by Debbie Burns
“Turbo and Tyson. They’re great names. I love them.”
Although Sophie hadn’t committed, she seemed to be leaning toward adopting Tyson, the smaller of the two beagles, if her house sold quickly and he was still at the shelter. If she became serious enough about him, Megan would remove him from adoption for her. She suspected Sophie was hesitant to make a decision after the struggle she’d had with Hershey. She hoped the adoption success stories Sophie overheard at the shelter would boost her confidence.
At least her mom was open to fostering. And tonight would be good. It would help Sophie if she could bond with the dog she ended up choosing before making such a big commitment.
Within a few minutes, both puppies had peed and pooped. Sophie scooped them into her arms, while Megan grabbed the crate. The wide stairs leading to the house required two full steps each. They would’ve made a regal setting for Sophie and her first homecoming.
“So tonight, when they’re awake, I’d keep them in your kitchen since you said it’s tile. And they’re used to spending most of the day in their crate, so when they get tired, don’t feel bad when you crate them. They’re still gaining strength too.”
“Thanks so much for trusting me to do this. Especially after the way I failed with Hershey.”
“Oh, Sophie, you didn’t fail. Puppyhood’s never easy. It’s hard work even for the best trainers out there. I’m no expert, but when the time is right and you make your decision, hopefully I can teach you a few tricks to make it easier. I brought you a few books to read.”
“Maybe my mom will read them too.” Sophie headed through the open door as they reached the top. “She’s pretty tense because the house is going for sale Friday.” She rolled her eyes and motioned Megan in. “Everything has to be perfect. But at least she’s still okay with me trying again after we move.”
Megan managed to keep her mouth shut as she walked in behind Sophie. Though she was expecting impressive, her jaw still went slack.
The foyer’s marble floors gave way to a massive great room that could belong in a governor’s mansion or something similar. It was decorated to the nines. Megan couldn’t imagine anyone actually sitting on the perfectly appointed furniture. The room was remarkable, to say the least. But she couldn’t help but wonder where the living in the house was done.
Without pausing, Sophie headed straight for what looked like a dream kitchen through the passageway to the right. It was dimly lit, and classical music was playing through a set of Bose-quality speakers.
Although Sophie hadn’t asked, Megan slipped off her shoes and tucked them by the door before following her. She didn’t want to leave the only shoe prints this place had ever seen.
She didn’t see Jillian anywhere and wondered if it was too much to hope she’d get out of here without running into her. She’d seen her at the shelter a few times but had a feeling Jillian wouldn’t recognize her if they ran into each other in public. She was beautiful and severe and intimidating. It was hard to match Sophie—with her sweet, friendly expression, stocky build, and the freckles speckling the bridge of her nose—with her mother.
At least to Megan, Jillian seemed anything but welcoming.
Turning her attention to the work at hand, Megan scanned the kitchen. The passageway to the great room—or whatever that room was called—was very wide, and there didn’t seem to be a way to partition off the massive kitchen. Instead of a training session, it would be puppy pandemonium.
“This kitchen is the prettiest kitchen I’ve ever seen, but it’s also enormous, and I don’t see a way to easily block off a training area. I don’t suppose you have a smaller spot where they’ll have minimal distractions while we practice a few things before I leave you to them?”
Sophie nodded enthusiastically. “Follow me. I know just the place.”
Chapter 11
“Sophie? Soph, where are you?” Jillian’s voice pierced the closed door from down the hall.
Megan silently admonished herself for allowing Sophie to talk her into doing the puppy training in this room, of all the rooms in this massive house. When she’d agree to it, she’d envisioned it totally empty, but it wasn’t. Some of Craig’s things were still in here, and seeing them felt a bit stalkerish.
Oblivious to Megan’s turmoil, Sophie reached up and threw the door open. “In here, Mom.”
Megan listened to heels click on tile, then fall mute along the carpet, then click again as Sophie’s mother reached the bathroom tile that butted up against Craig’s clothes closet.
“Sophie,” Jillian said, “why do you insist on playing in your father’s closet?” She rounded the corner, and her eyes widened at the sight of Megan sitting crossed-legged on the floor across from Sophie. “Oh. I forgot you were coming tonight.”
“I reminded you after school, Mom.”
Jillian pulled a curtain of hair over her shoulder and rolled one foot around the axis of her three-inch heel. “That’s right, you did, but you know I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. Why are you working with those puppies in here?”
“The kitchen was too open. This is the only place where the floor is tile and they can’t crawl under something or start chewing something up. Besides, whatever Dad didn’t take is hanging up or in drawers. And since it’s still here, I doubt he wants it anyway.” Sophie reached out and stroked Tyson’s silky ear. Content for the moment, he was sprawled on his back, chewing on a rope while his bigger brother nipped at his tail.
“They are cute. I’ll give you that.” Jillian released a long breath as she looked them over. “Well, I guess your father doesn’t live here to object, so use the closet if you’d like. However, I’m grimy and sweaty from all the packing I’ve been doing, and I was hoping for a relaxing shower before dinner and I don’t want to block you in. If you’re working in here, I’ll use the one in the guest bedroom.” Her gaze flicked back to Megan. “Did Sophie offer you something to drink?”
