Just the Thing

by Marie Harte

  “There’s a business for that?”

  “Yep. Come on, Gavin. This is Seattle. There’s an entrepreneur born here every minute.”

  “True.”

  “Now let’s go feed Mauler and make sure his water bowl is full. Josh will be back later today. I volunteered for dog-walking duty and fun time with Mauler because Cleo was busy. You remember Cleo.”

  “Your best friend, the cutie with the mouth. Yeah.”

  “So glad you noticed.”

  He smiled at the bite of jealousy he liked to believe he heard. “Hey, she’s cute. You’re gorgeous. Now tell me again why Officer Josh isn’t minding his own dog.”

  “He’s working out of town at the moment. Helping a buddy in Idaho. Don’t ask. I don’t know the details. What I do know is Cleo and Matt, her other brother, have been caring for Mauler at Matt’s place. But Matt had to go away this weekend, so Cleo asked if I could swing by if Matt dropped him off here. Because Josh will be back today, and she’s busy with something else.”

  “My head hurts from that convoluted explanation, but okay. So let’s go entertain Mauler. Great name for a dog, by the way.”

  “I like it.”

  “You would. What’s your nickname? Bruiser York?”

  “Only at work.”

  “And in bed,” he added under his breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing, Mistress. Nothing at all.”

  After she’d gathered the leash and a few dog treats, as well as some bags for any more of Mauler’s piles, they moved back into her car, with Mauler sprawled across her entire backseat, which she’d covered with an old blanket.

  “I see you’ve done this before.” He sat in the passenger seat, hoping the dog wouldn’t drool all over him.

  “Yep.” She smiled. “I don’t have a pet right now, but I’d like to get one someday, when I have more time.” She gave him a side-look. “Or when I get a boy toy to take care of him. You know, make love to me, rub my feet, cook my meals, take care of the dog. Maybe even clean the house for me. The important things.”

  “Going down on you?”

  “I said make love. Same thing.”

  “That’s true.” He winked, amused that she constantly blushed when talking about sex. This from the woman who’d worn a boobless bustier. “And we all know how much I love making love to your fine, delicious, p—”

  “Gavin, I get it.” She cleared her throat.

  “I was going to say person. Geez, Zoe. Get your mind out of the gutter.” Mauler barked. “Now let’s get going. You heard the dog.”

  They drove toward an off-leash dog park Zoe wanted to take him to.

  “Gavin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How did you sleep last night?”

  He turned to her and smiled. “Better than I have in a long, long time.”

  “No nightmares?”

  “Not a one.” He paused. “Except when I saw your hair this morning.” She snorted. “I didn’t want to say anything, but a rat’s nest comes to mind.”

  “I’m the nightmare?” She laughed, cheery, a spark in her eyes. “Try your breath, buddy. It was like Satan vomited in your mouth and then set it on fire. Burned my eyebrows nearly off when you rolled over and huffed a good morning.”

  “See, now that was clever. I can’t understand how you could think only Aubrey was the creative one in your schemes. You? Straight man? No way.”

  She paused, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake mentioning her sister.

  But Zoe’s slow smile enthralled him. “She’d have liked you, Gavin.”

  “I know I’d have liked her. But not more than you.”

  She took his hand to her lips and kissed it.

  Not to be outdone. Mauler leaned forward and slobbered a tongue in Gavin’s ear.

  “So romantic. Not. Ew,” Gavin complained and wiped his ear, shoving Mauler’s huge head back and scratching his ears. Secretly, he thanked the dog. Because if Mauler hadn’t made that move, Gavin might have done something stupid. Like told Zoe how much he cared for her. How he thought he might…love her.

  And wouldn’t that be a disaster?

  * * *

  Zoe spent the next week with Gavin. They worked separately, of course. But she met him at the gym for workouts when he could squeeze her in between clients. For all that he’d said he hadn’t intended to work at the gym as long as he had, he seemed a natural fit for training. The gym patrons loved him, and so did Mac.

