Truth About Men & Dogs

by Andrea Simonne

  “You could teach me how to sail,” he coaxed. “And I’ll teach you how to drink rum and curse like a sailor.”

  I laughed. “I think I could figure that out on my own.”

  “Hey, who’s got the pirate blood, you or me?”

  I smiled, then thought of something. “I can’t leave my business.” I knew it was crazy to turn down a trip to the Caribbean, and I could already hear Leah and Theo having a conniption. “I’m the only one running things, you know?”

  “I know, but it wouldn’t be for that long. Just a week or so.”

  “I thought you were this crazed workaholic, that your mom and sister had to kidnap you into taking a vacation.”

  He chuckled. “I am.”

  “So now you’re trying to kidnap me into taking a vacation?”

  “I guess I’ll do anything to see you in a string bikini,” he teased, sliding his hand along my hip. But then he looked at me with interest. “You don’t happen to own one, do you?”

  “A string bikini?” The only thing I had was a worn-out one-piece that didn’t fit anymore. “No.”

  “That’s okay, I’ll buy you one.”

  “I can buy it myself.”

  He shook his head. “I know exactly the kind I want you to wear, so I’m buying it.”

  I watched him as he seemed to go over the whole thing in his mind. I played with a strand of his black hair, silky beneath my fingers. “You have a rich fantasy life, don’t you?”

  He wore a hint of a smile. “I do.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.” Few people would guess it, I was sure. Despite his success, it occurred to me that Philip was a very private man.

  He jokingly batted his lashes. “What can I say? I’m an enigma wrapped in a riddle tied in a bow.”

  I laughed at his expression. “I don’t know if Quicksilver would approve.”

  “Then to hell with him.” He shifted position a little, his arm still around me, but then he winced.

  “Hey, are you in pain?”

  “I’m fine.” He shook his head. “I hurt my hand earlier, but it’s nothing.”

  “How did you hurt your hand?”

  “Something stupid. You don’t want to know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned in and kissed me. “Let’s talk more about string bikinis and our trip to the Caribbean. I’m not done with that subject.”

  “Which hand did you hurt?”

  He drew back and sighed. “My right one.”

  I looked over my shoulder. I was lying on his right arm with his hand on my pillow. I sat up a little. “Let me see it.”

  “It’s fine,” he said, though he gave it to me anyway.

  I gently examined it, and even in the candlelight, I could tell it was more than he was letting on. “This doesn’t look like nothing. You obviously injured yourself. It’s swollen.”

  Philip took his hand from me and looked at it. He flexed it a little and winced again. “It wasn’t bothering me much earlier, but it’s starting to ache like a sonofabitch now.”

  “What did you do to it?”

  He was quiet. “I punched the porch rail in front of the beach house.”

  “You did?” My eyes widened. “Why would you do that?”

  “I had an unwelcome visitor today.”

  “Who?”

  He shifted on the bed again and let his breath out. “My father.”

  I watched him. His jaw was tense, body rigid. His entire demeanor had changed. A few seconds ago, he was relaxed and playful, but now he was back in command mode.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  Philip seemed guarded. I knew what that was like, so I tried a different tactic. “You said this is the beginning for us, right?”

  His eyes went to mine. “Yes.”

  “Isn’t this the kind of thing you’d share with me, then?”

  He remained silent. “It is. And I will tell you about him, but not tonight, okay?” He took my hand in the one he hadn’t injured. “This is our first night together. I want it to be special.”

  I considered his earnest expression. I wanted it to be special too.

  “He doesn’t deserve our time, Claire. Not one minute of it.”

  I looked down at his swollen right hand. I couldn’t imagine Philip so angry he’d punch a porch rail. “Let me at least get you some ice for your hand.”

  “I’m fine. Do you have any kind of food though? I’m starving.”

  “Mmm, I guess I’d better feed you.” I leaned over to kiss him. “Because I’m definitely not done with you yet.”

  We both got up. There was a chill in the air, so I put on my white satin bathrobe. “I have another robe. Would you like to borrow it?”

  He shrugged. “I doubt it would fit me.”

  “It might. It’s bigger than this one.” I went over to my closet and pulled out the robe Violet gave me for Christmas last year. It was a pink fleece, so I only wore it during the winter months.

  Philip slipped it on. It was tight around his shoulders and stopped above the knee but otherwise fit okay. “How do I look?” he asked.

  “Very pretty.”

  He ran his hand down the front of the robe, over the ruffled lapel. “It’s soft.” He grinned. “I’m feeling glamorous.”

  I laughed. Despite the girly bathrobe, he looked more masculine than ever, like it emphasized his maleness.

  We went into the kitchen together. Despite what he’d said, I gave Philip an ice pack from the freezer and a couple of aspirin, which he accepted without complaint, so I figured he was in real pain.

  “Would you like a sandwich?” I was glad I’d gone grocery shopping earlier. “Or there’s hummus and pita bread.”

  “Let’s have both.” He stood next to me, leaning against the kitchen counter and holding the ice pack against his hand. His silver eyes found mine in the darkness, and there was a smile in them. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

  “We should probably eat the ice cream for dessert too. I think it’s melting.”

