The Pet Stylist and the Playboy

by Rebecca James

  “What happened?” I asked gently.

  “After court, Gus took me to a restaurant to celebrate. We stayed a long time, talking and laughing.” His mouth quivered. “We came back here and were both so full and sleepy, Gus lay down on the couch, and I stretched out on the floor. When I woke up, he was...” He trailed off, looking at the now-empty couch.

  I tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m sorry.”

  Isaac turned eyes swimming with tears to me. “What do I do now?”

  My heart cracked. I pulled him to me again, hugging him hard. “You take it one day at a time, baby. That’s all you can do. Do what needs to be done.”

  The sound of a throat clearing brought my gaze to Felicity, who was crouching near the door petting the dogs. I’d completely forgotten about her.

  “Maybe I could make some coffee or something?” she suggested.

  Isaac moved away from me, and, cold and lonely without his warmth, I wanted more than anything to pull him back into my arms. Instead, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my slacks.

  “Let’s take Angel and Butch down to my place, and you can make it there.” Isaac looked around as though uncertain what else he should do.

  “Sure,” I said. Felicity hadn’t taken the leashes off the dogs, so I reached for one of them.

  I had to remind Isaac to put on his coat before we headed out the door. “It’s cold as fuck out there.”

  Isaac slipped his arms into his jacket and tugged at the zipper. Out on the porch, I watched him lock the door before we turned to Blaze where he stood smoking.

  “We’re heading down to Isaac’s,” I said. Blaze nodded and walked along with us.

  A light shone in the living room of Isaac’s house.

  “Anyone there?” I asked Isaac. I had my arm around his shoulder because now that I’d started, I couldn’t stop touching him. I was just so happy he was letting me.

  “Deirdre and Caleb were, but they’ve probably gone by now. They would’ve come up if they’d seen the ambulance.” Isaac fumbled with the lock until Blaze tossed away his cigarette and took the keys from him.

  Inside, warm air enveloped us. The dogs barked and whined from their kennels. I unhooked Gus’s dogs and they sniffed around the floor.

  “Where’s the kitchen?” Felicity asked. “I’ll make that coffee.”

  “This way.” Blaze led her down the hall, and I turned to Isaac, who was doing his best to get his zipper down but not having any luck.

  I gently nudged away his hands and did it for him, then eased the jacket off his shoulders and hung it on the coat rack.

  “Come on. Sit down.” I led him into the living room, not liking the glazed way he stared into space.

  “Maybe you need something stronger than coffee,” I said. “Got any brandy? Isaac?”

  Isaac snapped his eyes to me, then shook his head. “No. I’m fine. C-coffee will be good.”

  “You’re in shock.” I took the afghan off the back of the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders, then tugged him so he leaned against me. I was glad he was accepting my comfort; I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t.

  Blaze carried in a tray with three mugs, Felicity following.

  “I’m going to head back,” she told me, wrapping her scarf around her neck and tucking it into her cashmere coat. “They’ll be wondering about us. I’ll tell your parents a friend had an emergency.

  “Thanks, Felicity,” I said, locking eyes with her and trying to convey my appreciation. “We’ll talk soon.” I knew I should walk her out, but I couldn’t leave Isaac. Felicity nodded and left.

  “Seems like a nice girl,” Blaze said.

  I didn’t reply. Isaac sat holding his mug in his lap, still staring off into space. Wrapping my hand around his, I nudged the mug toward his lips.

  He took a sip and batted dark, wet lashes, slowly easing out of his fog while Blaze and I talked quietly.

  When it got really late, I told Blaze to go on home. I would stay with Isaac. Blaze gave me a look like he hoped I knew what I was doing, hugged Isaac, and left.

  I did know what I was doing, for the first time in a long while.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Swish

  I barely registered Dante removing my clothes and tugging me into the shower. The hot water felt amazing cascading down my body, as did Dante’s hands as he soaped me up.

  Dante was naked and so close, but there was nothing sexual about the way he was touching me. He was taking care of me, and I appreciated that because I was lost. I kept remembering how Gus had looked lying on his couch, all life drained from his body, and when I did, new tears would fall from my eyes. I had a headache from crying so much, but I couldn’t stop.

  Dante pulled me close, my back to his front, and held me tightly. How had he known I was spiraling apart?

  When the water turned cold, Dante switched it off and helped me out of the shower. I felt depleted, like I’d run a marathon or climbed a mountain. I let him towel me off and get me into a pair of pajama pants.

  Butch and Angel had curled up with Banjo on his big dog bed in the corner of my bedroom and seeing them brought another wave of sadness crashing down on me. Dante wiped away my tears and helped me under the covers. I heard him rustling about, pulling on some clothes.

  “Don’t leave,” I said, unable to stand the thought of being alone. Hadn’t he told Blaze he would stay with me?

