Guys & Dogs

by Elaine Fox

  She just had to make sure it didn’t happen again or, she felt certain, her heart could definitely wind up at risk.

  “Yes. I should go. This was…unexpected,” she said with a low chuckle.

  “Yes. Yes it was.” He moved to the bedside table and replaced the phone in its cradle. For someone who seemed so uptight, he certainly was comfortable with his own nudity, she noted. Of course, it probably helped that he could not have been sculpted finer by Michelangelo.

  When he turned back from the table, she was in front of him, her hands on his ribcage. She stood on her toes and gave him a kiss. He responded ardently, his hands pulling her in, the kiss deepening immediately into something dangerously…what had he said?…distracting.

  She pulled away, smiling. “I’ve got to go. This was nice.”

  “Nice,” he repeated, and she thought she saw an ironic glint in his eye, but it was hard to tell with only the vestiges of bathroom light to go by.

  “Very nice,” she corrected. Her hands played lightly over his skin and she felt his fingers tighten on her back, as if to draw her in to him again. “Besides,” the devil in her added, “it sounds like you’ve got a call to return.”

  His hands stilled.

  She laughed and turned out of his grasp. One more second and she would have ripped her own dress off again.

  She looked around for her purse as he pulled on his pants.

  “It’s downstairs,” he said and she glanced at him. “Your bag. It’s in the front hall. It landed on my foot as we, ah…”

  She started to smile, then remembered the argument they’d been having when passion suddenly overcame them.

  He was buttoning his shirt when their eyes met and they looked at each other a long moment with great seriousness. “This…probably shouldn’t continue,” he said finally.

  Despite herself, despite the fact that she’d had the very same thought, she colored and felt a wrenching near her solar plexus. “I know.” She nodded, still looking at his face, at the shadow of stubble on his cheek, at the sandy lashes and green eyes. What would it be like to touch that face every day, to kiss him good morning and walk hand-in-hand to bed every night? What would it be like to have him look at her with love, and not just desire?

  She swallowed. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

  The moment she said it, she felt cheap. As if she’d seduced a married man. She’d only meant to reassure him that she wasn’t a gossip, that this wouldn’t get back to his girlfriend, that she hadn’t done it because he was famous or rich or anything other than electrifyingly attractive to her. And that had more to do with his touch, really, than his looks, though it was hard to separate the two.

  She turned swiftly and headed for the door.

  “Megan,” he said.

  She stopped and looked back.

  He tipped his head almost imperceptibly and said, “Thank you,” with a slight lift at the end. A question?

  Without knowing what else to do, she darted a quick smile at him, and left.

  “They have blues in that litter,” Georgia was saying to Penelope as Megan approached them in the dog park the next morning. She was snapping Sage’s leash in her hands and glaring at Penelope.

  “Honey, can’t any litter have blues—?”

  “No, not any litter. Just ones that are composed of the right recessive genes. And there are four in this litter, Penelope. Four.” She snapped the leash some more, making Megan’s eyes blink every time she did it. “Tell me, Megan, how likely is it that a harlequin and a black will have four blues in a litter of six?”

  “Well, they’d each have to have blues in their backgrounds. I’d have to see the pedigrees,” Megan said carefully.

  Georgia was as mad as Megan had ever seen a woman. Her blue eyes stood out like ice shards beneath her heavy black lashes.

  “I know there are blues in Gretyl’s background but I’d bet everythin’ I own there are none in Danny’s,” she growled. “They used Sage’s sperm. I know it.”

  “Did you ask at the…what do they call it? A sperm bank?” Penelope gave Megan a worried do something look. “Maybe they can tell you if anyone’s, uh, checked anything out.”

  Megan returned a helpless look and unhooked Peyton’s leash, gave her a hearty scrub behind the ears, then slapped her on the rump as she ran off toward Wimbledon, Penelope’s big black lab.

  “It’s a canine semen bank,” Georgia said, “but since we’re still goin’ through the legalities about that it’s supposed to be off limits to both of us.” She turned suddenly to Megan, startling her. “Megan,” she said, “how hard is it to do a DNA test?”

