At the mention of his fondest wish, the dog’s little body quivered and jumped with such delight he fell off the couch. Rose got up, smiling, put her coffee down and headed downstairs. She got on her sexy boots—he said they were sexy—and her coat, then remembered the dogs had outfits as well. She found them on one of the snowshoe hooks and, after a chase and a struggle, she finally got all three dogs in their little Fite Dog sweaters and their collars hooked to a bright yellow high-tech leash.
Out she went into the sunny, blinding day. Not windy, not too cold, just below freezing. The snow crunched under her boots, and patches of ice that had escaped the salt slowed her progress down the stairs.
Off to the right between the trees, Lake Tahoe glimmered as blue as the vintage tourism posters inside the house. She stared, surprised by its color, bluer than any body of water she’d ever seen.
Invigorated by the view and the snappy, fresh air, she gave the dogs a little more slack on the leash and stepped gingerly out into the road. Kids from the neighboring cabins were sledding down driveway snowdrifts and behind the houses, where a slope led to a creek.
She looked around for an adult, nervous to see freezing water at the end of the sled trail they’d made, but the child in head-to-toe Pepto-Bismol pink and her older brother in all black seemed to be alone.
The dogs, attracted to the children, tugged at the leash in that direction. Rose looked down at her boots and sighed. They weren’t designed for deep snow, but they weren’t expensive, either.
He said they were sexy.
Nevertheless, she took a deep breath and stepped off the paved road into the footprint-trampled snow between the houses, not surprised when she sank a foot lower than any of the children’s feet had done.
The dogs rollicked over the snow, trotting gracefully through the footprints, not sinking at all.
Feeling like a good citizen for appointing herself lifeguard to the unattended sledders, she watched with dismay as the children suddenly waved at the house, grabbed their pink and red plastic sleds, and jogged up the hill—and disappeared.
Now Rose stood up to her shins in snow halfway between the house and the creek. The dogs had the leashes taut, pulling her like a metronome from side to side as they moved as a pack. With her feet pinned in the snow, any moment now she was going to go down like a tree under a chainsaw.
“I should’ve taken one dog. One I could handle,” she muttered.
She decided to reel them in to reduce the torque. At first it worked—they were tiny animals, after all—but then Zeus slipped his narrow, odd-shaped head through his collar altogether and made a dash for the creek.
“Zeus!” Rose looked back at the house to see if anyone had returned, but no. “Bugger.”
With long, laborious strides, she staggered forward down the hill. She couldn’t let him fall in the water or get caught in a mini avalanche. Aside from her reputation with Trixie, she liked the dog too much to abandon him.
Seeing they were headed towards their leader, Luna and Europa strained forward, stopping when the trampled snow came to an end. They looked back and up at her, tongues lolling. Zeus hadn’t been so intimidated; he had scrambled up the snow bank and was now paddling through the fresh powder’s surface towards an enormous cedar.
“You crazy dog,” Rose said. It was like he was swimming in snow. “Zeus! Where are you going?”
Finally, Zeus reached the tree. He sniffed it, then lifted his tiny leg.
Rose scoffed and looked at the sky. “Can you believe that guy?” She asked Luna and Europa. She waited, then called him again. What would she lure him with?
All she had was herself. She made kissing noises, made her voice soft and high-pitched as she repeated his name, but he kicked up the snow and turned away.
He was far too close to the water for her comfort. She dropped the nice act and strode full-legged into the snow. This time, Luna and Europa stayed behind her; she had to let out the slack in the leash to chase after Zeus.
He was rolling around on top of the snowbank as if it were a dead skunk and he’d just had a bath. More than a little tired of the game, Rose increased her stride, arms outstretched and ready for capture. Just as she was about to grab his bony little dog body between her hands, he rolled away and, feet up in the air, suddenly vanished into the hungry snow.
* * *
Mark slammed the car door and eyed the house. It had taken superhuman powers not to stay at the house with her today. Just the two of them—
He’d glimpsed her in her nightgown as he passed her door.
