by Gregg Loomis
He knew self-sufficient women-lawyers, doctors, and the like-but he never seemed able to meet them unless they were already taken. In fact, there was a federal prosecutor, a petite redhead, he'd almost asked out before she appeared in court with a diamond of blinding quality and a size that skirted vulgarity. He told himself he was disappointed, but he knew what he felt was relief.
He was not particularly surprised, then, when the doorbell chimed just as he thought he had reached a decision as to which Healthy Choice dinner to nuke in the microwave. Another ready-to-eat something, delivered with a hopeful smile by another woman looking for a male life-support system.
Grumps, long used to the parade, normally favored the applicants with little more than a single open eye before returning to his twenty-three-hour-a day nap. This time, Lang could have sworn the mutt leapt into the air without touching the floor. Barking furiously, the dog nearly took Lang's feet out from under him in his rush to the door, where he stood on stubby hind legs while using the front two to frantically scratch the paint from the wood surface.
No doubt some woman had decided to seek intercession by Grumps and was delivering a bag of treats.
"Traitor!" Lang snorted at the frenzied animal.
He had barely cracked the door when Grumps used his head as a wedge to pry it wide and disappeared into the hall to dance wildly around Gurt's feet.
She put down a small suitcase to kneel and croon to the excited dog.
Lang simply stood there until she looked up.
"Langford, close your mouth. It is most unattractive hanging open."
"Grumps wrote and asked you to come back," he suggested with a grin.
She nodded toward the suitcase, both hands still on Grumps. ''You are not a gentleman? You would have me my own luggage carry?"
Still not sure he wasn't hallucinating, Lang reached out for the bag. "You came back to get something?"
She stood, brushing long black dog hairs from a pair of hip-huggers. "That could be said."
"What?"
She made a show of running salacious eyes over his body. "That is for you to discover."
He simply couldn't stand it any longer. Neither could she. They met just beside the door in an embrace that showed little chance of ending soon despite plaintive barking.
Finally inside, they stood on the small balcony overlooking the city.
"Gurt, have you decided…?"
She turned, putting a finger across his lips. "I decided I would rather teach rich kids to mangle German with you than track potential terrorists across Europe."
"Does that mean…? "
"It means just what I said, nichts andres. You must be satisfied with that."
And he was.
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