You Can Have My Heart, but Don't Touch My Dog

by Dixie Cash

  Was she serious? Casting her a skeptical look, Nick took a seat in her chair. A newspaper lay on the counter with a headline about John Wilson not being released from jail after all. Nick had seen that report on this morning’s TV news, but he hadn’t seen it in a newspaper. He picked up the paper.

  “Do you know that guy?” Edwina asked, draping him with a black plastic cape.

  “I know about him and the murder he’s accused of. Midland is more like a small town than a city. Home invasion and murder are a big deal.”

  “The dude’s confessed,” Debbie Sue said.

  “But he’s recanted his confession.” Nick replied. “With all of the publicity the case has had, a jury might find him not guilty.”

  Debbie Sue assumed a sagely demeanor. “Just because he might get found not guilty doesn’t mean he’s innocent.”

  “True enough,” Nick agreed. “He sounds like a tough customer. The evidence against him was pretty damning even without the DNA results. You ladies are interested in that crime?”

  “We’re interested in all crime,” Debbie Sue said. “We’re detectives. Didn’t you see our sign out front? Your boss’s former wife was our customer a few years back. Pearl Ann Carruthers. She was murdered and we found the killer.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “Are we shampooing you today?” Edwina asked.

  Uh-oh. That was an abrupt change in direction. Evidently the aunt didn’t want to discuss their adventures as detectives. “Nope. Already did that at home. I can’t see myself getting my hair washed in a beauty shop.”

  “Too bad.,” Debbie Sue said. “Ed would give you a shampoo you’d never forget.”

  Edwina picked up a squirt bottle and doused his hair with water. “You’re out early.”

  “Headed for Midland. I’m getting my new pup today. I want to spend the weekend bonding with him. Already got him a new doghouse, a new bed, some new toys and dishes and a new collar.

  Nick had bought new puppy supplies that would stay at his place in Midland. With a heavy heart, he had thoroughly cleaned his old dog house at the Flying C for the new puppy to occupy when they were at the ranch. Buster was gone. It was time to move on.

  “Aww. Really?” Debbie Sue said. “That’s sweet. I love dogs. I’ve got three myself.”

  “Oh, yeah? What kind?”

  “Strays. They just showed up and I kept them. Now they’re like my kids.”

  “I know what you mean. Yep, the new dog’s gonna be a good one. Still haven’t thought of a name for him though.” He had been trying for days to think of a name to give the new puppy, but nothing had come to him yet.

  “Male or female?”

  “Male.”

  Snipping away at his hair, Edwina looked at her partner and said, “Okay, we gotta come with a name for Nick’s new dog.”

  From the wooden cage in the corner, the parrot said, “Awrrk! Felix. You’re such a dog, Felix.”

  “Felix?” Nick said. “Did he say Felix?”

  The bird followed up with what could only be described as gasping. “Felix. ... Oh, yes, that’s it. Touch me there. ... Yes! Yes! Yes! Right there ...”

  A pregnant pause followed. Warmth crept up Nick’s neck. He angled a look toward the parrot.

  Finally, Debbie Sue spoke. “See? We told you. He knows what we’re talking about. I mean about naming your dog,” she added quickly.

  Nick laughed, relieved to get past the awkward moment. “Get outta here. A parrot might learn a few words, but no way does he know what they mean.”

  “Seriously,” Debbie Sue said. “He’s scary smart. And he mimics everything he hears. Dogs barking, coyotes howling. He yowls like Ed’s cat and makes her think Gus is hurt. She drops everything and chases after the cat. We’ve already made a pact not to discuss anything confidential in front of him. The last thing we need is for him to repeat what he hears in here. Our customers do talk about secret stuff from time to time.”

  Nick laughed again. He left the Styling Station with a good haircut and an upbeat mood. Sandi’s aunt and her partner were fun. As he drove, he idly wonder-ed if he might run into Sandi again. She had seemed to be friends with the woman who owned the Pampered Pooch.

  Chapter 11

  Before opening her shop every day, Sandi sprayed her display cases with a mixture of vinegar and water and wiped them down so that they sparkled. She and Waffle played a game. He pressed his nose to the case, leaving a nose print. Swiping it away with her cloth, she laughed. “Waffle, did you know you’re my best friend?”

