Eli glanced at her sitting next to him on a bench overlooking Dolores Park, the dog park where Roxanne and her friends met up three mornings a week. The afternoon sun was on her face. She looked composed and beautiful. He was almost relieved she didn’t look overly happy at the moment, because when that girl smiled, he could barely breathe. When she laughed, it was if his whole being strained to get closer to the sound.
“What?” she asked, now frowning severely. “Are you getting ready to tell me how much this is going to cost? Is that it?”
He laughed. “Uh, no. That’s not what I was thinking, but I suppose we should get that out of the way.”
As she probably already knew from her Internet browsing, Eli’s customary fee was between seven-fifty and three thousand, not including travel, and it could go much higher depending on the number of dogs in the family, the aggression level of the dogs involved, and whether he would be called to testify at a civil or criminal court hearing. Under normal circumstances, Roxie and Lilith’s case would land at the high end of the spectrum, because it involved a rescue dog with longstanding aggression issues, a dog bite case, an already scheduled appearance in vicious dog court, and probable civil action. But as Eli looked into those dark, doubtful eyes, he knew nothing about this case was normal. There was only one price he could charge for this assignment, and that was nothing at all.
They were acquaintances. She was a friend of Rick Rousseau’s, and Rick was his boss. Plus, there was something real interesting going on between Roxanne and himself, something that had to be resolved. So money would only muddy the waters. Money didn’t have a place here.
Besides, he’d never gone into a case with the dual hopes of saving the dog and bedding the owner, and if he were to be honest with himself, that’s exactly what was going through his head. No, it wasn’t a smart move, but he’d already admitted to himself that smarts had nothing to do with his instinctive response to Roxanne.
“I know you’re expensive,” she said, her voice sharp. “I don’t want any favors. Just tell me how much.”
Eli draped an arm over the back of the park bench, fully aware of how Roxie flinched at his friendly maneuver. He’d been studying her during their walk. She was about five eight, lean, with an elegant neck and liquid black eyes flecked with tiny sparks of gold. She had the sweetest little chin, and stunning cheekbones. Her waist was toned and she had the nicest kind of female bottom there was—not flat but not too big, not too wide but with a good amount of flair to the hips. And her hair—now that was really something extraordinary. It was long and shiny and black and he licked his lips at the thought of how it would feel cascading across his bare chest as she rolled with him, naked.
Yep, Roxanne Bloom was an exceptionally pretty woman—but she was wound up tighter than a two-dollar watch. He could see the spring-loaded tension in her shoulders and back. He noticed that even her most relaxed sitting posture featured balled fists and tightly crossed legs. Her jaw was clenched most of the time. She had a variety of nervous gestures, including sighing, flipping her hair over her shoulder, fiddling with the antique ring she wore on her left hand, swiveling her neck around until it cracked, and, on those occasions when she did relax her fists, she ended up drumming her nails on whatever surface was available—the tabletop, her thigh, the bench slats. Eli thanked God Roxie didn’t chew gum, because he was sure she’d be a smacker and a popper.
“My customary fee for this type of case would be at least three thousand,” he said, settling back into the bench and moving just an inch closer to her. He’d timed his maneuver so that in her shock she’d forget to move away.
“Say what?”
Eli smiled. “But I’m not charging you anything.”
He watched her blink a few times, squint her lovely eyes at him in suspicion, and flip her hair over her shoulder. Then she let out a laugh. “Oh, I don’t think so. Nuh-uh. I’ll definitely be paying you.” She scooted away to reclaim her buffer zone. “I don’t want any gray area with you, Eli. No favors. No way. This is a business proposition. I need your professional help, and I will pay for it like everyone else does.”
He nodded, aware that he’d encountered yet another of Roxie’s emotional land mines. The woman’s psyche was littered with them. He’d take care to tread lightly. “But you aren’t everyone else, and that’s my point. You and I know each other.”
“Hardly,” she said, cutting him off.
“I would feel uncomfortable if money were exchanged.”
