting the urge. No. Bad idea. Not when they were traveling in close quarters like this. He should just go back to his own room and—

  “Tony?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Kiss me.”

  Fuck.

  He took a deep breath. “Don’t you think that’s a bad idea?”

  “Maybe.” A tiny smile tugged the edge of her mouth. “Want me to kiss you instead?”

  Jesus, did he. He ordered himself to keep breathing. He could show some self-restraint. He could be the one to step back, to get up, to—

  Her lips found his, and it was all over. Jesus, she was soft. Pressing against him, she threaded her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss deepened, and she made the soft little sound in the back of her throat that always drove him wild.

  He kissed her back, ordering himself to be gentle. This was about comfort, not lust. Just a friend comforting a friend.

  Right.

  Her hand dragged down his chest, leaving a path of fire in its wake, and the friend theory flew out the window. This kiss was different. Hot and sexy and tender and gentle, and he didn’t know how all those things could coexist. All he knew was that she felt fucking amazing.

  But he shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t take advantage. Shouldn’t fuck up the friendship.

  Shouldn’t shouldn’t shouldn’t.

  The word pulsed through his brain as he broke the kiss. “Kayla, we shouldn’t—”

  “I know,” she said, then kissed him again. “We defi
nitely shouldn’t.”

  But they did. He did, she did—hell, he wasn’t sure who to blame as he slid his arms around her and Kayla arched warm and tight against him. Her breathing had gone ragged, just the way it used to in bed. He skimmed his hand over the edge of her breast, and she moaned against his mouth.

  God, he wanted her.

  And he didn’t want to lose her.

  But also, he wanted her. Bad.

  Yip! A paw raked his arm, and Tony jerked back. Yip!

  He looked down to see the dog had hopped on the bed. The little guy sat wagging frantically, staring up at him with earnest eyes.

  “What do you want?” His voice dragged out rough and metallic, not like his voice at all.

  The dog just looked at him. Yip!

  Kayla licked her lips. “Maybe he has to go out?”

  “Right.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin and got to his feet. His limbs were acting strangely, like someone poured hot molasses through his veins. “Right, that’s probably it.”

  Kayla scrambled to her feet, and Tony reached down a second too late to help. Or maybe just eager to touch her, selfish prick that he was. “I’m fine,” she said, waving him off as she pushed away from the bed.

  She darted to the dresser and grabbed the dog’s leash. “Come on, Fireball.”

  The dog yipped again, and Tony stepped back to let them move past him through the door.

  “I—um—I’ll be right back,” Kayla said.

  “Right, sure, yeah.” Tony raked a hand through his hair, not sure how this had gotten awkward all of a sudden. “I’ll be here.”

  Or should he? It was her room, after all.

  Something in the back of his brain was screaming at him. Get out. Get out. Intimacy overload or a need to protect her? He didn’t know.

  “Or maybe I should go,” he said. “Let you get your rest.”

  “Oh.” Kayla stopped, already halfway into the hall. “Right. That actually might be best. It’s been a long day and all.”

  “Totally.” He hated how relief washed through him. How his brain kept yelling at him to step back, to get out now instead of touching her again.

  “Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” He skirted past her, giving her a wide berth. “You want to meet up for breakfast before we hit the road?”

  “Oh, um, sure.” She made a face. “Actually, no. I’m going for a run at five, so maybe I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

  “Good idea.” It was; it absolutely was. They both needed some distance between them. “All right, then. Sleep well.”

  He turned and aimed for his room, fighting every urge that told him to sprint like a man being chased.

  Chapter Six

  Alone in her room, Kayla leaned back against the headboard with Fireball curled at her side. She dialed the phone with one hand stroking the dog’s silky fur.

  “You really are a sweetie,” she murmured.

  “Thank you,” said Willa, answering before the phone in Kayla’s hand could even ring. “Is that what you called to say?”

  Taking a deep breath, Kayla scrunched her eyes closed. “I kissed Tony and adopted a dog and almost had two strangers catch me bare-assed in the woods.” She paused, wondering if she should have started with hello. “Not necessarily in that order.”

  “Wow.” Willa fell silent. “You’ve been gone three days, girl. What’s your plan for tomorrow, bank robbery?”

  Kayla laughed, since that felt like a better alternative to crying. “Seriously, though, the kiss.” Because of course that’s what was mostly on her mind. “He practically ran screaming from the room. Like he couldn’t get away fast enough.”

  “Start at the beginning,” Willa said. “Right now, I don’t know if we’re talking about the strangers, the dog, or Tony.”

  Kayla smiled, grateful to have girlfriends. She began with the part about meeting Carrie at the diner, omitting most of the personal details about Tony. He deserved some privacy, after all. But she spared no detail in the story about Fireball. Not with the kiss, either, which still left her lips tingling more than two hours later.

  “He was always a good kisser,” Kayla said. “But something was different.”

  “Different how?”

