~ ALLIE ~
Please put your shirt back on. The sight of your body will ruin other men for me.
I want to say it. I want to beg it. But I also want to just give one poke to that tantalizing V at the edge of his abs just to see what it feels like. His jeans are low on his hips, just low enough that I can see every precious ripple of muscle on his torso. What does a guy have to do to get a body like that?
“Be right back,” he says and he bounds up the stairs, presumably to his bedroom to get a new shirt. Kosmo follows him.
I want to follow him, too.
Not a minute passes and he’s in front of me again, covered up in a t-shirt that only turns my temperature down a degree or two. Truth is, he looks almost as sexy in that shirt as he did half-naked. Almost.
I follow him through the house as he gives me a tour. He opens the fridge when we’re in the kitchen and asks me if I want a soda. I nod, wishing I could pour the cold liquid over my body right now.
There’s a box of dog treats on the counter that he says he picked up this morning, and he asks if it’s all right for Kosmo to have one. I tell him yes, feeling a warmth settle into me as he sits on the ground and hands Kosmo the treat. Kosmo nuzzles him, looking for another and Logan wraps his thick arms around him in a hug.
I could cry right now. I could honest-to-God cry as I see these two together. It’s like they were meant for each other, and I had nearly stood in their way.
Of course, I had intended to do a house check on him all along. I just let his application fall to the bottom of the bunch. After all, just because I thought he was a lying prick didn’t mean he might not be a good pet owner. And like Cass was quick to point out, just about everyone lies when they are hanging out in hotel bars. Even I had dipped my toe in the water of deceit when I told him my name was Alexandra. It just sounds sexier than Allie, though no one uses my full name except for telemarketers.
But he hadn’t been lying. He is a SEAL. Or was, specifically. And trying to remember what exactly he had told me that night, I’m willing to bet he never said he currently is a SEAL. Honestly, looking at him during dinner I was so damn focused on how gorgeous he was, the conversation had gone pretty much like this:
“Blah, blah, blah, Logan, blah, blah, blah, Navy SEAL, blah, blah, blah, blah, San Diego, blah, blah, blah, blah, Check, please!”
He shows us the upstairs next and my heart skips two or three beats as we step into the master bedroom.
He smacks the top of his king size mattress to urge Kosmo up onto it. Is it wrong to envy a dog? If he’d make the same gesture for me, I’d probably launch myself onto the mattress, too.
“So, is this where he’ll sleep?” I ask.
“Yep, unless you think someplace else is better.”
“It’s perfect.” Some dogs do better in crates at night, but definitely not this one. And I have to admit, I’m partial to letting a dog sleep with me at night. After all, it’s the only company I get in the sack these days.
I doubt Logan can say the same.
“And I’m thinking I’ll keep a water bowl upstairs in the bathroom here, and one downstairs. Your website said he gets a little more tired than other dogs right now, right?”
“Mmhm. But if the surgery is successful, that should change.” I step into the master bath in the direction he’s pointing, and my jaw drops. It’s as big as my bedroom, and the tile work makes me feel like I’m in some boutique hotel in New York City. There are double sinks, a stand up shower, and a huge soaking tub. With the image of him shirtless still etched in my brain, I can’t resist imagining him in that tub. And since it’s big enough for two, my own likeness creeps into the fantasy. Of course, in my imagination, the ten extra pounds on my thighs and butt have miraculously relocated to my breasts.
I clear my throat. “Was this part of the renovation you were talking about?”
“Yes. I had to strip this place pretty much down to the studs. And I stole some of the space from the bedroom on the other side of this wall to make the bathroom bigger. Like it?”
“Love it,” I reply without hesitation. I’ve never met anyone who’s done a big project like this.
I step back into his bedroom where Kosmo is making himself at home on the four-poster bed. The room is definitively masculine with its dark wood and a leather recliner facing a television along the back wall. Another two bookcases stand on either side of a picture window. Glancing outside, I notice a fence around his yard—perfect for a dog like Kosmo. Just outside the fence, I see a rocky portion of Newton’s Creek, the picturesque stream that gave its name to our town. The view is lovely, and I can picture Logan dropping a fishing rod into the water there with Kosmo at his side.
“You have a big yard for a townhome,” I tell him.
“Let me show you it,” he says, backing out of the room. “Since it’s an end unit, I decided I’d fence off the side yard, too.”
We walk down to the kitchen and he swings open the back door. Kosmo darts into the green space, sniffing and exploring. He’s in heaven right now.
“He seems pretty happy here,” Logan notices.
“He does,” I agree.
He turns to me, suddenly looking serious. “Listen, I need to ask you something important.”
I immediately brace myself. I knew this was too good to be true.
“How is he with kids?” he asks.
