Truth About Men & Dogs

by Andrea Simonne

  “Get started on what?”

  “Your room.”

  My brows came together with surprise. “My room?”

  “Yes. Didn’t Doug call yesterday?”

  “He did.” I nodded. My eyes went behind him to Doug’s truck sitting in my driveway.

  “Okay, good.”

  I was confused. “Where’s Doug? Why are you here?”

  Irritation rippled across his handsome features. He wore jeans and a navy T-shirt that made his irises seem darker and bluer. There was a day’s worth of black stubble on his face, and he did sort of look like an outlaw. What he didn’t look like was a man who had any kind of health affliction, unless being an asshat counted.

  “What did Doug tell you when you spoke yesterday?”

  I got a prickle of unease, like maybe I was missing something in this conversation. “I didn’t actually speak to him,” I admitted.

  “He didn’t leave a message?”

  I licked my lips. “I haven’t had a chance to listen to his messages.” I knew I should have, but I didn’t feel like it last night, and then I forgot this morning.

  Philip sighed. “Doug had to leave. His mother was in the ER.”

  “Oh? I hope she’s okay.”

  “She’s fine. But I’m here to take over for the next two days.”

  Now I wished I’d listened to those messages. I assumed it was Doug gushing about the date I was going to have to cancel. “Excuse me, but did you say you’re going to take over the work on my room?”

  “Yes, that’s correct. For two days.”

  “But do you even work in construction?”

  “No.”

  “Are you licensed and bonded for this?”

  “No.”

  “Then why on earth would you take over for him? I didn’t hire you. I hired Doug!”

  “You’re right.” He nodded. “You did hire Doug, and I’m happy to leave if that’s what you prefer.”

  I pulled my robe tighter around myself, feeling justifiably indignant. “Yes, I believe that is what I prefer. That’s what I’m paying for, after all.”

  He stared down at the ground before hitting me with that electric gaze. “I know it’s irregular, but Doug asked me to fill in since I have some experience with this kind of project. He figured you didn’t want to wait until next week.”

  I considered his words but didn’t say anything.

  He looked through the paperwork he was holding. A clipboard and an iPad. Doug had used one when he was here yesterday to take photos and notes. “Look, I’m mostly here to make sure the drywall guy gets started on the insulation.” He paused and pulled out a piece of paper, holding it up for me. “And I can assure you he is licensed and bonded because I checked it myself. So what’s it going to be?”

  I sniffed, eyeing the paper. “Well, I just don’t know.”

  “All right, suit yourself.” He turned around and began to walk away.

  I thought of all the boxes of cleaning supplies stacked in my small living area, the bags of cleaning cloths, the extra polo shirts I’d ordered because they gave me a discount if I bought them in bulk. My laptop was crammed into the corner. I’d been forced to use one of the boxes as a desk.

  He was halfway down the path before I spoke up. “Wait! Do you really have experience with this kind of project?”

  He stopped and looked at me over his shoulder, then sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Okay. I’ve changed my mind. It’s only for two days, right?”

  He appeared to be thinking it over. Finally, he shook his head. “Forget it.”

  I opened my mouth. “What?”

  “You should just wait for Doug to get back. Although the drywall guy might not be available again for a while, but maybe you’ll get lucky.” He continued to walk toward the truck, and, to my annoyance, I had to chase after him in my bathrobe and bare feet.

  “I want you to get started right away,” I said, panicked at the thought of this going on for weeks.

  He was near the front bumper with me right behind him when he abruptly turned. His brows rose as he seemed to take in what I was wearing. My robe wasn’t a mini, but it was short and above the knee.

  “I’ve reconsidered,” I said quickly. “I’m okay with you filling in.”

  A smile played around the edges of his mouth as he stared at my bare legs. “All right, I suppose I could do it.”

  “Great.” I hugged myself against the early morning chill and could feel his eyes on me. I wasn’t exactly a leggy supermodel—which, if everything Leah said was true, was probably what he was used to. But then something else occurred to me. “I don’t want a repeat of the other day when you stole my phone.” I gave him a pointed look. “That better not happen again.”

  His smile grew wider. His gaze went back to my legs, then trailed up until they met my eyes. “I guess that all depends.”

  My body tingled from the way he was looking at me, and I found it difficult to breathe. “On what?” I managed to say.

  He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “On whether you have anything else worth stealing.”

  His expression was sly and playful. He was close enough that I could smell him—soap and the scent of a clean male.

  I had this crazy desire to touch him.

  My mind flashed back to when he’d carried me on the beach the other day. The feel of those strong shoulders beneath my hands. I wondered what he’d say if I asked him to do it again.

  “Maybe you should carry me back to my front door,” I said, trying to sound saucy.

  Philip’s expression changed to confusion. “Huh?”

  I sucked in my breath, mortified. “Nothing,” I blurted, covering up my dumb attempt at flirtation. “I was just kidding.”

  His eyes went to my foot. “You want me to carry you? Is your ankle still bothering you?”

  “No, it’s fine. It was only a joke.” I laughed, though it sounded more like I was coughing up a hairball.