Peachy, silky, transparent—
He’d given up around three. Who was he kidding? He’d never played hard to get in his life. He might as well pretend to be a kangaroo.
“Phew!” his mother said, getting out of the car with a smile on her face. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Every year I can feel my age creeping up on me more.”
Mark snorted. After snowshoeing for two hours, he’d been the one to ask for a break. “You kicked my butt, young lady.”
“You’re just distracted. Next time we’ll make it a threesome.” Eyes growing wide, she covered her mouth, laughing. “Snowshoeing, I mean. I wonder if she had a nice time here with my little guys. I bet she’s glad you’re back, though. Don’t worry, I’m going to change into some sweats and curl up with a book. And I’ll wear my earphones and close the door, so don’t worry about making any noise, though I did notice you chose the nice remote bedroom for her. You could set off a bomb in there and nobody would hear it.”
He glanced at the house. It had seemed so big when he bought it. Was it too late to buy another one?
They hauled the gear up the stairs and into the house. The door was unlocked.
“We’re home!” his mother called.
Mark bent over to unlace his boots, visions of peach satin flashing before his eyes. He hoped she’d just gone back to bed without getting dressed. Maybe she was curled up under the covers right this minute, soft, warm, sleepy, lonely.
“She must be out with the dogs,” his mother said. “You should go look for her.”
“The door was unlocked.”
“My little guys would be down here already to say hello if they were here. And their outfits are missing.”
He straightened, one boot off, one on. “You’re right.” He shoved his foot back inside the other boot and laced them as he hopped towards the door. “I’ll go keep her company.”
“I know you will, hon. Like I said, I’ll be dead to the world, so just pretend I’m not here.”
Shaking his head, he went back outside, scanning the road for a sign of a big, beautiful snow bunny with sexy boots and three well-dressed rats on a string.
The holiday weekend had drawn lots of people up to the lake; most of the driveways were filled with SUVs, pickups, sedans, the banks littered with kids’ plastic sleds set upright in the snow like a rainbow of tombstones.
Then he heard the yapping. Luna’s familiar pop-star soprano, ya ya ya ya ya ya ya, filtered up from the left, down by the creek.
Uneasiness pricked the back of his neck; he turned to stride away from the driveway into the snow, finding the footprints, children’s, dogs’, and one—much deeper—adult’s.
He saw her just as her head cleared the snowbank. One arm clawed at the powder, digging with the leash handle; her other arm hugged close to her body, not helping her at all to climb out of the hole she was in.
Later Mark wouldn’t remember how he got from the driveway to the creek’s snowbank, only that he was so damn slow. He saw the two dogs—Luna yapping, Europa whimpering—and then, finally, he was striding through the snow, only a body-length away.
“Stop!” Rose cried. “Not safe. It’s an overhang. The water’s just below us.”
His heart was pounding so hard in his ears he barely heard her. “Hold still. I’ll get a rope.”
“I’m almost there. Just… get the dogs,” she gasped.
He called them over
, caught the woven string between his fingers. “Let go of the leash. I’ve got them.”
Sighing with relief, she flung it at him across the snow. Bracing her forearm on the surface, she dug herself out another few feet, and then, Mark forcing himself to wait, she lifted her legs to the surface.
To his surprise, instead of pulling herself along on her stomach, she rolled onto her back and kicked herself towards him. Her head disappeared into the powder, yet she continued to snowplow herself along on her back, away from the creek, until he was able to reach her and help haul her completely to safety.
“Careful!” Panting for breath, she pushed his hands away from her body. “Zeus is under my coat. Dude needs his… toenails… clipped. Damn.”
She was caked with snow, head to foot. Even her eyelashes were spotted with white clumps.
He’d ask what happened later. “We need to get you inside.”
“Yeah. He’s shivering really bad.”
“I mean you.” He helped her to her feet, slung one arm over his shoulder. Luna and Europa were running around them, tangling their legs together with the leash. He bent down to unhook them. “These two need to go.”