“Yes, thanks. I’m fine. I just finished showing her a few pointers.”
Feeling like an idiot sitting crossed-legged on the closet floor, Megan resisted the urge to stand up. It would only make her feel more confined, holed up like they were. She did her best not to stare at Jillian. In addition to the heels that showed off perfectly polished red toenails, she was tall. Impressively so. At the shelter, Megan hadn’t realized it. And she held herself with such confidence. She towered over them in matching lululemon yoga pants and a halter that exposed a bronze and beautifully toned midsection.
Because who doesn’t wear three-inch heels and lululemon to pack?
“I appreciate you dropping them off and for helping Sophie so much. Was I supposed to have a check ready for you?”
Did she know about her ex-husband’s donation yet? Would she care? Megan felt her cheeks grow warm as she closed the treat bag. “There’s no fee for fostering, and I was just giving Sophie some pointers. I’m not a professional trainer.”
“She’s really good, Mom,” Sophie said, crawling over to wiggly Turbo and pulling him onto her lap. “A lot of things make so much more sense now.”
“That’s great, sweetie.”
Feeling like the newest addition in a terrarium, Megan tried not to notice Jillian’s gaze sliding over her body as she stood. Her hands closed automatically over her outer thighs—thighs that suddenly seemed to have doubled in size. “Sophie, did you want me to show you how to fix their food before I leave?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” Sophie pushed up and draped Turbo and Tyson over her shoulders, then burst into giggles as Tyson licked her neck.
Jillian laughed, showing a tenderness for her daughter that softened Megan toward her. She might be the ex-wife of Megan’s crush, but she was Sophie’s mom and, from everything Megan had heard, a good one. “If you two don’t need me, I’m going to hop in the shower. Megan, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you. I’ve come to accept that this pu
ppy business isn’t going to go away.”
“Well, I’m happy to help however I can. Any of us at the shelter are. And sorry about the intrusion.”
“Like Sophie said, he isn’t here to object, is he?”
* * *
The awkwardness Megan had felt at the beginning of the lunch returned when Wes wiped his mouth with his napkin and scanned the room. He excused himself, saying he’d be just a minute, then headed toward the restrooms.
Don’t leave me here alone, Megan wanted to plead. Instead she folded her napkin, then refolded it once more because she was one hundred percent sure Craig was staring at her.
She’d spent the better part of last night debating a hundred ways to say it—to thank him for the game-changing donation he’d made. She’d had a few different lines on the tip of her tongue and figured she’d go with whatever came out. But when the time came, nothing did. She’d managed to smile and nod along with Wesley, who was congenial enough for both of them. The two guys did all the talking early in the hour. When it got down to particulars, to how the money could be spent, she unfroze and added her input.
If Craig noticed, which she figured he did, he didn’t show any offense. She might not yet understand the motivation behind his donation, but she knew it wasn’t because he was looking to be praised. She was certain of that.
About halfway through the meal, it had occurred to her that the reason he hadn’t called her was because she wasn’t that important in his life. They hardly knew each other, after all.
Whatever his reason, it shouldn’t matter, Megan told herself. The donation was incredible. Its potential effects were still popping into her mind at different times. On top of that, Craig was a truly admirable person. But the stirrings, the crush, the connection she thought she felt…they must have been one-sided. She needed to accept this—and fast. He was the shelter’s biggest donor ever, and he’d be stepping in as president of the board.
So what to the rest of it. So what that he’d been in her house. That she’d been in his car. Heard the intimacy in his voice late in the day over the phone. Or that they’d argued in the rain.
The server came while Megan was finishing folding her napkin into a square for a second time. Craig handed over his card, then leaned back against his chair. “So which is it? Are you angry with me, or are you just afraid?”
Her mouth went dry. Abandoning her napkin, she locked her hands under her thighs. She looked his way, startled by the blueness of eyes she’d already committed to memory. “You could have told me.”
It came out before she’d even contemplated it. She reminded herself that he had no obligation to her. No reason to tell her anything.
Craig ran his thumb over the edge of the tablecloth. “Yes, I expect I should have.”
Somehow the fact that he’d agreed so easily stung. “So why the shelter?” Even though she hadn’t meant it to, she realized the question probably sounded like an accusation. To soften it, she added, “Because Sophie loves it so much?”
He was studying her so intently that it took her a bit to realize he wasn’t responding. His gaze slid over her face, dropped to her jawline, and lingered on her sternum before flitting back to her eyes.
“That cemented it, yes. And because of the shelter itself. It’s a remarkable place you’ve all built.” Craig reached for his glass, swirling ice around the bottom. Tension suddenly lined his shoulders. “But, as you seem to have guessed, there is one reason I didn’t share with Wesley. If you two hadn’t ridden together, I’d ask you to stick around. I think the sooner I make my intentions known, the better.”