  Megan’s eyes darted to Penelope’s and back to Georgia’s intense gaze. “Not hard. What are you thinking?”

  “If I could get one of those puppies I could find out for sure if Sage’s the sire.”

  “But what would you do if he is?” Penelope asked.

  “Sue for custody, of course!” Georgia flung her arms out wide. “I have legal recourse. It’s only a matter of time until we have it all in writin’. That sperm is mine!”

  Megan glanced over to see several people stop dead as this sentence rang out into the cool morning air.

  “But Georgia,” Penelope protested, moving closer and using a quieter voice, “Clifford’s never going to let you take one of those puppies. Especially if he knows, or suspects, why you’ve asked for one. I think you need to let this go. Start looking for a bitch to breed him to yourself.”

  Georgia laughed cruelly. “Oh, I’m not goin’ to ask Clifford anythin’. I’m gettin’ one of those puppies and I’m provin’ what a scandalous liar he is. He had a buddy worked at that sperm bank, that’s why we used that one, and I just bet that snake let him have a vial of Sage’s frozen semen. There’s no way that harlequin sired those blues. In fact, I bet I could get a copy of his pedigree and see how many blues were in his background.” With one last snap of the leash Georgia called to Sage and clicked the leash on him. “Don’t forget about next week. My place? Drinks?”

  “What?” Megan asked.

  “Oh, Pen will fill you in,” Georgia said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve got to go. See you later!”

  Megan and Penelope stood looking after her, silent a moment. Then Penelope turned to Megan and said, “I think she’s lost her mind.”

  Megan shrugged. “Maybe. Then again, sounds like it’s possible Clifford actually did do something underhanded.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s possible,” Penelope agreed with a cynical chuckle. “He’s not exactly a pillar of morality. I heard recently he’s been cheating on the new wife.”

  “You’re kidding. How do you hear this stuff?” If Penelope was a big purveyor of gossip, Megan really needed to know. She was dying to talk about the situation with Sutter, but not to someone who might spill it to everyone she knew.

  “People in the shop.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe the things women will tell you while trying on jewelry. And I don’t even ask!”

  “Do they—” Megan paused, not wanting to sound insulting. “Are they, uh, at all concerned about its confidentiality?”

  Penelope laughed. “I don’t know. If they speak up in the middle of a busy shop, then I have to believe they’re not too worried about who knows. It’s not as if any of them ever asked me to keep it quiet, either. They don’t seem to care.”

  Megan sighed, relieved.

  “So, how did your visit with Sutter Foley go last night?” Penelope asked, as if reading Megan’s mind. “I was going to call you last night but I played a doubles match that lasted forever.”

  Megan took a deep breath. “Well, it started out all right. I caught him in the middle of dinner and he invited me to join him.”

  “Ooh.” Penelope’s brows rose. “What was he having?”

  “Swordfish. The chef himself served it.”

  “I’ve heard about his chef. Was it fabulous?”

  Megan shifted, hesitant. “I, actually, I don�
�t know. We ended up sort of arguing.”

  “You and the chef?” Penelope’s eyes widened.

  Megan laughed. “No. Me and Sutter.”

  “Ohhhh,” she nodded, “so he did say that awful stuff. I might have known.”

  “I don’t know, exactly, but he didn’t deny it! And he was being a real jerk about me even asking about it. Like I should have had some kind of faith in him, God knows why.”

  Despite the confident words, she wondered if she should have had some faith. Something about Sutter screamed “misunderstood” to her every time they met. It was one reason she’d thought he needed the dog. He was quiet, kept to himself, but when he spoke he had an air of honesty. Indeed, something that seemed to say lying was so far beneath him it was not worth bothering with. Still…it wasn’t as if she knew him well.

  Penelope drew her head back, her brow furrowed. “Hm. That’s weird. Why would he think you should have faith in him? Unless he’s one of those men who thinks he’s a gentleman and should therefore be above reproach. No matter what awful things he does or says.”