  The dog began to wag his long tail furiously, stretching his grin even wider. Sandi laughed so hard she barely heard the phone behind the counter.

  When she picked up, Prissy greeted her with a whispery, out-of-breath voice. “He’s here. He’s picking up the baby.”

  Sandi’s insides lurched. She didn’t have to be told that the “he” was Nick Conway, even though she and Prissy hadn’t had a conversation about him since the day they both met him. Scarcely a day had past that Sandi hadn’t thought of Nick, but she had deliberately avoided passing on to Prissy the gossip Fiona had told her. She hadn’t want to share such intimate details.

  Keeping him in her mind as an erotic escape was one thing, but knowing he was a few doors up from where she stood sent a tremble from her head to her toes.

  “Are you going to come up here and see him?”

  The insistence in Prissy’s voice brought her back to the moment. “Heavens, no. Why are you whispering?”

  “Because he’s in the next room. Come on up here.”

  “Why would I do that, Prissy?”

  “Because when I told you he was here you stopped breathing, I mean you stopped breathing. I could hear it. I remember feeling that way when I was your age. I ended up married to him.”

  Sandi gave a little grunt of impatience. “I don’t know why you think that. Trust me, I’m still breathing. I don’t like him, Prissy. Have you forgotten I have a boyfriend? I’m not coming up there. Gotta run—”

  “If you’re not gonna come up here, I’m gonna send him down—”

  “Prissy, no. That isn’t necessary.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m sending him and Randy down to your shop for some treats.”

  “Who’s Randy?”

  “He named the puppy Randy. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “Randy, the cow dog? Wow. That has a real poetic ring to it.”

  Sandi heaved a sigh, accepting the inevitable. “Well I’m here and I’m open and I want to sell my stuff. He can come shopping any time just like any of my customers. But, I warn you, Prissy. He’d better not waste my time. He’d better buy something.”

  The minute she hung up, Sandi dashed to her tiny bathroom, ran a brush through her hair, checked her eye makeup and touched up her lipstick. The last time Nick had seen her, she had been a bawling, makeup-smeared mess. She intended for him to see her as the bank’s customers used to see her—an attractive, well-put-together professional woman who had control of her circumstances.

  She was bothered that a cowboy with whom she had nothing in common caused such a reaction within her. Not because there was a possibility of anything developing between them, but because a woman with a boyfriend shouldn’t have those thoughts about another man.

  Even if her ex-husbands hadn’t been fully vested, in their relationships, she had been. If you truly cared about someone, another person couldn’t make you feel things. Sexual things you should share only with your steady beau. Was it just John Wilson’s trial that had cooled her attraction to Richard? Or was it a total lack of chemistry between them. God, she wished she had some answers.

  Next, she grabbed a leash from the hook beside the phone. “Come on, Waff. You need to go outside and potty.”

  Once outside, Sandi led Waffle to a grassy area in the vacant lot behind the strip center where he could relieve himself.

  A deep male voice came from inside her store. “Hellooo? Anybody here?”

  Damn that Priss
y. “Hold on,” she shouted back. “I’ll be right there.”

  Sandi walked briskly through the back doorway, unhooked Waffle’s leash and closed him in the back room. Then she entered her showroom. She recognized the customer immediately. It was him, all right. Damn it all to hell, it was him. Hard body, tight jeans, cowboy hat and boots. And cradled in his arms was the golden puppy and it was sound asleep.

  She mustered her composure and tried to speak as if her heart weren’t pounding. “Hi. Can I help you? I was out back with my dog. I see you have your baby, uh, I mean puppy.”

  She had momentarily forgotten the sweet loveable puppy was only a dog to him.

  “Yep,” he said, looking down at the sleeping puppy. “He’s taking a nap. The lady at that grooming shop told me you might have some stuff I’ll need. You weren’t feeling well the last time I saw you. You okay now?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I was just upset that day. I get attached to all of the animals I care for.”

  He looked around. “So this is your store, huh?”