“No! After what I did to save this one? Pick them up.”
He pulled her closer. “You need help.”
“I’m fine. It was Zeus.” She shook her head, dislodging a clump of snow from her hair onto her shoulder. “Please, just pick them up.”
He did as he was told and she unhooked the leashes. “You first,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t be so bossy if she were hypothermic. “But if you fall, I’m dumping these rats and carrying you.”
She didn’t say anything, just shook her head, plodded past him. Slowly, they tromped through the snow up to the house. He could see her knees buckle when they reached the clear, open surface of the driveway, but she waved him away when she tried to help.
“We need to get Zeus warmed up. He’s shaking really badly,” she said. But at the top of the stairs, she hesitated. “I’m covered with snow.”
He reached past her and shoved the door open. “No shit. You’re like the abominable girlfriend.”
That earned him a glance.
He stared, breathless. Blue, blue eyes. He’d never seen a color so beautiful.
“It’s your house,” she said softly, and went in.
Luna and Europa leapt out of his arms onto the floor and immediately jumped up to paw at her legs. He pushed them aside and bent down to unzip her boots. Her skin was so cold. He reached up for her jacket. “We’ve got to get you out of these clothes.”
“One-track mind,” she muttered, then gasped. “Oh, man. Being a hero sucks.”
She let him tear off the jacket while her arms took turns holding the bundle under her shirt. “Is your mom here? Zeus really needs some help but I don’t know what. He’s wet.”
Her own hands were shaking, her lips blue and trembling.
“Mother!” he shouted.
Luna and Europa gave up on Rose and scurried over to scratch at his mother’s bedroom door. Mark followed them and rapped harder.
No answer. With a sigh, he rattled the doorknob before sticking his head in.
True to her word, his mother, eyes closed, tucked under the covers up to her chin, had her black Dr. Dre headphones over her ears.
“Mom!”
She opened them, a half smile on her lips, then bolted upright when she sensed trouble. She tore the headphones off. “What happened?”
“Zeus fell in the creek. Rose got him.”
“Oh!” She jumped out of bed. “Where?”
“Here,” Rose said, slowly entering the room.
His mother’s eyes grew more alarmed. She rushed over and caught Rose’s face between her hands, glanced at Mark. “She’s frozen.”
“I know. You deal with Zeus, I’ll help her.”
Nodding, she stepped back to let Rose lift her sweater with shaking hands. Zeus, big-eyed, passive, and trembling, fell into his mother’s arms. His stumpy tail began to wiggle.
“You silly little man,” his mother said, clucking and cooing. “You’re not a St. Bernard.” Then she gave Mark a serious look. “Get her out of those clothes.”
“Really, what k-kind of… f-family is t-this?” Rose asked, attempting a smile.
He put his arm around her, marched her to the bathroom. Too bad his house didn’t have a sauna. He’d install one next week. Right now he’d get her in a hot shower, get some hot liquids in her.
To his credit, it took him another two seconds to think of what hot liquid he most wanted to put inside her.
He turned the water valve as hot as it would go to steam up the room, then turned his attention to getting her naked. Her head was lowered, her fingers fumbling with her jeans button. He took over and pushed the denim down, alarmed at the icy feel of her skin. Her socks were damp; he rolled those off, careful not to unbalance her. When she pulled up her sweater and T-shirt over her head, the breath went out of him. Her skin, her perfect skin, was scratched raw. Ragged red stripes from Zeus's panicked toenails covered her stomach, hips, chest.
“I’m going to kill that dog,” he said through his teeth.
“Don’t you d-dare.” She reached behind her to unfasten her bra but he got there first.
She was so cold. He caressed her back, her shoulders, her arms, willing her to warm up, massaging his own heat into her.
She wriggled out of the bra straps, gave him an amused look, and reached into the shower to test the water. “Are you trying to cook me? J-jeez. I’m not a l-lobster.”