“And I would feel uncomfortable if it weren’t.”
Eli sighed, feeling a small smile creep onto his face. “Look, Roxie, can we clear the air between us first, before we go any further?”
Her frown intensified. She moved another inch away. “There’s nothing to clear.”
God, but this woman was hardheaded! Eli took a moment to breathe. Focus. “Do you want my help?”
Roxie shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.”
“Do you want to work together to ensure that Lilith can be calm and happy?”
She sighed. “Of course I do.”
“Then there can’t be resentment or distrust between the two of us. If there is, Lilith will sense it.”
Roxie laughed a little. “Yeah, I read all about that online. You think that dogs pick up on the anger or nervousness of their owners.”
“I know so.”
“Fine,” she said.
“In fact …” Eli paused before he stepped over the line between acquaintance and teacher, but the time had definitely come. “If you want Lilith to stay calm and feel safe, then you have to show her how to do it. She takes her cues from you, Roxie.”
She blinked. She looked offended, as if he’d insulted her. That meant she was following along just fine.
“The truth is, Lilith is unsettled and insecure because you are, Roxanne. She doesn’t know there’s another way to be in the world.”
“Excuse me?” She flipped her hair again and drummed her fingers on her tightly crossed leg.
“She doesn’t want to be filled with anxiety. No dog does. Lilith longs for a better way, and, as her pack leader, it’s up to you to show her that path.”
Roxanne’s dark eyebrows arched high on her forehead. She leaned forward as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard come out of his mouth. “Eli,” she said, her tone obviously held in check with a great deal of effort. “Lilith was a mess when I got her, right? Beaten. Starved. Scared. Lost. She’s always hated men because she was abused by one. I’m the one who saved her. I didn’t do any of this shit to her. She came this way. You do understand that, right? God! I thought you’d worked with rescue dogs before!”
Eli nodded slowly. At this point in their conversation, every bit of knowledge and experience he desperately wanted to share with her came to a screeching halt in his head, like rush hour traffic in San Francisco. And it would be a long while before things started moving again.
This was not the time to explain to Roxie that dogs don’t carry around emotional scars from the past the way humans do, that they live in the moment. True, dogs may develop conditioned responses, but nearly all their behavior is based on the current pack dynamic and not some past trauma. He knew she wasn’t ready to hear that her dog’s anxiety and fear was just a reflection of her own, that the problem wasn’t that Lilith hated men—the problem was that Roxanne hated men and Lilith was simply picking up on the fear, anger, and mistrust her owner had whenever a man was around.
If he told her this right now, she’d argue with him. She might even back away from the process. And the dog would lose out in the end.
So Eli would go slow enough to avoid overwhelming her but fast enough to get Lilith cleared of vicious dog status at the hearing in less than two weeks. That’s what this was all about in the first place—keeping the dog from being destroyed.
“Roxanne, I need you to do something for me.”
She cocked her head and clenched her jaw.
“You’ve got to trust me.
There’s no way around it.”
Roxanne was silent and still.
“I am here because I want to help you and your dog, but you must trust me and do what I say. If you don’t, I might as well get right back on that plane because there’s no point in even starting.”
Slowly, Roxanne’s spine began to soften. She leaned back into the bench, so careful with her movements it looked like she was in pain. She sighed deeply. When she spoke, her voice was so soft Eli could barely hear it. “I want to, but don’t know if I can.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Eli said, smiling. He fought the need to reach for one of her small, soft hands. God, he wanted to touch her again, but he knew he couldn’t.
“I realize you didn’t go looking for this,” he said, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “I know the last thing in the world you want is some man insisting that you let him into your head and your heart, but I’ll be real straight with you. That’s what you have to do to save Lilith. So you can do it with me or you can do it with somebody else—and maybe finding a woman to help you would be the smartest move—but that’s what it’s going to take.”
Roxie nodded but quickly looked away. “Do you know any woman dog whisperers in town?”
