by Marie Harte
“Your loss.” He took the empty s’mores plate to the kitchen. Then he returned and looked down at Avery. “And you. Stop stressing so hard. Tomorrow will be fine. With any luck, Banana is busy. Because you get another dog humping your leg and I’m pretty sure you’ll end up a bad meme. Something none of us want.”
Gerty grinned. “Although, I could make it something fun and funny. Maybe—”
“No.” Avery walked Alan out, giving him a hug as he left. She returned to the living room and shook her head. “I can’t believe he knew about Jim and never said anything.”
“I told you Jim was a dick the minute I met him.”
“No, you told me our signs didn’t align, and considering you didn’t know anything about him at the time, that was pretty suspect.”
“I just didn’t like him.” Gerty paused. “But I like Brad. He’s a dick you know, yes, but watching him at the festival, I realized you don’t know all of him.” She grinned. “Did you hear that? All of him? Seems to me like there’s a lot of Super Hunk to get to know. If you know what I mean.”
“Gerty, you’re about as subtle as a brick wall.”
Gerty laughed. “Might not be a bad way to break your sad dating streak.”
“You’re the one in the dry spell. Why don’t you date him?” Yet the thought of Gerty with Brad didn’t sit right.
“Ha. Yeah, right. I’m not poaching Super Hunk FD from my best gal.” Gerty left the living room and came back with her rescue dog, whom she’d named Klingon. The three-legged Lab puppy was wiggling his little heart out. Then he tinkled on the carpet.
“Crap. Quick, get the pet spray!” Gerty grabbed a leash and doggie bags and raced outside with Klingon. She returned ten minutes later to find the room cleaned up.
You’re welcome, Gerty. A good thing Avery had taken the puppy out an hour ago or they might have had quite a mess to deal with.
“All good.” Avery looked at the now-cleaned carpet, at Gerty holding a smiling Klingon, and told herself tomorrow would be “all good” as well. She just had to keep Brad Battle in the corner of her brain marked professional and pray the Pets Fur Life rep didn’t try to pawn a cat on her and instigate a sneezing fit.
Did Brad prefer dogs or cats? She should ask him that. Nothing too personal. Stuff relating to animals and the fire department. Yes, she could handle that. Fun banter, nothing deep.
What she couldn’t handle were the dreams of him, shirtless, carrying her up a flight of stairs into a bed surrounded by clouds, then proceeding to give her mouth-to-mouth for a very long time…
Chapter Six
At six forty-five on Friday morning, Brad looked around Searching the Needle Weekly’s tiny video studio, intrigued by the low stage, the lighting, and the cameras. Behind the cameras was room for a small audience, though the room appeared empty save for the folding chairs stacked in a chair cart against the wall.
An older man stood on the set. When the man turned, Brad recognized him as a funny old guy named Rupert, the nephew to Brad’s octogenarian landlady. Rupert and his eccentric girlfriend often took in strays, and they’d started taking them in for Pets Fur Life.
Brad didn’t ask questions, just accepted that Rupert wanted to help and did what he was told. Brad and his crew had been helping with adoptions lately, and they had another one coming up on Sunday.
He just had to get through this stupid live video thing.
Glancing around, he spotted his brother watching from behind the cameras, offstage, next to the blond from the festival—Gerty, he remembered Avery calling her.
He returned the wave Oscar sent him. Gerty narrowed her eyes and asked his brother something. Oscar grinned before turning to her, and their conversation seemed to heat up. Content his brother had a new friend, Brad looked to Rupert for a sign to get this show on the road.
Rupert, dressed in a suit that would have fit right in during the ’70s, with frizzy brown hair threaded with gray and smiling eyes, crossed to him walking a large dog on a leash, a smaller one cradled against his chest. “Nice to see you, Brad.”
“I like your friends.” He smiled at the dogs, who seemed a little nervous.
Then Avery walked into Brad’s view, all glammed up, and spoke to the cameraman. He had trouble catching his breath. Had Avery’s legs always been that long? And her hair, it seemed wavier today, a bit of a bounce to that dark, silky mane. In profile, her curves were just…wow.