  He glanced back at the house. “Okay, then. I’ll get started on that room.”

  “Yes,” I said, my face burning. “That would be great.”

  “I need to make a phone call first and grab a few things.”

  “All right.”

  I went back inside and got dressed, chastising myself the whole time. It had been ages since I’d flirted with a guy. I sounded like a nitwit.

  By the time I was dressed, Philip was at the door again. I decided the best way to handle this situation was to remain cordial and nothing more. I’d treat him like any other contractor.

  “There’s a fresh pot of coffee,” I said politely, letting him in. He followed me to the kitchen. “Would you like a cup before you start?”

  “No thanks, I don’t drink coffee.”

  I nodded. “It’s not good for your blood pressure anyway.”

  He was looking through the paperwork in his hand but stopped to glance at me. “My what?”

  “Your high blood pressure. At least you’re managing it. My father had it too and could be stubborn about it. In fact, he was also a workaholic. Just make sure you take your medication. That’s very important.”

  He seemed mystified. “I don’t have high blood pressure. Where did you get that idea?”

  “From your sister. When she said they forced you into a vacation because of your health.”

  Philip chuckled and shook his head. “Food poisoning, not high blood pressure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I ate food from a couple of street vendors when I was in Mexico City recently and got mild food poisoning.”

  “Oh.” I took that in, feeling slightly silly for my assumptions. “Well, eating from a street vendor in Mexico doesn’t sound smart either.”

  He shrugged. “I normally have a cast iron stomach.”

  “Obviously it didn’t protect you.”

  “Yes.” His voice was dry. “That’s been pointed out to me.” His gaze shifted behind me, fixating on something in
the other room.

  I turned to see what it was, but the only things there were my bed and the large cage with my parakeets inside. “Those are my birds.”

  His gaze moved back to me.

  “My parakeets. Isn’t that what you’re looking at?”

  He nodded but seemed to study me like he was trying to figure something out.

  “They’re shy around strangers.”

  He went back to his paperwork, and I began to wonder if Leah was confusing him with someone else. While he had a commanding presence, he didn’t seem like some big-time finance guy. His dark hair was shaggy and in need of a haircut, and he wore a pair of beat-up Adidas tennis shoes.

  Surely he’d at least have new sneakers if he were that successful. And why would he be filling in for Doug?

  As Philip talked about the construction project, I couldn’t resist admiring his body. His T-shirt was fitted enough that I could see how solid he was beneath it. I’d bet he looked amazing. It wouldn’t surprise me if he even had a six-pack. I almost wished I could ask him to strip down and show me.

  “So I’ll grab those for you today,” he said. “Unless you want to get them yourself.”

  My eyes flashed to his face. I’d been so busy imagining him without a shirt that I hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “Um… get what exactly?”

  “The samples.”

  “Samples?”

  “Yes, for the flooring.” He seemed impatient. “What else would I be talking about?”

  “There’s no need to get snippy. And yes, I would prefer it if you got the samples.”

  His mouth twitched. “Did you just call me snippy?”

  “You are being snippy.”

  As he chuckled, his phone began to play spaghetti western music. He answered it with a quick “What’s up?”

  I took that as my cue to leave.

  On the drive over to my first cleaning job, I called Laurie and Kyle to remind them about some schedule changes this week. I also called a couple of my elderly clients to see if they needed me to make a grocery store run, which two of them did. It was a busy morning, and by the time lunch rolled around, I was glad for the break.

  I parked my car in its usual spot along the water facing the harbor. My coffee from this morning was cold, but I sipped it anyway as I admired all the sailboats.

  I thought some more about Philip, feeling mortified. I reminded myself he was still the asshat who took my phone. Then I remembered the situation with Doug and realized I was stuck. There was no way I could call and cancel our date while his mother was having health problems.

  As I started the second half of my tuna sandwich, the passenger door of my car opened and some guy jumped inside.

  “Hey!” I yelped in alarm. It took me a second to realize it was Ethan.

  He grinned at me, closing the door. “I thought I’d say hello.”

  “Are you crazy? You nearly gave me a heart attack. You can’t just jump into a person’s car like that.”

  His expression turned sheepish. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I saw you parked here and figured we could talk.”

  “We have nothing to talk about. Get out.”

  Ethan's hazel eyes were imploring behind his glasses. “I know I handled things badly the other night. I didn’t mean to insult you. Honestly, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  I put my sandwich down, trying to control my temper. “I’m fine. Now please leave.”

  Instead of leaving, he slid his gaze over the interior of my car. “It’s funny, I’ve seen this car around town before, but I never knew it belonged to you.”

  I picked up my sandwich and took another bite, determined not to let him ruin my short lunch break.

  He grinned. “It’s obviously hard to miss.”

  I chewed with determination.