  Megan looked around the park, noting there were only four or five other people, then waved Penelope over to a corner where there were a couple of white plastic chairs. They were covered with dried mud and teeth marks, but seemed acceptably clean in the sunshine. They sat.

  “What is it?” Pen asked, leaning forward, looking concerned. “He wasn’t mean, was he? What did he do, throw you out of the house?”

  Megan laughed again, remembering how he’d swept her up in his arms and actually carried her up the stairs to the bedroom. She’d felt like something out of an old movie, though the sex had hardly been old-fashioned.

  “Not exactly,” she smirked. “Well, first, let me tell you what happened the other day. And please, this can’t go any further than the two of us.”

  Penelope sat up straight. “Of course!” Then understanding dawned. “Oh, I see. I swear I only pass along the gossip that was broadcast to me in public to begin with. I hope you didn’t think I was betraying anyone’s confidence!”

  Penelope’s fingers fidgeted in her lap and Megan leaned over to put her hand on top of them. “Penelope, don’t be offended. When you hear what I have to tell you, you’ll understand my paranoia. I didn’t really doubt you.”

  Penelope’s brows lowered along with her voice. “What is it?”

  “Last Saturday, after you guys left the park here and the rain came down?”

  Penelope nodded.

  “Sutter Foley showed up, with that puppy he’s got. You know, the one his groundskeeper had adopted.”

  “He kept it?” Penelope asked.

  “Well, I talked him into it.” Megan shrugged. “I thought it would do them both good. Now…I don’t know. Anyway, he showed up and we got to talking and…one thing led to another and…” She hesitated. Was it a betrayal of Sutter to tell? But it was her story too, and if she needed to talk about it…

  “And…?” Penelope asked, actually leaning forward in her seat, her hands now clasped tightly together as her elbows rested on her knees.

  “Well, he kissed me.”

  Penelope gasped and sat up. Then she leaned forward again. “He kissed you? Is that what you said? Sutter Foley kissed you? In, you know, that way?”

  Megan laughed. “It wasn’t anything close to a chaste kiss, if that’s what you mean.”

  Penelope burst out a laugh, then put a hand over her face. “Oh my God.” She dropped the hand and pinned Megan with her eyes. “This is huge. Huge. Sutter Foley doesn’t do things lightly.”

  Megan began shaking her head. “Maybe not lightly, but he’s not immune to impulse. Besides, that’s not all. I still have to tell you about last night…”

  Today, Aunt Edna’s hair was neatly curled, with a small red bow on one side, and she sat with her hands in her lap in the sitting room off her bedroom. She wore red lipstick and two patches of subtle pink glowed on her cheeks.

  She beamed at Sutter as he entered.

  “Sutter! How lovely to see you. Come sit.” She indicated the wing chair across from hers. “Are those for me?”

  “Of course,” he said, handing her the lilies she so adored. Their perfumey scent was enough to suffocate him but he almost always brought a bouquet of them to her. He couldn’t resist seeing her light up like that.

  Despite the summer temperatures outside, a fire blazed in the fireplace, and he cast the aide a questioning look as he handed his aunt the flowers.

  “I know, Mr. Foley, it’s hot as Hades in here, but she insisted. She was chilly, she said.” The petite black woman shook her head but smiled. “And you know there’s just no arguing with her.”

  “Now, Lucy, don’t go telling on me,” Aunt Edna said, handing her the flowers. “Be a dear and put these in some water, would you, love?”

  “Sure thing, Miss Foley,” Lucy said, and left them alone.

  Aunt Edna turned back to Sutter and smiled warmly. “Now, tell me all about you. I haven’t seen you for at least a couple of weeks now. Are you still seeing that lovely woman from the newspapers? The one who’s moving to town for you?”

  Sutter loved it when his aunt was like this. After his mother died, when he was eleven and Lizzy thirteen, Aunt Edna had been the one they had gone to for comfort and shelter when their father had come home drunk and knocked them about. She’d understood—after all, she’d grown up with the man—but at the time there was not much she could do about it. They were all living in one of the poorest parts of London, where getting drunk and beating your wife and children was about as commonplace as hanging your washing out to dry.