“Son, you okay? Hey, Brad, which do you want to go with? Henri or Rockslide?”
“What?” Brad did his best not to look flushed. But hell, he hadn’t gotten a cup of coffee yet, and Avery looked amazing in a flowy skirt, form-fitting blouse, and heels. Even worse, she wasn’t wearing glasses, and her eyes seemed to dominate her face. Or maybe it was her slick, cherry-red lips. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I need caffeine. I was in here a little after six to get ‘made up.’”
Rupert sighed. “I hear ya.” Sixty-plus years young, dating a ballbuster of a woman who had erotic figurines decorating a house time had forgotten, Rupert could always be counted on to be entertaining.
“You were asking what, exactly?”
“Avery wanted to know if you preferred to hold Henri or Rockslide first. Henri, short for Henrietta, is this little Yorkie. She’s cute but snappy. Rockslide is the sad-looking pit bull.”
“Gimme the pit.”
Rupert grinned. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Oh, wait, there’s Emil. I need to talk to him. Be right back.” He left the pit bull with Brad and carried Henri with him.
Rockslide wagged his tail and grinned, and Brad couldn’t help smiling. He had a thing for the much-maligned breed. Dogs were inherently good, in his opinion. People had made the mistake of turning them into killers. At heart, most canines just wanted love and affection.
Avery had joined Rupert and an older man. She was petting the little Yorkie, and he found himself wanting to trade places with the dog.
Which got his guard up. He had no intention of doing anything more than acting professional. Friendly but not too friendly. Heck, maybe he needed to start dating again if the sight of Avery’s fashion sense had him so hot and bothered.
“I need a drink,” he muttered as he bent down to let Rockslide sniff his hand. The dog took a step back at the closeness and needed a few seconds to warm up to him, but once he did, Rockslide stared up at him with love. Brad kept reminding himself he couldn’t keep the guy. One, he worked bad hours for a pet, especially when at the station where he couldn’t take care of the dog. Two, he spent enough time handling his family and his inability to let things go. And three… Avery was walking over. He needed to get his head on right.
“Hi, Brad.” She looked him over, not sexually but critically.
His dander went right on up. “Avery.” He smiled and gave her the same once-over. Except deep down, he catalogued the lovely shape of her breasts, her hips and waist, and the slender calves shown off by those blue pumps. “No glasses today?” That seemed safe enough.
She blushed. “No. I usually wear contacts for indoor filming stuff. I’ve only done a few segments before this one, but today will be quick and easy. I’ve already talked to Rupert. He said he knows you.”
Brad nodded and stuffed his hands in his uniform pockets. He’d worn his Class B uniform, usually referred to as his nomex—for the material from which it had been made. The same official blue working uniform he’d worn at the festival, but this time pressed to within an inch of its life. “His aunt is my landlady. He’s a good guy, helps take in animals until we can find them a good home.”
“We?”
“Pets Fur Life. The guys and I have been helping with the animals for the past year, and even when we moved stations, we decided to continue. It’s good press for the station, and we love animals.”
She seemed to soften. Then she shocked him by reaching out and rubbi
ng his collar—very close to his racing pulse. “Sorry. You had a little smudge on your uniform. Makeup, I think.” She didn’t seem to be making fun of him, so he thanked her and took a subtle step back.
“So, how are we doing this?” he asked.
Her rundown seemed simple. He would stand by while Rupert talked about Pets Fur Life. Then she would introduce herself and Brad, and Brad would introduce Rockslide, who had yet to take his loving eyes off him. They’d talk about dogs and pet rescues. Maybe she’d ask him something about being a firefighter. Nothing too strenuous. She handed him a note card with details on each pet, easy enough to remember.
“I think he likes you.” Avery smiled and bent down to pet the dog, who sighed with pleasure and leaned into her. Avery seemed to wobble on her heels.
Brad could just see disaster written on the set and grabbed her by the arm to steady her.
She straightened, her eyes bright, and smiled. “Thanks. I’m a little uneven today.”