  We took all the food back over to the bed. As we ate, Philip checked his phone to make sure his mom and sister were okay.

  I texted Violet, though Sullivan House had a generator, so I doubted the storm even made much of an impression on her.

  “Anything from your mom and sister?” I asked, opening the bag of pita bread.

  “They’re fine.” He was reading from the screen. “My sister’s staying with a friend—one of the actresses from the play—and my mom is at the beach house.” He put his phone down. “Elliot is there with her.”

  I leaned over to dip some pita bread into the hummus. “That’s a good thing, right? She’s not alone.”

  “I guess.” He blew his breath out. “I’m trying to be open-minded about this.”

  “Come on, be happy for her. I know you haven’t met him yet, but you’ll like him.” I told Philip about some of my elderly clients, how their children were barely in the picture and seemed like jerks. “He’s not like that. He’s a good guy.”

  “All right, I believe you.”

  I grinned. “They’re probably up to the same thing we are tonight.”

  “Shit.” He smiled and tore off a chunk of pita bread, digging it into the hummus. “Probably, but I do not want to think about it. This is my mom we’re talking about.”

  “Sylvia’s also a grown woman who deserves love and happiness.”

  Philip paused and looked at me. “You’re right, she does.”

  “Did you tell her you’re over here with me?”

  He nodded. “I let my mom and sister both know.”

  “What’d they say?”

  “They’re happy for me. They like you.” He bit into the sandwich I’d made for him.

  “I like them too.” Sylvia and Eliza were great. I was glad they liked me. I suspected it would be very difficult for Philip to be seriously involved with a woman they disliked.

 
; His phone buzzed, and he picked it up again.

  “What is it?”

  “Dammit.” He sighed and shook his head. “My mom wants to know why the porch rail is broken.”

  “You actually broke it?”

  He nodded and texted something back to her. “Yeah. I’ll have to make sure it gets fixed.”

  “I take it she doesn’t know your dad was there today?”

  “No.” He glanced at me. “And I don’t intend on telling her either.”

  I stayed quiet. I didn’t understand the situation, so I figured the best thing was to keep my mouth shut.

  We finished the rest of the food, and then I got the melting ice cream from the freezer. It was a single container of chocolate, and we sat next to each other in bed as I took turns feeding us.

  “I have to confess something to you,” he said, swallowing a bite. “You might not like it.”

  I paused with the spoon in midair to glance over at him. “What?”

  “It’s not a big thing, but since we’re starting fresh, I want to be truthful.”

  “All right.” I remained still, wondering what this could be.

  “There was no meeting with a bike company on Saturday morning. I made the whole thing up.” He smiled uncomfortably. “It’s just that I was desperate to see you again.”

  “Oh, that.” I frowned. “I already know about that.” I dipped my spoon back into the ice cream.

  His brows went up. “You do?”

  “Eliza told me when we were riding together.” I hadn’t even been that surprised. The whole thing had sounded odd from the start.

  “You’re not angry?”

  “I was initially.” I offered him a spoonful of ice cream, and he opened his mouth. “But then I thought about it and realized you did it because I gave you no choice.” I was starting to understand Philip’s nature, how single-minded he could be, how driven. “You don’t let much stand in your way, do you?”

  His eyes stayed on mine. “No, I don’t. Especially when I want something.”

  “I expect nothing but the truth from now on though.”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  “Good.” I scraped the bottom of the container with my spoon. “Do you want the last bite?”

  “Only if you don’t.”

  I raised a brow. “Are you being truthful?”

  He chuckled. “All right, I want it. But only because I need to keep my strength up.” He leaned closer and slid his hand over my hip, lowering his voice. “The night’s not even half over, and it turns out you’re one hell of a handful, sweetheart.”

  “Here.” I offered him the last spoonful with a smirk. “You’re right. You are going to need your strength.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ~ Claire ~

  The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing.

  Philip appeared asleep, but his hands were awake. They slid down my body as I reached over him to grab the phone from my nightstand.

  “Who is it?” he asked, his voice husky. His eyes were half-lidded, watching me.

  “Violet.” I declined the call and put the phone on the bed beside me so I didn’t have to reach over him again.

  “You’re not going to answer it?”

  “No, I’ll check my messages later.” I snuggled down beside him, so warm and solid. I’d forgotten how wonderful it was to have a man in my bed. My hand drifted over his stomach, then lower to discover morning wood. “Mmm, what have we here?”

  “A present for you.”

  “I like these kinds of presents.”

  He chuckled softly. “Don’t I know it.”

  I smiled to myself. It had been quite a night. After years of feeling no passion at all, the floodgates had opened in a big way. It occurred to me that while I may have moved on from Ethan, I’d never moved on from the betrayal of a lover, from the way it froze me inside.

  Happily, the thaw had arrived.

  He shifted on the bed so we were face-to-face. “Be gentle with me, my pirate princess.”

  “Oh, I think you’re up to it.”

  His eyes were on me with affection. “Look at you,” he whispered. “Such a lusty wench.”

  “It’s your fault.”