  “I don’t know. More intimate? Or maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

  “You have been reading that self-help stuff.”

  Maybe that was it. But her brain flashed back to the press of Tony’s body against hers, and she wasn’t so sure. “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just feeling sentimental about adopting a dog. Maternal hormones or something.”

  “Sure, that could be it.” Willa’s tone told her she believed that about as much as Kayla did.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” Kayla said. “Now’s not a good time to start anything. Besides, it’s not like we did so hot before with the relationship thing.”

  Another long pause. “Maybe you failed because you hadn’t done the self-improvement thing,” Willa offered slowly. “Maybe new-and-improved Kayla will be perfect for Tony 2.0.”

  She laughed, startling Fireball. Stroking a hand down the dog’s back, she considered her friend’s words. “Why does he get to be 2.0 and I’m new-and-improved?”

  “Alliteration,” Willa said matter-of-factly. “Well, with his name, anyway. For the record, I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

  “Thank you.” It occurred to her this was the exact same thing Tony had said. Huh. She scratched Fireball behind the ears. “I think I might have to throw in the towel on meditation, though.”

  “It’s good to know your limits.”

  “Very true.” Is that what Tony was doing in trying to push her away? “Anyway, I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.” Willa laughed. “Stevie’s licking my hand. I think he’s trying to tell me he can’t wait to meet Fireball.”

  “I can’t wait for you both to meet him.” Glancing at her watch, Kayla did some mental math. She only had time to read one more chapter. “I’d better go. I’m getting up early to run, and then we’re heading into Wyoming tomorrow so I can get some shots there.”

  “And Montana after that?”

  “Right,” Kayla said. “Give my love to Grady.”

  “Will do.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  Willa laughed. “Miss you, Kay.”

  “I miss you, too.” She hung up, feeling empty and filled to the brim all at the same time.

  …

  Kayla ran early the next morning, before the sun was even up. In one hand she gripped her pepper spray, and in the other she held Fireball’s leash.

  “We can get a new leash and collar when we get to the Humane Society. Something cuter—maybe polka dots,” she assured him. “We’ll make sure the paperwork’s all nice and legal so you’re mine for good.”

  Fireball lolled his tongue to the side and wagged his tail, already a fan of this plan. And of morning runs, which thrilled Kayla to bits. She’d never realized what she’d been missing by not getting a dog.

  So what if she ended up dating someone who had a dog that didn’t get along with hers? Or what if her future husband had dog allergies?

  She’d never wanted to close those doors before, but maybe it was time. To move forward, to finally find her soul mate, she needed to make changes.

  “I’m done with that,” she said out loud.

  This was her new mantra, as of last night. She’d read a new chapter in Go Get It, and it was all about putting an end to limiting behaviors—those things people do because of societal pressure instead of because they really want to.

  From now on, no more holding back.

  The sun was fully up by the time she’d showered and dressed and scarfed down a breakfast sandwich from the deli next door. Tony was packing his gear into the Jeep and smiled as s
he crossed the parking lot with Fireball trotting beside her.

  “Morning,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

  She hadn’t, actually. She’d been up half the night thinking about that kiss. “Like a baby.”

  Wait. No. Wasn’t she supposed to stop glossing things over?

  “Actually, no.” She leaned back against the Jeep, forcing herself to hold eye contact. “I couldn’t stop thinking about last night.”

  He nodded slowly. “Getting a new pet is a big d—”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” She was really doing this. Being brave like Dr. O’Toole said. “I kept thinking about the kiss. The fact that you put an end to things so quickly.”

  Tony glanced down at the dog. “Technically, Fireball put an end to things.”

  “So, you wanted to kiss me.”

  “Well, yeah. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

  “Okay, so.” She kicked a pebble, wishing she was better at this direct-communication thing. Maybe that was the next chapter. “Did you want to stop kissing me?”

  “Not particularly.” He frowned. “But that seemed like the wise thing to do.”

  “Why?”

  He looked uncomfortable but didn’t glance away. “Because we’re best friends. Because we’ll be traveling together for another couple weeks, and it seems dumb to mess that up.”

  Well, hell. She couldn’t argue with that, could she?

  “Right. You’re right, of course.” With a sigh, she opened the passenger door. “Let’s go.”

  They didn’t speak as he pulled out of the parking lot. Not even on the way to the Humane Society, where Kayla patiently explained what had happened, then waited while the friendly volunteer called the original adopters and confirmed Kayla’s account of the story.

  The volunteer made a face as she hung up the phone. “It sounds like he’ll be much better off with you,” the woman whispered, slipping an extra handful of biscuits into the adoption kit. “Thank you for rescuing him.”

  “I’m the lucky one.” Kayla smiled as she gathered her things and the end of Fireball’s new red-and-white polka-dotted leash.

  Tony was by the front door, shoving a twenty through the slot on the top of the donation box. Kayla’s heart warmed in spite of itself. Why did he have to be so damned decent all the time?