  He shifted in the passenger seat, smoothing down his gray suit and dark green tie. An expensive gold watch on his wrist. Shiny loafers on his feet. He looked more like a successful financier than that scruffy outlaw back at my house. He didn’t have that sense of command though. Philip struck me as formidable. Ethan still came across as the charming good guy, always ready to please. Ironically, I used to love that about him. I loved how he was always ready to help a friend or family member in need. That was why I believed him when he told me he was helping Ivy move her stuff into her new place or helping her set up her computer. I was proud to have a husband like that. Little did I know he was helping her in other ways too.

  “So how is business going?” He leaned back, getting more comfortable. “You know, I’d be glad to take over and do your taxes for you or offer advice. There’s no need to pay someone. That’s just throwing money away.”

  I didn’t say anything and continued to eat my sandwich.

  “It’s no trouble at all. You don’t even need to make an appointment.”

  It would be a frigid day in hell before I let him touch my taxes. I picked up my cold coffee. “No thank you. I’ve already found someone.”

  “Are you sure? Because I want to help, Claire. Any way I can.”

  “I’m very sure.”

  He nodded, his eyes on my face.

  Neither of us spoke, and there was a weird intimacy sitting in my car with him like this. I didn’t want it, but I couldn’t deny it either. It came from years of being together, years where I’d believed this was the man I’d be spending the rest of my life with.

  “I don’t know why you’re here,” I said, “but you need to get out of my car.”

  His eyes were still on me. “You’ve changed. You’re harder than you used to be.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  He leaned closer. “I’ll bet you’re still soft on the inside.”

  I was tempted to pull out my pepper spray and blast him in the face, see if he still called me soft then.

  I shoved the plastic wrap from my sandwich back in with the rest of my lunch. “What do you want?”

  “And you’re still into pirates, I see.” He nodded toward my lunch box.

  “Look, we’re not friends, okay? I’m not going to sit here and make nice with you. I’m sure Ivy wouldn’t appreciate you being here either.”

  “It doesn’t have to be so awful between us. I’ve been thinking about all the good times we used to have. Do you ever think about us?”

  “No.” I mostly tried to forget he existed.

  He looked out at the ships in the harbor. “Remember the first time you took me sailing on your dad’s boat back in high school? The way you saved me from being decapitated by the sail?”

  “The boom,” I corrected him.

  “And then I almost fell overboard.” He chuckled. “Thank God, you knew what you were doing, or we’d have been lost at sea.”

  It was true. He’d been a terrible sailor right from the start.

  He lowered his voice. “And then that night on the water together. Just you and me, talking and gazing at the stars and… doing other things.” He smiled. “That was amazing.”

  It was the first time we were intimate together. The first time I’d been intimate with anyone.

  “We have so many great memories. How did this happen?” Ethan seemed frustrated. “I never meant for things to be so wretched between us.”

  I sighed. This had always been one of his biggest flaws. Instead of taking responsibility for his own life, he shifted the blame. “None of this happened to you like you’re some kind of innocent bystander.”

  “Being back here and seeing you again… it’s like I’ve woken up to discover everything has spun out of control. This was never how I imagined my future.”

  “You made a choice, remember? You chose Ivy.” Or she chose him, which was also accurate. Probably more accurate. Though it didn’t really matter.

  He shook his head, still gazing out at the water. “It’s like I’ve been in a dream state or something, and now I’m finally awake.”

  I rolled my eyes. Besides being a spineless cheater, Ethan a
lso had a flare for the melodramatic.

  He turned to me, and I was surprised by the emotion on his face. He really did look miserable. Despite everything, a tiny part of me responded. I’d loved him once and trusted him with my whole heart. He’d been my world back then, and I hated to see him unhappy.

  But then I remembered the horrible day I discovered he was cheating on me. The day I walked in to find Ethan on Ivy’s couch with his pants around his ankles. She was on top fucking him. His hands gripped her hips as he groaned with pleasure. The pain was like ice water shooting through my veins. It froze my heart solid.

  “I’ve already woken up from that dream,” I said in a cold voice. “Welcome to reality.”

  Chapter Nine

  ~ Philip ~

  “What the hell do you mean, you’re not coming back today?” I held the phone to my ear in disbelief, listening to Doug’s warbling voice tell me he was still in Seattle and that his mother still needed him.

  “She’s decided to… move. She wants me to stay here longer and help her fix up the house to sell.”

  “Have you explained that you have a job? That you run your own business?”

  “I have… but she says she needs me here. What can I do?”

  “You can tell your mother that she’ll have to wait until you have more time.” I just spent the last two days covering for him while putting my own work on hold. Initially, I’d intended to squeeze in both, but it turned out Doug’s business was a mess. No wonder things were slow for him. When I stopped by the local hardware store to get flooring samples, I discovered Bradley Wood & Paint wasn’t even listed as a contractor in their database. An oversight I immediately rectified.

  “Oh.” He sniffed. “I could never do that.”

  “What did Claire say when you told her?” Though we hadn’t spoken to each other much, after two days in her house, it was obvious she was decent and hardworking and didn’t deserve to be flaked out on like this.

  I could hear Doug’s heavy breathing on the line. “I haven’t exactly told her yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was hoping you could fill in for me on the job a little longer—just through next week!”