  For her part, she loved watching him move those sexy muscles. The man could seriously rock those gym outfits. Unfortunately, Mac now seemed to have a store of red gym shirts in all sizes, so Gavin had no choice but to wear them.

  The prank wars had managed to come to an end. Landon was still incensed that he and Ava hadn’t been invited to the pregnant dinner prank, but whatever. Gavin and Zoe reigned supreme. Ava told her Landon had actually been amused by the whole thing, especially about Linda losing to the “new girl.”

  Today, Sunday afternoon, Gavin planned on spending the day with Theo while Zoe spent some much-needed girl time with Cleo. Piper had extended her East Coast trip through July, so only Cleo and Zoe shared Sunday tea and cakes in her flourishing garden.

  “So, tell all,” Cleo ordered as she munched on a Twinkie.

  “Really? I made scones.” Zoe frowned. “You didn’t have to bring your own snacks.”

  “Snack cakes. And sorry, but those scones taste like paste. Use sugar next time. Here. Have a Ho Ho.”

  “What did you call me?”

  Cleo shook her head. “I think all that sex you’re having has messed with your funny bone. You and the jokes lately.”

  “Good, aren’t they?” Zoe bit into a scone. Cloe didn’t know what she was talking about.

  Cleo laughed. “They’re so bad they’re good. You look great, Zoe. And you’re always smiling. I think Gavin is turning you into a real girl. I’m glad you have him, though I miss hanging out with you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I know what it’s like. All that newness, the excitement, getting laid after an eternity of cobwebs taking root in your hoohah.”

  “Oh, that’s an image.”

  Cleo laughed. “Ain’t it though? That’s a Scottism.”

  “So how is he?”

  Cleo sighed. “Still in Germany. Still not coming home yet. It’s weird how his orders keep getting delayed. But if the Army needs him there, then that’s where he has to be.” She shrugged. “So tell me, how are Sir Gavin and his fine ass today?”

  “I knew it was a mistake to have you join the gym.”

  “Zoe, my God. The man’s ass should have shrines and statues built to worship it. Two round, rock-hard globes of that magnitude… Just…amazing.”

  “Stop.”

  “So do you ever just want to climb him and put a flag between his cheeks, then do a big old Matterhorn victory dance? Like you’ve conquered Mount Donnigan, all by yourself?”

  Zoe choked down a blueberry and had to hold herself, laughing so hard it hurt while Cleo continued to poke fun.

  “Are you finished?” Zoe wheezed.

  “My work here is done.” Cleo wiped her hands and took another Twinkie from the pack. “I’m kidding, of course. I like Gavin a lot. I’m so glad you guys are together. He’s good for you.”

  Zoe had gone back and forth about it, but Cleo’s advice would help. She bit the bullet. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “When did you know you loved Scott?”

  Cleo gaped. “The l-word? No way.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “God, this is so great! Okay, okay. Um, Scott. I think it was after we’d been going out for a few months. But remember, we didn’t see each other as much as you and Gavin do.
Those first few months after I met him, he would come to visit his sister while looking for a place to rent. He still had weeks before his reassignment to Fort Lewis. I want to say it was our fifth or sixth date. I knew he was cute and I liked him, but until he told me he loved me, it hadn’t clicked.” She sighed. “Then it was magical. And that was two years ago tomorrow.”

  “So romantic.” Zoe had met Scott a few times. He’d seemed nice enough, a good-looking, hardworking soldier. But something about him… She couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe because Cleo was so outspoken and vibrant, and Scott had been so quiet. A little boring, to tell the truth.

  “Yeah. So you and Gavin. You’re feeling it for him? That’s a big step.”

  “I know.” Zoe kicked back and put her feet up on the chair next to her. “At first it was his charm. He nagged me into going out with him.”

  “For which I still think you’re nuts. One word out of his mouth, and I’d have been all, ‘Hell yeah!’”

  “Then it was the amazing sex. Because, damn, it’s amazing.”