“At least he didn’t get—all of you,” he said, staring at her breasts. They were islands of creamy perfection in an angry red sea.
“No time to take off the bra. I knew skin-to-skin contact was the best way to warm him up.” She turned the valve down a little, stepped in the stall, gasped.
He was already tearing off his own clothes to apply a little skin-to-skin therapy himself.
Chapter 29
THE HOT WATER STUNG THE scratches on her torso, but she didn’t care. It felt so damn good to be warm.
She remembered something about the danger of sending cold blood to her heart, but she hadn’t been outside that long and, unlike Zeus, she had plenty of natural insulation.
Her boots were ruined, though. She’d fallen into the creek. It was shallow, but wet was wet. Her toes tingled under the hot water, which she hoped was a good sign. To hell with her boots—she couldn’t buy new feet. Suddenly remembering the climbers on Mt. Everest with black toes, she bent over and massaged them while the water poured over her head.
The shower door opened; Mark’s foot appeared next to hers.
Not entirely surprised—okay, not surprised at all—she stood up, admiring him on the way up.
“Hi,” she said.
Eyes searching hers, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his long, hard body. He tilted her so the water fell on her back and shoulders, stroking his hands along her bottom, up her spine. “We need to get you warm.”
“Mmm.” She wriggled closer, put her cheek on his chest.
“Are you warm?”
She laughed against his chest hair. “Getting there.”
“When you are, let me know.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I want to chew you out for risking your life for my mother’s stray mutant.”
“Ah, honey, don’t put yourself down like that,” she said.
Growling, he caught her ass in both hands and ground closer. “I’m serious,” he said in her ear. “You’re too important.”
Important? “The creek’s about six inches deep.”
“There are rocks. You could’ve hit your head.”
She reached up and touched his temple. “I think you already did.”
Gazing at her, he moved back, pulling her eyes out of the spray of the water. “Yeah. Maybe I did.”
The feel of his erection on her belly began to appeal to her more than the hot water.
“I think I’m okay now.”
Frowning, he captured her hand, lifted it to his mouth. “Frostbite is serious.” One by one he sucked her fingers into his mouth. Around her thumb, he said, “I wouldn’t want to lose any of you. Not even an inch.”
Speechless, her muscles giving way to the massaging heat, the desire building inside her, she swayed against him.
He bent his head to her ear. “I want to get you in bed but I’m afraid you might get cold again.” His voice was low, rough. He kissed his way across her forehead to the other side. “I’ll have to make sure I keep you warm.” He sucked the earlobe into his mouth. “Hot.”
Her hand found the water valve at her back, shut it off.
He grabbed a towel he must’ve hung over the glass wall of the shower and draped it over her shoulders. Patting her skin, he stopped when he reached her chest, his eyes getting serious. “You need some first aid.”
“You need a towel.” She traced the water droplets on his muscled shoulder, over his collar bone. “You’re shivering.”
Shaking his head, he tightened her towel around her and stroked her hair. Water dripped down her back. “We’ll have to deal with your hair. You shouldn’t have a wet head.”
“I’m fine, Mark.”
“Look at this.” He frowned at her throat, his touch feather light on one of the scratches. “And this. I always hated that dog.” He leaned back, gently touching other marks, his jaw tight.
“He’s awesome, and worth a few scratches.” She pushed open the shower door, tugged free of his concerned grip to reach for another towel on the hook. She handed it to him but he squatted down and dried her legs with it.
“I’ll get you some hot tea, coffee, chocolate, everything,” he said.
Smiling, she watched him, naked and dripping wet himself, dab at her toes one by one with the thick, dark-green towel. She waited until he seemed satisfied before stepping away to finally get him a towel of his own.
He pushed it away. “You need one for that hair. It’s dripping. You’ll get cold again.”
“I’m getting cold looking at you.” She flung the towel around his shoulders and pulled it tight, smiling up at him, letting her own towel gape open in front.
ThisTimeNextDoor Page 30