“Uneven?” An old girlfriend had always referred to herself as uneven before adjusting her bra, which had Brad automatically looking down at Avery’s chest. A brief glimpse he’d had no intention of taking. Unfortunately, she caught him looking. “What’s uneven?” he asked, trying to play it off.
They both stared at each other, faces red.
Awkward.
She forced a smile. “I’m not used to these shoes, but my favorite pair snapped a heel.”
“Bummer. I wore my favorite pair today. Nice, huh? They make my legs look terrific.” He showed off his black boots, easing the tension.
Great job, Battle. Keep it up and you’ll go down for sexual harassment in no time.
She laughed, thankfully. “With that sense of humor, we’ll have the segment up and running with tons of people calling in for the dogs.”
“Right.”
Before he knew it, he and Avery stood next to each other on the small set, which consisted of a bar table with a phone, a bouquet of fresh flowers, and a backdrop of the city overlaid by the Searching the Needle Weekly logo. The bright lights centered on the stage made it impossible to see their audience, though he knew his brother and Gerty watched.
And wonder of wonders, they were streaming live. No correcting any mistakes. They had to get it right the first time. He should have felt more nervous, but public speaking had never bothered him. Though Brad didn’t care for being the focus of attention, he performed well under stress. And standing close enough that he could smell Avery’s light perfume definitely counted as stress.
Rupert introduced himself, made small talk with Avery, then turned the show over to her. She introduced herself and Brad while Brad kept an eye on Rockslide to behave. The pit was a gentleman until Avery drew closer. She had to be wearing some kind of dog-attracting perfume. That or she’d smuggled bacon in her skirt because Rockslide couldn’t get close enough to her.
“Damn it,” he muttered as he struggled to get the dog to obey. “Sit,” he said in a firm voice. Rockslide froze, looked up at him, and sat on command.
“Wow, he’s trained.” Avery beamed and petted the enthusiastic bruiser. “And such a sweetie. Folks, you should see how lovely Rockslide is. He’s only two years old, still a puppy really. He was found abandoned in a condemned house, chained up in the basement, all alone. So sad, skinny, dehydrated, and scared. But with a little love and TLC, he’s turned into a seventy-five-pound bone lover.” She rushed bone and lover, making them sound as if one word.
Rupert blinked. The set seemed to freeze.
Brad heard seventy-five-pound boner and did his best not to laugh. Rupert and a few others around them coughed to mask their amusement, though he swore he heard Oscar’s loud laugh.
“What?” Avery asked, her smile starting to fade.
“Ah, right. So, Rockslide really likes being petted.” Brad leaned down to hug the guy, which got him uber happy. Rockslide started licking him wherever the dog could reach. He nearly toppled back but had steadied himself, crouched and on one knee.
Avery tried to lend a hand. “Hold on. Oomph.” The dog nudged her for kisses. She would have fallen…except Brad had a hold of her legs, keeping her upright. An accidental grab that caused every cell in his body to freeze.
He couldn’t help feeling the silky smoothness of her skin, his left hand perilously high up on her thigh under her skirt.
“Well, now, what a good dog.” Avery’s voice had risen.
Brad needed to stand up, but the dog was blocking him, and honestly, his hold on Avery did as much to steady him as it did to steady her.
Rupert did nothing to stem his laughter. “Hey there, Brad. Great job giving Avery a hand.”
The person working the camera laughed, as did more from behind the camera. Apparently, others had come in to watch the show.
“For goodness’ sake.” Avery took a step to the side and reached up to fiddle with glasses that weren’t there. She put a strand of hair behind her ear instead. Then she glared down at him and said through a forced smile, “Wow, you firefighters sure are handsy. I mean, handy.”
Handsy? Brad rose easily to his feet and smiled back at her. “No worries, Avery. I was glad to be here to lend you that hand. But hey, it’s a good thing I was here to save you again.” He stared into her eyes so she couldn’t miss the mean glint in his gaze.
“Again?” Rupert asked.
Avery studied Brad as if she’d forgotten they had cameras on them. The dog sat like a rock by her feet, and she stroked his head absently. “It’s so great that we citizens of Seattle can count on the brave firefighters of our city to save us from ourselves,” she teased, but he saw the flare of anger she couldn’t hide.