  They high-fived.

  “But being with him is so much fun, Cleo. I like him as a person. He’s down-to-earth, exciting, kind. He makes my heart race whenever I’m near him. And when I’m not, I want to be with him. I’ve never felt like that before. Typically I just want my space. But he sleeps over, and I’m totally fine with that.”

  “Wow. So you love him.”

  “I really do.” Oh my God. I do.

  “Now hold on. I can see the panic setting in. Zoe, think. You love this man. Does he love you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Does it matter if you do and he doesn’t?”

  “Hell yes, it matters.”

  “Okay, yeah, that was dumb. I guess what you really need to ask yourself is, what are you going to do about it?”

  The million-dollar question.

  “I don’t know.” Zoe sighed. “I want to tell him.”

  “So do it.”

  “He’s always giving me these intimate smiles, these looks. He strokes my hair and kisses my head when he thinks I’m sleeping. He makes me coffee first thing in the morning. He’s not threatened by my job or success. And he’s not trying to outdo me with a career.”

  “He can’t be making a ton of money at the gym,” Cleo pointed out.

  “I know. I asked him about that. He’s comfortable, and he gets a small amount as retirement.”

  “He’s retired? I thought he was thirty-one.”

  “Thirty-two. And it’s a medical retirement. We don’t talk about it, but he got shot when he was in the Marine Corps. I think he saw a lot of bad stuff there.”

  Cleo’s eyes widened. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. He has money to go to college if he wants, from the military. But it’s not bugging him that he didn’t go. And I couldn’t care less. When we go out to do stuff, he’s always happy to pay. But I insist we take turns.”

  “Of course you do.” Cleo rolled her eyes.

  “But that doesn’t bother him. He’s really mellow about a lot of stuff. It’s like he balances me out.”

  “That’s great. Still doesn’t answer the question about what you plan to do with the big love bubble in the air.”

  “I want to tell him. Should I tell him? What if I do and he doesn’t feel the same? That’s a lot of pressure.”

  “Look. Just because you say it doesn’t mean he has to say it back. You’ve always been bold, not afraid to take a risk—at work. Why not apply the same policy at home? That’s logical, right?”

  She nodded, thinking. “And it’s something Aubrey would do.” Lately, around Gavin, she felt more okay about her sister’s loss.

  Cleo tapped her fingers on the table. “Do you think Aubrey would like him?”

  “Yes. I bet she’d have met him and made a play for those delicious glutes from day one,” Zoe teased.

  “You got that right. You’re just lucky my heart is already taken.”

  “By hunky Mark Swanson, you mean?”

  “Hey.” Cleo stuck out a cream-covered tongue.

  “Ew.”

  “That’s what you get for ruining my sugar high. Yeah, if you put a muzzle over Swanson’s mouth, then he’s a god. But he talks too much and has too high an opinion of himself to ever be Mr. Right.”

  “That’s true.”

  They sat in silence while the sun blazed overhead, butterflies danced in the garden, and the scent of lavender and honeysuckle mingled in the air.

  “You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”

  “I have to. I’m all full inside, and I need to say it. Go big or go home, right?” WWAD—What Would Aubrey Do? She’d tell the man to his face. In big, bold letters. I. Love. You.

  Zoe could do that. And she planned to. Later that night.

  But when Gavin joined her that evening, they laughed through a really bad Netflix movie. Zombies and zoos and leprechauns were too much to fit on any size screen, big or small. Then Gavin showed her what the chill part of that idiom should be used for. A glorious interpretation of the number sixty-nine.

  After which, Zoe fell asleep and didn’t wake up until her alarm the next day.

  * * *

  At the early-morning Monday meeting, Cleo asked, “Did you tell him?”

  Zoe flushed. “We got distracted.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Monday night followed the same pattern. But this time it was Gavin getting out of the shower and strutting around in front of her that provided the distraction.

  Tuesday night, he didn’t sleep over.