  “Indeed it is.” She gestured around the showroom. “What would you like?”

  “Maybe we could try some of that homemade dog food you were bragging about.”

  “Absolutely.” She whisked a menu and price list from a holder on the wall. “LaBarkery pet food has no chemical additives. It’s good for puppies as well as adult dogs. I also sell treats. Very healthy, easily digested—”

  He pointed at her refrigerated display cases and the layer cakes that looked to be frosted with chocolate. “This looks like human food. Is that cake really for an animal?”

  “Sure is. But you could eat it, too, if you were so inclined. We can discuss what it’s made of if you’re interested.”

  “All homemade, huh?”

  “Every day. By me and my two employees.” Sandi couldn’t tell if he was impressed or making fun. “The decorations are more for the owners than the pets. Not to eat themselves. I mean, they could, but they like them for their dogs and cats. Some of my customers have a special bond with their pets and they get a kick out of spoiling them.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, looking around the store again. “And I guess all these clothes and hats and such are the owners’ idea too.”

  He wasn’t the first customer to come into her store and scoff at the costumes on the shelves, some adorned with ruffles and bling. In this part of the country, some men in particular saw dogs as ranch hands or guard dogs and cats as barn cats. Others enjoyed dressing their pets in costumes. She usually took the mocking in stride, but this guy was yanking her chain.

  “Tell you what,” she said schooling her voice to be steady and laying the menu aside. “Let’s look at some plain leashes for this little guy. You don’t want to lose him. He’ll be in the running away stage until you get him trained.”

  “I already got a leash. How about a muzzle? I forgot to get one when I was in PetSmart the other day.”

  Muzzle! Had he said muzzle? Surely she had heard wrong. Sandi steadied herself. “Why would you need a muzzle? He’s only a puppy.”

  “And he’ll be a dead puppy if he gets around horses or cows and starts barking and raising hell. I’ve got to train him not to bark around the pens that have livestock in them. It’s for his own safety.”

  The sound of the back doorbell and the unmistakable click of Waffle’s toenails on the tile floor caught her attention. Of course he could open the door. His entrance was the only thing that saved her from breaking into a tirade against this dumb cowboy for what she felt were cruel methods of training.

  Looking back, she smiled at her dog. “Hey, Waff, come see the baby.”

  Without warning, this stranger stepped toward Waffle. “Buster? Buster, is that you?”

  Waffle let out a pitiful whine. He looked up at her, then back at the cowboy as if he was confused. His long tail began to whip and before she knew it, the puppy’s new owner had handed her the sleeping baby and dropped to a squat near her knee. “Buster? Buster? C’mere, buddy.”

  Waffle charged forward as if he’d been shot from a cannon. He reared up and placed his front paws on Nick’s shoulders, licking and whimpering and pushing him onto his back. He began to feverishly lap at Nick’s face.

  Nick scruffed his head and neck, wrapped his arms around his neck and hugged him. “It is you, buddy. It’s you. Where have you been?”

  Sandi had to take a step backward to keep from getting caught in the fray. In her wildest imaginings, she could not have foreseen what was taking place before her eyes. “Waffle! Waffle! Stop that! Bad dog!” She grabbed his collar and with great effort, pulled him back. “What are you doing? Bad dog.”

  Barking, the dog broke away from her and barked and danced and bounced around the room, then returned to Nick, who lay back on the floor propped on one elbow and laughing. “I taught him to do that little dance. He still remembers.”

  Sandi stood glued to the floor. Clearly Waffle knew Nick, but the lout couldn’t possibly mean anything to her precious Waffle.

  Still cradling the sleeping puppy, she reached down and yanked her dog back by his collar again. “Waffle! Settle down, boy, settle down.”

  Nick got to his feet, still laughing. He had lost his hat and she noticed his dark blond hair, mussed and slightly wavy. And he did have the nicest eyes and they showed a glimmer of wetness. Tears?

  She thrust the puppy back to him, his hands came out reflexively and he cradled it in one arm. “I’m sorry he did that,” she said. “He loves everyone who comes in the shop, but I’ve never seen him get so excited. He must have smelled—”

  “Ma’am. Stop.” Nick raised a hand, showing her his palm. His eyes held an intense look. “Just stop.”