Rockslide chose that moment to nudge under her skirt, sniffing her legs.
“Whoa,” she gasped. “Geez, he’s curious.”
“Well, he’s a guy. Can’t blame him for trying,” Brad muttered, annoyed enough to feel the same “curiosity” for the snarky reporter.
“So you’re saying all guys are dogs?”
“Nope.” Brad did his best to remain cheerful. “But Rockslide is, and he seems to like you. Hey, just like Banana did! Remember that cute Lab you were ‘dancing’ with at the festival? Dogs really like you.”
She smiled through her teeth. “My, the compliments are going to my head. What a charmer you are. Say, Brad, are you single?”
“I—what?” That didn’t seem like fun banter. That seemed a little personal. Unless she was asking for herself? On TV? His heart raced.
“We’re here to get Rockslide adopted, but maybe we can find someone to adopt you too.”
A few people watching laughed. Rockslide barked on cue, encouraging more laughter.
He gave a fake smile, pretending she wasn’t jumping on his last nerve.
“Are you housebroken?” Avery seemed to enjoy his discomfort.
“No, but Rockslide is.” He would be the better person here. He could do it. No, he couldn’t. Two could play at this game. He’d out-humane her. “Rockslide is one terrific dog. As we’ve said, he’s housebroken, loves to play fetch, and wants a family. But he’s a one-dog family. Like most men, he doesn’t want to share what he loves.”
“Right. I… What?”
She looked confused.
Brad turned to the camera and smiled. “Look at this great guy. His tail is wagging. He’s so happy for affection. Like so many of us, he’s been burned before. Rockslide, by the family that deserted him. So many other men, by the women who broke their hearts.”
“Oh, please.”
Rupert was grinning. “That’s true, Brad. Some women just don’t care how hard you work to put food on the table or how many sacrifices you make to keep them safe and happy. They have a roving eye.”
Avery blinked. “What does that have to do with Rockslide?” She paused. “What does that have to do with me?”
Ha. Call me handsy when all I’m trying to do is save you from falling while streaming live. “Why nothing…unless the shoe fits.”
Avery looked ready to combust.
He grinned at her and crouched down to pet Rockslide.
Rupert watched them, looking from Avery to Brad and back again. “Um, we also have Henri here?”
Avery stalked to Rupert and gently took Henri in her arms. “You know, Brad you make a great point. Let’s look at poor Henrietta. Henri for short. She’s a lovely little Yorkshire terrier, given up because her owner wanted a new puppy and didn’t want to take care of an older dog too.”
“That’s not right. Pets are family and should be with you for life,” Brad said, meaning it.
“I agree.” She nuzzled Henri under the dog’s chin. “She’s a sweetie.” She held the dog to him. “Done wrong by a man wanting a younger woman.”
He took the dog in hand and rolled his eyes. “That’s such a common stereotype. Not all men want a younger woman, you know.”
“Sadly,” she said, ignoring him, and turned to the camera, “Henri feels hurt and abandoned and is having trouble trusting men again.”
“Yeah? Because she seems to be trusting me just fine.” Brad cuddled the little dog while Rockslide leaned into him, wanting attention.
“She also loves cats, kids, and other dogs. She’s got so much love to give.” Avery was pouring it on thick. “And yet a man did her wrong.”
The phone on the desk rang, and Rupert picked it up. He murmured something, then paused to say in a louder voice, “Hey, Avery and Brad, the station manager said we have a lot of calls asking about Henri and Rockslide. But wait a minute.” He went back to the caller and paused again. “One lady wants to know if she gets a date with Brad if she takes on Rockslide.”
Avery grinned. “That’s a great deal.”
“Now hold on,” Brad said, not liking the turn the show had taken. This wasn’t The Bachelorette!
Rupert grinned like a loon. “Well, we also have a few gentlemen wondering if you’re single, Avery. Gosh, this is like a dating show! Let’s find homes for dogs, cats, Avery, and Brad!”