  “I’m glad,” he murmured, rolling me onto my back, “because now I plan to take full advantage.”

  Later, after we’d had our fill of each other, I got up to remove the sheet from my birds’ cage. They were both flittering around, chirping enthusiastically. “Do you mind if I let them out?”

  “No, go ahead.” Philip was sitting up in bed with a pillow tucked behind his back, studying his phone.

  I opened the cage door and then climbed in beside him again. It felt luxurious to be lazing around like this. “I can’t remember the last time I slept in late and hung out in bed.”

  “Same here.” He pulled me in close so my head rested on his shoulder, then kissed my hair. “This is nice.”

  “How’s your hand?”

  “A little sore.”

  I noticed he was holding his phone with his left. “Can I see it?”

  He moved his arm from around me and held his right hand out for both of us to study.

  “It still looks bruised,” I commented, “but I think it’s less swollen than last night.”

  “I think you’re right.” He turned his hand this way and that, making a fist for a moment. “It was an idiotic thing to do.”

  “Should I get you more aspirin?”

  He shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll probably take some later.”

  I lay back down on his shoulder, and he went back to reading his phone. A thrill went through me as I studied his profile. My stomach tingled. I still couldn’t believe he was here beside me, that last night happened at all.

  Philip was reading something on Twitter with his brows furrowed. I didn’t even have to ask what he was doing. After being raised by a news junkie, I could tell he was getting his daily fix. I was tempted to pull my phone out too, but instead I continued to watch him. So handsome. I stroked his bristly jaw, reveling in the way I felt this morning. Happy and alive.

  I thought about yesterday, that determined expression he wore as he’d trudged through the woods toward me with the wind howling. “That was very romantic what you did—coming to find me in the storm like that.”

  “Mmm,” he rumbled, distracted.

  “Romantic but stupid.”

  He glanced at me. “Excuse me?”

  “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out near the shore in a storm? What were you thinking?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do know.” He put his phone down. “I nearly had my ass fried into a piece of bacon.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean lightning struck close enough to me on the beach that I could smell it.”

  I blinked at him, sick at the thought of what could have happened. He wouldn’t be the first person struck by lightning out there. “Please don’t do that again, okay? Promise me.”

  His eyes lingered on mine. “I promise. It’s just that I had to see you, and it couldn’t wait.”

  “Next time drive.”

  He chuckled. “Let’s hope there won’t be a next time.”

  I imagined him braving the elements. Despite everything, I had to admit it was romantic. No one had ever done anything like that for me.

  My birds were both out from the cage now, and I watched them fly to each of their favorite perches in the room, twittering happily. Quicksilver squawked a few times. They had pellets there for breakfast, but I figured I should get them some fruit too.

  There was a buzzing noise from the phone tucked beneath my pillow, and I reached for it. It was a text from Violet.

  Violet: Is your power still out? Come up to the house for a hot breakfast.

  I stared at her message and then glanced over at Philip. Should I tell her he’s here? She’d probably be scandalized. But then I thought of how she’d referred to me as “poor Claire”
the other day and felt a wave of irritation.

  Me: Philip stayed over last night. Is it all right if I invite him too?

  There was a long pause on Violet’s end, and I waited to see what she would do. Eventually I could see she was texting something.

  Violet: Certainly. Please extend the invitation to Philip.

  Hmm, I thought. That’s interesting. “Violet invited us up to the house for a hot breakfast. Would you like to go?”

  “Sure.” Then he turned to me. “How does she know I’m here?”

  “I told her.”

  He put his phone down. “We can go up there if you want. I could definitely eat something.”

  I texted her back and said we’d be there in a little while. Philip and I got out of bed to take a shower together, though he started cracking jokes when he saw the size of my shower.

  “This is pitiful.” He held the glass door open, laughing at the tiny space. “I’ve seen phone booths bigger than this.”

  “Hey, no dissing my shower.”

  He grinned. “You’ll have to come to Seattle and try mine. You’ll love it. It has multiple sprayers and lots of space.”

  I rolled my eyes. I could only imagine. His shower was probably bigger than my whole bathroom.

  He got in first and then pulled me in with him, our bodies pressed tight as he stood behind me. “Maybe this isn’t so bad after all,” he murmured, closing the door. He slid soap over my breasts. “It has its perks.”

  Somehow we got each other clean without too much damage, though I nearly gave him a black eye with my elbow when he reached down for the shampoo.

  “I’m sorry!”

  “It’s okay.” He held the washcloth up to his face. “I still have one good eye left. Plus now I get to wear an eye patch.”

  Eventually we figured out a way to coordinate ourselves so there were no more injuries. I had to admit it was fun and sexy taking a shower together. I helped him wash his hair since his hand was still sore.

  Afterward, I put on clean clothes and let my hair dry naturally so it was long and curly. Unfortunately, Philip had to wear the same jeans and T-shirt from yesterday, both horribly wrinkled from lying in a pile on the floor all night.

  As we walked up to the main house, our feet crunching on the gravel, he reached for my hand. “Damn, you’re cute.” He pulled me in close to steal a kiss. “I’m in big trouble here. You know that, don’t you?”