  A feeling of dread crept up Sandi’s spine. Some kind of nightmare was unfolding.

  “Ma’am, that’s my dog. The one I told you I lost. It was about nine months ago, just after I went to work for the Flying C.” He bent and picked up his hat. “Man, I can’t believe this. I’d given up ever finding him.” He clapped the hat on his head, then pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed at his eyes. He shook his head, then looked at her, his beautiful eyes alight with utter joy. “How long have you had him?”

  Sandi could not let herself be distracted. She tilted her chin. “For a while. Quite a while, actually. Since he was a puppy.”

  He shook his head again. “Man, oh man. To think he’s been this close all this time.”

  What? He didn’t believe her? “You have to be mistaken. Waffle’s my dog. He’s part of me and part of my store. You can ask anyone.”

  “You saw his reaction—”

  “I saw him get excited. That’s not exactly something I haven’t seen him do before.”

  A lie. Waffle never acted out. Lying was the only defense in this desperate situation.

  Nick’s handsome face morphed into a stare of incredulity. Then he smiled a killer smile. “Tell you what. I’m extremely grateful that you found him and that you’ve taken such good care of him. This little puppy’s the same golden color. He’s gonna be a pretty dog when he grows up. And you obviously like him. How ’bout you take him? I’ll take Buster off your hands and we’ll call it an even trade.”

  “I would never trade Waffle to someone like you,” she snapped, a death grip on Waffle’s collar.

  Nick’s fist reflexively jammed against his hip. “What do you mean, someone like me?”

  “I’ve never muzzled him or left him to sleep outside or treated him like an... an...”

  “Like a dog?” Nick finished.

  Close to sputtering, all Sandi could manage was, “I love Waffle and he loves me.”

  “Look, I apologize for coming across wrong. I got overexcited when I realized I’d found my dog.” His deep voice almost became a purr. Sexy and seductive. “I know that women who are alone tend to get involved with their pets, especially if they don’t have much social life or kids to take care of and—

  “What? You know nothing abo
ut me. About my life.”

  “Now don’t get upset. I asked the woman who gave me this puppy about you. She told me you’re divorced and don’t have any kids, so you give all your love to animals.”

  Such a rage raced up Sandi’s spine her head might explode and her eyes might burst from their sockets. She squelched the powerful urge to grab her head with both hands in case that very thing happened. She would kill that Prissy dead, dead, dead the very next time she saw her. “Prissy Porter discussed me and my personal life with you?” Her voice had become as shrill as a harpy’s. “Why, in all my life, I’ve never been—”

  “Now, calm down.” Nick patted the air with his hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. What I mean is, you said you were in love with a parrot, too. What that says to me is you throw that “love” word around pretty freely. Maybe you need a boyfriend or something.”

  That was the last straw. “What?” She sank to the floor on her knees beside Waffle and wrapped protective arms around his neck. Summoning her dignity, she set her jaw and lifted her nose. “I’d like for you to leave my store, Mr. Conway.”

  “But —”

  “I’d hate to call the police, but I will.” She leveled a searing stare at him that said she meant business. But it was hard to be tough when she was sitting on the floor and he stood six feet tall above her. Their stares locked.

  “Okay, I’ll leave,” he snapped. “But I’ll be back. Buster is my dog and you can’t refuse to give him to me.” He reached down and stroked Waffle’s head, putting only inches between her face and his. “Don’t worry, Buster,” he said to Waffle. “I’ll be back to rescue you.”

  He straightened and stepped back. Waffle sprang forward. Even with all her strength, Sandi barely held him in check. She scrambled to her feet, still hanging onto his collar. “We’ll see about that. Have you ever heard possession is nine-tenths of the law?”

  He glared at her. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever heard a picture’s worth a thousand words?”

  He turned and stalked out of her shop. The minute he cleared the doorway, she shoved the deadbolt into place and hung up the CLOSED sign. Her heart pounded as she watched him climb into his pickup, still holding the puppy as he drove away. Waffle whined and fidgeted and barked.