Dixie was disgusted with herself. First she’d had sex with the man who was building an environmental disaster on her doorstep, then she acted like the spurned girlfriend.
“God, what am I doing?”
She tossed the robe on the bed and went to take a shower. Yeah, she’d had some good, hard, sweaty exercise already today, but she felt like she needed more. More of something.
Putting on her hiking boots, she considered her options. She could take Blues out for one-on-one time in the woods or she could drive into town and set fire to Brand’s permit.
Hike? Or burn? Oh, hell. She wasn’t a pyromaniac so she’d have to settle for the hike. After dressing, she got Blues out of the kennel and they headed for the woods. Hound that he was, Blues ranged far ahead, then returned to check on her. He loped through the thin woods looking for something to tree. For a while he played chase with a skinny Florida squirrel at the top of his game. Blues came back panting and laughing at himself and the world. It was all in the eyes when talking about dogs.
Brand Taylor wasn’t a dog but his eyes were as accurate as a teleprompter. Passion made them dilate. Anger made them almost crystal-like. And regret made him hide them which he had done as he left to get his permit.
She picked up a pine cone and threw it as hard and far as she could. Blues took off after it. She let her shoulders slump. So she’d been dumped. It wasn’t the first time.
“Actually, it is the first time.” She slapped her hands on her hips. “What did we just have? A one-day stand?”
Past relationships had ended amicably and mutually. She didn’t like confrontations and tended to be attracted to laid-back men who weren’t looking for anything permanent.
“Permanent? Brand didn’t last six hours!”
Blues came back with a stick. Dixie chuckled. “Too many pine cones?”
She gave him a rub and turned back home. Blues pranced ahead proudly carrying his stick. He showed it off to the other dogs when they got back to the kennel. Dixie let them all out and was very pleased to see Champ tugging on Blues’ stick.
“Good boy, Champ! Good boy!”
Playtime stretched to a couple of hours. Dixie was able to clear her mind and forget she was most likely waiting for Brand to get back. Dinnertime came and went. She didn’t kennel the dogs until her stomach grumbled. As she locked up the outside door, she glanced toward Brand’s house.
The SUV was there and the lights were on. Brand was not visible.
“Well, shit on you,” Dixie muttered. Determined not to get upset, she strode into her house and went to the kitchen. It was all blurry but she wouldn’t admit to herself it was due to the tears pooling in her eyes. It’s sand. That’s right. I live on a beach. She wiped her eyes and searched for something edible.
* * *
The next week flew by and dragged at the same time. For Dixie, it was dogs, dogs, dogs. Baby’s owner came to pick him up and stayed for the mandatory four-hour lesson with the trainer, Dixie Rose. Baby behaved as long as Dixie was nearby. The minute she disappeared from sight, Baby reverted. Of course the owner reverted to cootchie-coos and baby talk which did not help. Dixie knew damn well if she had had the owner around for all of Baby’s lessons, Baby would be much further along in his training. As it was, all she could do was emphasize continuing Baby’s training and implore the owner to stop the baby talk. The little old lady assured her she would follow directions and promptly cootchie-cooed the little tyrant while carrying him to the car.
“What can you expect when the woman names her dog Baby and promises num-nums?” She and Blues watched as the Mercedes pulled away with Baby in the driver’s lap. “Oh, well.”
She turned back to the kennel and hurried to answer the phone she’d left inside. Maybe it was Brand…
“Hello?”
“Hey, little sis. How’re things?”
“Cash, hi.”
“Don’t hurt yourself greeting me warmly, now.”
Dixie laughed. “Sorry. I was expecting someone else.”
“Must be a fella. Want to call me back later?”
“No, no, I don’t think he’s going to call.”
Silence greeted her declaration.
Finally, big, protective, eldest brother, Cash, spoke in his not-quite-faking-it, I’ll-tear-him-apart voice. “You need me to come down there and teach this fella some manners? I’ll be there in six hours.”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “I can take care of it. But thanks.”
“You sure, baby?”
This time she groaned. “Please don’t call me baby. I just got rid of a Chihuahua named Baby who is a tyrant and gets his num-nums from his ‘mommy’.”
Cash’s laugh boomed across the phone. “Whoo-ee, you sure know how to pick ’em.”
“Baby was signed up by Perry’s last manager. Did you hear—”
“About Perry giving you the kennel? Yeah. Mom and Dad told me.”
“Mom and Dad know? How? Perry asked me not to tell anyone.”
“Perry may be a millionaire but he’s not as cagey as he thinks. How could he keep all his gifts secret when Mom does his books?”
Dixie chuckled. “Maybe he is as cagey as he thinks and just doesn’t want public thanks.” Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, she changed subjects. “Can you believe there’s a guy here who wants to put a jet ski rental store right next to my kennel?” Her voice trailed off as she realized just who she had brought up.
“Yeah? Who?”
She could do this. It’s just one conversation with her brother. That’s all. “He’s going to rent jet skis and scuba tanks.”
“Jet skis? Really? I’ve always wanted to ride one of those things.”
That’s all she needed, her brother and her ex-lover bonding over engines and salt water. “Stick with your tractor. It’s safer and makes a contribution to society.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind, Cash. Listen, I have to put the dogs up and feed them.”