Intentions? Ashley’s words rang in her ears. “Whatever they are, I think you should know I don’t sleep around.” It took three full seconds to realize the declaration had come from her. Her cheeks flamed burning hot. Bravo, Megan, bravo. She was fairly certain that she’d never said anything dumber in her entire life.
He didn’t seem offended in the slightest. His laugh was low and playful. “Megan Anderson, you’re a pleasure.”
The server returned, and Craig signed the check. Megan swallowed her humiliation and scoped the hallway to the bathrooms in hopes of Wes’s return.
“Step outside with me?” Craig asked. Then, when she didn’t respond, he added, “Please.”
With no sign of Wes, she was forced to make eye contact again. There was a softness pouring off him that she’d never glimpsed before.
She felt herself nodding. “Okay.”
Craig motioned her forward first. She crossed the restaurant and headed outside into a blustery wind, puffy blue-gray clouds, and no sign of the sun. The door fell shut, and Megan was suddenly acutely aware of a lack of other people.
It didn’t help that he looked good enough in his suit for it to serve as a further distraction. His broad shoulders and trim waist drew her attention when she should only be thinking about donations and how to recover from the embarrassment of that comment she’d let slip inside.
“Megan, I…” Craig went quiet and shifted in place. Then he turned away and began to pace the sidewalk.
His tie was gray with bits of purple and black, which matched the small purple-and-black paisleys in her cream-colored blouse. Like they’d coordinated. Instead of jeans, she’d worn her nicest black pants and dress boots. It seemed appropriate, dressing up to meet your best donor and incoming board president. You look nice, he’d said when he saw her, as if their relationship warranted the special notice.
He stopped pacing and faced her, dragging his fingers through his hair. “So you’re worried I donated that money to get you into bed.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I know you didn’t. What I said inside was stupid. I’m sorry.”
He swallowed and looked from her eyes to her lips, then back to her eyes. After a dozen erratic thumps of her heart, he said, “The truth is, that other reason, the one I didn’t share with Wes… Well, it’s pretty much just the opposite, actually.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
He reached out and came close to brushing his hand against her hair. Just before touching her, he pulled back and shoved both hands in his pockets. “I’m not going to lie. I’d like very much to get you into bed. And I know I’ve done a pretty poor job of hiding it.”
Megan’s heart pounded in her chest. She wasn’t crazy. She hadn’t been picking up on something that wasn’t there. She pressed her lips into a line as he leaned in to speak into her ear.
Could two people stand closer without touching?
“I want you, Megan. More than you know. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first day we met. I thought I would just get past it. And I’m not. But Sophie’s involved now. Reese too. And I’ll do anything in the world not to hurt them again after all they’ve been through.”
It was too much. His body mirroring hers. His breath brushing against her ear. His words that healed and cut at the same time. She backed up until she bumped into the brick wall of the restaurant. She began to breathe normally again when he didn’t close in against her.
“So now,” he continued. “That move you were worried I was going to make? I can promise I’ll never attempt it.”
She blinked at his change of direction. She took a few seconds to process his comment, then said, “That doesn’t make sense. You donated the money, and that prevents you from making a move somehow?”
“I donated the money to the shelter because it was the right thing to do. Now that I have though, I can promise you’re safe from any move I might’ve made.”
Damn it anyway. Why was she so close to crying? What was he doing, giving her such a clear yes and no at the same time?
And damn Wes and his digestive problems. What was taking him so long? She wanted him here. She wanted to leave. She wanted to run. Wanted to scream or cry, whichever came first. Maybe even stamp her feet.
&n
bsp; “It still doesn’t make sense. How does it prevent you from…from—”
“Sleeping with you?” He closed the distance between them once more and splayed his hand on the cold brick by her side. “It’s one of my cardinal rules. I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure.”
She shoved away from him. “Then I’m sorry for you. If you liked what you do for a living, you’d find pleasure in it. And maybe then you wouldn’t have to make giant donations just to disconnect yourself from your feelings.”
The hurt in his eyes made her want to scream. It was her turn to pace the sidewalk. She’d done that. She put that pain there.
“If I recall, you were the first to say you weren’t going to sleep with me.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped and swallowed hard. He was right. He watched her, waiting for her to say more. But she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word.
The door of the restaurant opened, and Wes walked out, rubbing his stomach and offering a sheepish smile. He was followed by two women who were chattering like birds. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
Craig returned Wes’s smile with one that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “It’s all right. I’ll be in touch. And like I said, I’m happy to offer advice…but how you move forward from here is up to you.”
With the first rebellious tear sliding down her cheek, Megan turned abruptly and headed for Wes’s car, hoping beyond hope Craig had parked somewhere else.
Chapter 12
Staring at the register screen in the checkout line, Megan frowned. Eighty-six dollars. And most of it was feel-better-quickly, bad-for-you food she didn’t need. Maybe eating to comfort her emotions wasn’t the answer, but she couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.
Deflated, she swiped her card and did her best to keep up with the small talk of the cashier. He was sweet and older, and she always chose his line. Today, it would’ve been better to be checked out by someone else. But she’d caught his eye and hadn’t wanted to be rude.