“I know there are a few, but I don’t know them personally and I’m not in a position to recommend their approaches.” Eli paused a moment. “But I’ll make some calls if you’d prefer that route.”
“I just want Lilith out of that horrible place,” Roxanne said, fighting back tears, her face still turned away. “I just want her home with me.”
“Ah. Well, that just happens to be the easy part.” Eli reached into his front jeans pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This is Lilith’s release form. All you have to do is go pick her up at Animal Control anytime before five P.M.”
“What?” Roxie spun around on the bench and ripped the form from Eli’s fingers. “But they told me I had to get approval before I could pick her up, some kind of release signed by the magistrate!”
“That’s what you’re holding,” Eli said, nodding at the yellow computer printout. “I pulled a few strings. I told them I’d be responsible for Lilith’s behavior so she can stay home until the hearing, which should be enough time for us to turn things around.”
“You mean …” Roxanne choked on her words, stunned. “I can go get her? Today? Now? You bailed her out for me?”
Eli laughed a little. “You are free to pick her up at Animal Control at Fifteenth and Harrison, but you have to sign for her and agree to enroll her in—”
Roxanne threw herself into Eli’s arms and grabbed him tight. He could feel every curve and muscle in her body. He had to struggle to keep his hands off her. Good God, she felt so fucking good against him he nearly groaned with the pleasure of it. While she hugged him, he reminded himself again why this was not a wise idea: his priority was finding his father; he’d be moving back to Utah as soon as he did; and he wasn’t interested in getting involved with another woman who’d expect him to be calm and serene twenty-four/seven, a dog whisperer in the world and a lapdog at home.
“Thank you, Eli. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Her warm breath tickled him as she muttered into his right ear. “I don’t want to find someone else. Let’s do this. Thank you so much.” Suddenly, Roxanne pulled away, looked into his eyes, grabbed his face hard, and planted a kiss right on his lips.
The kiss went from zero to sexual in an instant, just the way it had out by Rick’s paddock two days before. Eli knew what Roxie had intended the kiss to be—a friendly peck, a spontaneous burst of joy and gratitude. No more. But the hunger flared between them immediately, hot and intense and wild. And now her lips had parted and his tongue began to explore the silky heat inside her mouth and his Stetson got knocked off his head and hit the dirt. When exactly did her thigh get wrapped around his waist like that? How was it that all that gorgeous hair of hers got twisted up in his hands?
Dear God, who was this woman? What was she doing to him? What were they doing to each other?
Breathless, dizzy, shocked, it ended. Roxie leaned back and stared at him, her eyes filled with tears and a thousand questions of her own. She wiped her mouth with a trembling hand. Eli did the same.
“I didn’t mean for that to get so, you know, wild,” she said.
Eli laughed in surprise. “Holy shit,” he muttered.
“I’ll go get Lilith now. At the animal place. Fifteenth and Harrison, right? Right.” Roxie jumped up from the bench and stood in front of him, the paper clutched in her hand. She started to leave but pivoted back around, and with an awkward lurch forward she kissed his cheek, then bent down to retrieve his hat. She brushed off some of the dirt and stuck it back on his head. “Sorry about that. Anyway … so we’ll start tomorrow?”
He nodded. She ran off down the hill.
“See you tomorrow,” Eli said, but she was too far gone to hear him.
Chapter 6
“Where’s Lilith?” Bea stood at the top of the hill at Dolores Park with Ginger at her side, waiting for Roxanne to reach them. “I thought our girl got parole!”
“She’s at home,” Roxanne said, approaching her friends, watching Martina and HeatherLynn romp on the dog park’s grassy hillside. “I won’t be bringing her out until this whole thing blows over.”
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Ginger reached out and hooked arms with Roxanne. “Are you holding up okay?”
Roxanne nodded.
“Have you heard anything more from Raymond Sleazeberg?” Bea asked.