“Yeah, sure. Just wanted to say hello and ask if you minded the Gerson’s boy uses your ATV next weekend.”
ATV. Oh, God. I too, am a polluter.
“Sis? It’s not like you’ve used it in three years.”
“I know. Yeah, Boyd can use it whenever he wants. Thanks, Cash. I love you.”
“Of course you do, ba—little sis.”
She said good-bye with a smile that faded before her brother hung up. Damn you, Brand.
* * *
“Damn me,” Brand mumbled as he drove across the causeway to Mimosa Key. He’d gotten his permit a week ago and immediately left to talk face-to-face with his contractor. They’d settled on floor plans, the boat house where the skis and equipment would be stored and the teaching shed outfitted like a Tiki bar. It was going to look great. He’d given Dallas, his contractor, the funds to purchase building supplies and the go-ahead to hire an electrician and a plumber. Everything was coming right along.
He’d purchased a two-ski trailer for his SUV and had a trailer hitch installed. Six kayaks, a dozen jet skis and a dozen scuba tanks with all the accessories had him well on his way to opening his rental shop. And it had taken five days more than he’d anticipated.
“Naturally, I’ve alienated one of the few people I know in town. I’m such an asshole.”
Galli whined from the back seat.
“I didn’t call myself a dog this time, okay? Just relax.”
Here he was, driving onto Mimosa Key, in a very bad mood after having a very successful trip to the mainland. Dreading running into Dixie, and yearning to run into Dixie, he drove slowly down the road toward the kennel and his house. He slowed more at the entrance to the kennel. There was a light on in the kennel but none of the dogs were out. And neither was Dixie.
He continued on to his place. Parking his truck and letting Galli out for a run, he considered how to approach the disaster he had created. He could go over, right now, and test the waters. Is she mad? Indifferent? Teary-eyed?
No, definitely not teary-eyed.
Homicidal maybe.
No matter what, he had to see her and apologize. Unless she seemed okay with how things worked out. She was probably relieved. She didn’t want to get involved with a neighbor any more than he did. It was worse than breaking up with a coworker. Meetings at the mailboxes, noise complaints…yeah, she’d call in a lot of noise complaints.
“No. She’s a mature, level-headed woman. She’ll be fine with how things worked out.”
“So you’re back, tail between your legs and slime all over your character.”
“Dixie!” he said as he turned to look at her. She stood in his driveway, hands on hips and fire in her eyes.
“Don’t Dixie me, you slug.”
Homicidal.
“I guess you’re not glad to see me.”
“You guess right.” She tossed something at him.
If he’d been a half a second faster he wouldn’t have ended up with a pair of his underwear in his face.
“And no, I didn’t wash them.” She spun on her heel and stalked off.
Astounded at the depth of her anger, he… Hell, he couldn’t claim surprise. He’d treated her like a one-night stand after a late night pick up in a bar. He’d had a couple of those and woke up in the morning praying for redemption and no diseases. He’d been lucky.
Dixie hadn’t.
Underwear in hand, he trotted after her. “Dixie!” She kept going. “Dixie! Wait up! Let me explain.”
She turned suddenly and he slid to a stop so he didn’t tackle her. Although he wanted to.
“Explain what? How you spent an entire afternoon on my couch, in my bed, in me, and ran like the devil was on your heels when your precious permit came in? Was I that unforgettable? That unimportant?”
Dismay set in when he saw the tears of anger collecting in her blue eyes. “No! You’ve got it all wrong. That’s not why I left! It was, just, uh…the permit came at a bad time, I guess.”
“Oh. That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
He took the chance and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned away a bit but didn’t shake him off. “I didn’t—couldn’t—forget you,” he told her as he stroked her cheek. “I had a delightful time that afternoon.”
This time she stepped away. He dropped his hands.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving town? Why run out the door with a ‘see ya later’?”
“I had to get the project moving forward. I met with my contractor, bought some kayaks and jet skis and things I need to set up shop. That’s all.”
“If that’s true, why didn’t you tell me?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not in the habit of reporting to anyone what I’m doing. I don’t need, I mean, I had a lot of things to do if I’m going to open on time.”
He didn’t like the look of defeat on Dixie’s face. “I handled this badly, I know. But it wasn’t because of you, Dix. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I had to leave town right away. I’m sorry you were hurt.”
“Yes, you handled it badly but you’re only sorry I made a big deal out of it.”
What do you do when even an apology isn’t enough?
“That’s not what I said, Dixie.”
“Close enough.”
He thought it over for a moment. “I can’t win this, can I?”
“There’s no win or lose, Brand. Just honesty. And you were honest enough to tell me, when pressured, that I was simply an afternoon delight until your permit came in.”
As Dixie walked away, he wrapped his arms around his head and bent over trying to fill in the emptiness inside. He couldn’t get as low as he felt any more than he could make it up to Dixie. He’d treated her badly. He’d turned an afternoon of loving into something cheap.
And here he was, dealing with relationship-level crises when he wasn’t even in one.
Galli came up and licked his face. He cupped the dog’s large head and gave him a good rub. “I’m surprised you didn’t go with her.”
Galli whined, sat down and lifted his paw.