  Wednesday night, they worked out together, a run around Green Lake that turned into a race. She didn’t like him winning and rubbing her nose in the loss. That was her right as ultimate victor. So she’d challenged him at home in games until she won. Then she made him feel the pain through another night of delayed gratification that had him begging her to finish him.

  Thursday, after bringing him dinner at the gym and going home—to her home, now one she kind of thought of as theirs—she waited. She bit her nails. She weeded and re-weeded. But when he returned, tired and carrying a red rose for his thorny chick of a girlfriend, she chickened out.

  “You okay?” he asked as they snuggled after another marathon session of sex. God, if she hadn’t been on the pill, she felt sure he’d have knocked her up already. The man had stamina.

  “Great.” She sighed. “Just tired.”

  “Oh, okay. You’ve seemed distracted lately.”

  “Only in the best way.” She kissed his chest and hugged him.

  She heard him sigh and felt him kiss her hair, then hug her back.

  She woke later in the dark of early morning to him moving around, restless in his sleep. He moaned, and at first she thought she’d hurt him.

  “Gavin?”

  Groggy, she didn’t realize he’d been caught in a nightmare until he started moaning, “No, no. Don’t get in the truck, damn it. It’s not safe.”

  She quietly crept out of bed and got him a cup of water. When she returned, she turned on a side light and saw him clearly distressed.

  “Oh, Gavin. It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”

  He didn’t seem to hear her, frowning and straining. Then… “Zoe?”

  Was he dreaming or awake? She stayed where she was, by the side of the room, just in case.

  “Fuck, Zoe,” he muttered. “Don’t go.”

  She blinked, surprised to find her eyes burning. She sipped the water she’d fetched for him and watched him ease back to sleep. When she’d given him a good ten minutes, she moved tentatively back to his side.

  He turned over, took her in his arms, and sniffed her neck.

  “Gavin?” She stroked his hair.

  He sighed, murmured, “Zoe,” then fell back asleep.

 
; “I love you.” Finally. She had no trouble saying it.

  And he couldn’t hear her.

  She didn’t have to work hard to imagine what Aubrey’s response to that would have been—Lightweight.

  Chapter 16

  Saturday evening, Gavin glanced around Zoe’s fancy work party, holding a glass of punch in his hands. The nonalcoholic kind, available because apparently he wasn’t the only person who didn’t want to booze it up. Then again, with the many doctors hanging around the place, it made sense some of them might have to be sober if on call.

  “So, Gavin. Nice to see you again.” Mark Swanson—his archenemy. Not really, but he felt the need to laugh.

  “Igor. How’s it hanging?”

  Swanson blinked. “Igor?”

  “The brains behind the Frankenstein outfit, or so I once witnessed during an incredibly bad musical about the guy, the doctor, and a bean.”

  “Ah. So I’m not the only one who was forced to watch Frank Got Beans But Igor Got Brains. A theatrical masterpiece, or a mistake? You decide.”

  Gavin blinked. “You saw that?”

  “My sister forced me to go as her date many, many years ago. Sadly, hers stood her up when he realized she planned to watch a musical. Of course, the guy was sixteen and had better taste than amateur theater. I wanted to scrape my own eyes and ears out after the spectacle.”

  Gavin laughed. “It was awful. My mom made me go because my little brother played the part of the bean.”

  Swanson actually cracked a smile. “Does he still act?”

  “Hell no. Thank God. Just graduated high school a few years ago. He’s figuring out what to do next.”

  “A rough age.” Swanson nodded, then glanced around. “I take it you’re here with Zoe?”

  “Yep. She’s…mingling.”

  “She’s good at that. Keeps the peace around here often enough.” He grimaced when Cleo Brewer walked by. “Unlike others.” Beyond the loathing in the guy’s eyes, Gavin saw heated interest. So, that’s the way the wind blows, eh, Swanson?

  “But she’s so tiny,” he said, lifting his glass at Cleo. “How can she make trouble?”

  Swanson raised a brow. “You’ve met her, and you have to ask?”