“Not yet.” Roxanne let out a sigh she knew sounded too pessimistic, even for her. “But I will. He won’t be satisfied with the vicious dog case and the misdemeanor criminal charges. He’ll come after me for damages, no question.”
So far, Lilith’s outburst had resulted in charges of harboring a vicious animal, which brought an automatic $500 fine plus court costs for the hearing in two weeks. Roxanne knew it would be a mistake to think Raymond wouldn’t sue her for every penny she had.
Ginger pulled Roxie tighter to her bulbous body. “One step at a time,” she said reassuringly.
“Fuck the old buzzard,” Bea said, draping an arm over Roxanne’s shoulder as they began to walk.
Roxie knew why she’d come to the dog park that morning, even without Lilith. She needed her friends. So much was changing in their lives. Once the babies came, it would all change some more. But right then—on that morning—Roxanne needed the comfort and reassurance of her best friends and a routine that felt familiar and safe.
Roxie’s head suddenly snapped up. She’d only then realized Josie wasn’t with them. “Hey, where’s—”
“Everything is just fine,” Bea said, smiling sweetly and patting Roxie’s back as she preempted the question. “Josie is just great.”
Roxie jolted to attention. The tender optimism in Bea’s voice sounded downright unnatural. Something was wrong. “Tell me what’s going on,” Roxanne demanded.
“Josie’s fine, really,” Ginger said. “She’s just not feeling too great this morning. She told me she thought she better stick close to home for a few days until she knows what’s going on.”
Roxanne’s pulse spiked. Her breath came sharply. She stopped walking. “Is it the baby? Is something wrong with the baby? Is something wrong with Josie?”
“God, no,” Bea said, waving off her concern. “She’s just getting some of those Taylor Hicks contractions.”
Ginger shook her head. “My God, Bea. Taylor Hicks is the guy from American Idol, not a medical condition.” Once she’d finished laughing, she turned back to Roxanne. “They’re called Braxton Hicks contractions. They’re a kind of false labor, or prelabor pain, and it’s perfectly natural to have them in your last trimester. I had them all the time in the weeks before the boys were born.”
Hearing all that made Roxanne feel a little better, since Ginger, also the mother of twin teenagers from her first marriage, surely knew what she was talking a
bout. But Roxie had been so preoccupied with her own crisis that she hadn’t heard Josie’s voice since their ER vigil two days before. She had no way to verify that all was well. “But if these contractions are so normal, then why isn’t she here?”
“Because she’s a little jumpy,” Ginger answered her with a soft smile.
“It’s her first, you know,” was Bea’s observation. “She’s not an old pro like Ginger.”
“Please don’t call me old,” Ginger said wearily, rubbing her distended tummy. “In about two weeks I have to fake the strength and flexibility of someone half my age.”
Bea snorted. “You’ll do just fine, Mrs. Montevez,” she said, grinning, getting them all walking at a steady clip again. “But there is something going on up at the ranch that concerns me.”
“My God, what?” Roxanne asked.
“Oh, Bea’s just referring to Rick and Teeny,” Ginger said. “They’re not exactly helping Josie relax, you know?”
“How do you mean?” Roxanne asked. “The last I heard they were spoiling her absolutely rotten.”
“Well, it may be too much of a good thing,” Ginger said cautiously. “Rick’s been working at home so he’ll be there when she goes into labor. He doesn’t go in to the office anymore. In fact, he won’t leave her side. He’s got her all packed for the hospital already.”
“That doesn’t sound bad,” Roxanne said. “It sounds like he’s just being responsible. And really sweet.”
Bea laughed. “Yeah, but Teeny has the back of the SUV outfitted into a mobile maternity ward.”
Roxanne laughed. “What?”
“The guy’s an absolute wreck,” Bea continued, shaking her head. “He’s gone to every one of their Lamaze classes and now’s he’s freaking out that Josie will deliver before he can get everybody into the city. So he’s bought a ton of books on home childbirth and ordered something called an ‘emergency birth kit’ off the Internet.”
Not That Kind of Girl Page 7