  “Briana? Yes, I still see her,” he said, taking off his suit jacket and laying it on the sofa. “But she’s not moving to town for me. She got a job here that she’d been wanting.”

  “In this little town?” His aunt looked at him skeptically. “Trust me, dear, she’s coming here for you.”

  “No, no.” He waved her words away. “It’s not like that. We’re not that serious. She’s coming only for the job, she told me so herself.”

  Aunt Edna sighed. “Oh Sutter. Are you never going to get married again? I’ve been waiting years for either you or Lizzy to have children and both of you seem determined to disappoint me.”

  He sat in the wing chair across from her and loosened his tie. “Believe me, I’m not trying to thwart you. It’s simply not easy to know when you’ve found the right woman.”

  For a moment, he thought of Megan Rose, of how perfectly her body had fitted his, and how incredibly well he had slept that night they had been together. It was as if some huge burden had been lifted from him for the night and he’d not only finally slept, but relaxed in a way he hadn’t for months. Years, maybe.

  “Now what is that expression all about?” Aunt Edna said, her eyes sharp. “You can’t tell me this Briana isn’t serious if she makes you look like that, Sutter Foley.”

  He smiled ruefully. “I wasn’t thinking about Briana.”

  “Well, who was it then? I see potential there.” She gave him a cheeky grin.

  “It’s no one. Tell me about you. How has your week been?”

  Her brow darkened and she gave him a piercing look, the one that reminded him that she was, after all, related to his father. While her temper didn’t come out as abuse the way his did, she was able to singe you with her tongue like nobody he’d ever known when she was of a mind to.

  “Don’t you try to pull the wool over my eyes, young man. I may be old but I’m not stupid. Nor blind.”

  “Aunt Edna, the last thing I would ever call you is stupid. I was actually thinking about a woman who gave me a dog. A kind of a golden-retriever type dog. Can you believe it? I’ve actually got a pet.”

  “She must be quite a special woman to have talked you into that.” Aunt Edna’s eyes twinkled.

  “She’s…interesting, I must admit. But she’s not right for me.”

  “Whyever not?”

  He laughed dryly. “A bit
like Bitsy, if you must know. Not the type to put up with my lifestyle. But I think she might be a friend,” he said contemplatively, thinking that even aside from their unbelievable night of passion, what he enjoyed most about her was her utter confidence to say whatever was on her mind. Even if she ended up taking it back a moment later.

  She was impulsive and candid, and laughed as freely as a child. It was…refreshing.

  “A friend is always good,” Aunt Edna said, watching him.

  “I think so.” He smiled at her. “You would like her, actually. She’s very genuine.”

  “And what about the other woman, Briana?”

  “I suppose she’s genuine too, but they’re different.” He laughed and shook his head. “Like night and day, really. Megan is…bright and sunny. And she has these eyes…you just fall right into them if you’re not careful. She’s so open.” He took a deep breath and shook off more thoughts of the lovely vet. “Briana, on the other hand,” he said, leaning back in the chair and smiling at his aunt. “She’s dark and unfathomable. Mysterious.”

  “Women are only mysteries to men who don’t want to understand them,” his aunt said tersely.

  “That’s not really true. With Briana, she’s not asking to be understood. In fact she’s almost easier to be around because she’s so reserved and independent. I believe she likes being untouchable.”

  “Humph,” Aunt Edna snorted delicately. “Sounds dull.”

  He chuckled. “No, not really. Just self-contained.”

  “Like you,” Aunt Edna said. “Sounds to me like this other woman would be better for you. Two self-contained people make for one awfully dull marriage, if you ask me.”

  “Me? Self-contained?” Sutter put a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “How can you say that? I’m spilling my guts to you here, Aunt Edna.”

  “Oh I do hate that phrase. It’s so American. But as long as you’re at it, tell me, do you ‘fall into’ this Briana’s eyes as you do the other woman’s? What was her name—Megan?”