I expel the breath I was holding. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but when a man you barely know offers to cover a dog’s $4,000 surgery, it’s natural to think there might be some strings attached.
“You have kids?”
“No. But I have a seven-year-old niece who I spend a lot of time with when she’s staying with her dad. I’d need a dog to get along with her.” He pauses. “I’ll pay his medical bills regardless, though. I just don’t want her getting attached to a dog that might not get along with her. Life doles out enough rejection as it is.”
I’m impressed that he even thinks on that level. So many people don’t see the big picture when it comes to adopting a dog. It’s not all cuddles and long walks and games of fetch. “He plays all the time with my friend’s four-year-old,” I say, remembering how patient Kosmo was when Kim’s son yanked his tail. “I mean, you really need to be cautious with any dog, and especially when he’s recovering from surgery he might be crabby. But I haven’t seen anything that would make me hesitate in letting you adopt him.”
“So you’ll let me?” He looks hopeful.
“Yes.” I feel a little lump in my throat at the thought of handing Kosmo over to someone else. I always feel this way, though. “And it’s written in the contract that you’ll sign that if for any reason you can’t provide a home for him, you have to give him back to us.”
“Absolutely. So what happens now? Do you just leave him here?”
I almost agree to. I feel that certain Kosmo is exactly where he belongs. “Um, no. I actually have to check your references first. I usually do those after house checks because it sometimes takes a while to track people down, and half the time I get stood up for house checks, anyway.”
“Really?”
“Yep. But anyway, that will give you time to buy the things you’ll need. I’ll give you a list and the brand of foods and treats he’s been eating. I’d stick to what he’s used to, at least for a while. And his medicine—” I begin, hesitating only briefly. “You’ll need to stock up on his heart meds because he can’t go a day without them. I have about a week’s worth that I can give you. They’re, um, pretty expensive,” I warn him, ready to watch him bail.
“It’s not a problem.” He says it without hesitation, and I can’t help but wonder how much this guy’s banking as a construction manager. After buying a row of townhomes and putting all this work into them, I can’t imagine he’s got a lot of other projects right now. But I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“I can drop him off later this week, if that’s okay. I’d really like to do it before Friday evening, if possible.” I wouldn’t ordinarily tell him why, but for some reason I’m compelled to. “The shelter euthanizes dogs then and since I’ll have an extra space available in my home, I’d really like to pick up another dog who has run out of time.”
His eyes are still fixed on Kosmo as he plays in the yard, but his expression changes. “Jesus,” he says quietly. “Yeah, I’ll buy everything I need tonight and be ready for him as soon as you want to bring him over.”
“Great, thanks.” I slap my hand to my thigh, and Kosmo charges to my side. “Well, I don’t want to take up any more of your time today. I should probably get going.”
He nods, heading back into the house, and I fight disappointment because I really don’t want to go.
“Thanks for coming by, Alexandra.”
“Allie,” I say, hooking Kosmo back up to his leash. “Most people really just call me Allie.”
“Really? You look more like an Alexandra to me.”
I stare at him silently a moment. He probably doesn’t know I am taking that as a compliment, but I am. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see anyone as exotic or dramatic as an Alexandra staring back at me. I like the idea that he might see something different.
He walks me out the front door and up to the side of my car.
Bending over, he gives Kosmo a final pet and kisses him on the top of his head. That’s one lucky dog, I’m thinking.
“See you soon, boy,” he says, opening up the car door. I hope he doesn’t notice that my car smells like a kennel.
Walking over to my side of the car, he asks, “So why did you leave?”
I’m caught off guard. Maybe it’s the proximity to him that’s causing it, but my brain seems to be short-circuiting as he gallantly opens my door for me. “Hmm?”
“That night at the hotel. If it wasn’t because you thought I was lying about being a SEAL, then why did you disappear on me?”
Sighing, I sit in my car wishing I could come up with a good way of spinning the truth. “I just chickened out. That’s… not like me. You know, following a guy up to his hotel room. I’ve never done that before.”
He smiles. “Technically, you still haven’t. You didn’t make it over the threshold.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“No need to be sorry. I just wish you had told me. I’d never push a woman into something she’s not comfortable with.”
This guy is too good to be true. I’m tempted to throw myself at him again like I did in that elevator, but I’m sure that train has left the station. After all, I haven’t really made the best impression on him.
No need to humiliate myself further with this man.
“Well, I’m sorry, just the same.” He’ll never know how sorry. The mere sight of Logan does more for my sex drive than the best vibrator I sell.
As he shuts my car door for me, Kosmo sticks his head over the seat and licks my ear. Wish Logan would do that, but I can’t be too sad about it.
After all, Kosmo’s getting a home and the surgery he needs, and I’ll be saving another dog this week.
Life is lonely. But life is good.