  “I’m not.” Dante returned to the bed and climbed in beside me. He’d put on a pair of my sweat pants, but his chest was bare.

  “I’m sorry I told you to never come back,” I said, throat closing with more tears. “I didn’t mean it. I was only trying to protect myself.”

  Dante had left the bathroom light on in the hall, and it shined a narrow strip onto the foot of the bed.

  “I deserved that, Isaac. I came as soon as Blaze called me. Nothing could have kept me away.”

  “Just...stay with me tonight. I’ll be all right tomorrow.”

  Dante kissed my forehead and spoke against my skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I closed my eyes, wishing that was the truth. That Dante would stay with me forever. I hadn’t been so out of it earlier that I hadn’t noticed his fiancée had been with him. She’d seemed nice, helping with the dogs and everything, but I couldn’t help but hate her because she had Dante and I didn’t.

  With Dante’s arms wrapped securely around me, I began to relax, and before I knew it, sleep took me.

  ***

  I awoke slowly. Sitting up, I looked around the room with blurry eyes. When I caught sight of the time, I launched myself out of bed and across the room, only to sag against the door frame when memories of the night before seeped into my mind.

  Gus was dead. Gone. Forever. I’d had him as my dad for only a few hours.

  My chest tightened, and I pressed my hand to it, standing by the door for several minutes as grief crashed over me once again. The sound of dogs’ nails clicking on hardwood floor followed by the rattling of pots in the kitchen drew me down the stairs. Dante had stayed with me the night before, and it sounded like he was still there.

  A rush of dogs met me at the bottom of the stairs, leaping and whining, tails wagging a mile a minute. Besides Banjo and Gus’ two, I had three others at the shelter. I kneeled and petted them, allowing them to lick my face all they wanted. I needed the affection.

  Dante walked down the hall.

  “You up? I was hoping you would sleep later.”

  “I slept pretty late as it is. I almost had a heart attack when I saw the time. Thought you’d left.”

  Dante looked a little hurt. “I said I’d stay.”

  “The night, yeah.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  I couldn’t hold his gaze. Looking down at the dogs, I shrugged.

  Dante padded over to me on bare feet. He’d pulled on one of my T-shirts with the sweat pants. He was taller and broader than I was, and the pants ended above
the ankles while the shirt clung to him.

  “I took all the dogs out to the enclosure for a while, so they wouldn’t wake you up.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  “You okay?”

  I stood from the step I’d been sitting on. “I will be. It was just such a shock, you know? Thanks for helping me.”

  Dante touched my arm before turning back for the kitchen, calling over his shoulder that he’d made coffee and was about to scramble some eggs. I slowly followed him.

  His phone lit up on the counter as I passed it.

  “You’ve got a text,” I said.

  “I probably have about a hundred of them. I turned off the sound after the first six or so.”

  “Who’s texting you? Felicity?” I could barely get her name past my lips.

  “She did once to see how you were and to tell me my folks were pissed at me, but she’d smoothed it over.”

  Annoyed that Dante’s parents were trying to micromanage his every move, I snapped, “Pissed about what?”

  Dante glanced at me as he pushed the eggs around in the pan.

  “About leaving my engagement party last night.”

  I sucked in a breath. Fuck. Last night was Dante’s engagement party. And he’d left it to be with me?

  “Don’t worry, they’ll get over it.”

  “You and Felicity left your party to come over here last night?”

  “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “It was your engagement party! No wonder your folks are mad.”

  Dante plated the eggs just as two pieces of toast popped up. “Isaac, it’s fine. Really. It’s not like we were enjoying ourselves or anything.”

  I stared at him as he brought the plates the table. Shaking my head, I poured us both some coffee, putting a little milk in Dante’s the way he liked it.

  “I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this,” Dante said, and my heart stuttered. Was he already regretting staying the night?

  “I don’t fucking want to get married.”

  I frowned. “That’s nothing new. You wanted to make your parents happy.”

  Dante watched me, blue eyes murky, as I picked up my fork and started eating. Bites of food landed in my stomach like rocks.

  “It’s actually not so bad working for my dad. I like the financial side of it. And I really thought I could do this—enter into a marriage without love or physical interest—”

  I swallowed and took a sip of coffee before speaking, trying to hide my shock.

  “You aren’t attracted to her?”

  Dante shook his head.

  “Why? She’s pretty.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. The attraction’s just not there.”

  “I’ve never known you to be picky about who you slept with.” It was a low blow, but I was still angry with him.

  When I’d seen Gus, dead and cold on the couch, it had been Dante I’d wanted, but I’d forced myself to call Blaze instead. When Dante had shown up, it was as though my blood had started circulating again. He’d been so sweet to me, holding me, telling me everything would be okay, then later sleeping next to me, his presence holding me together.

  “Things are different now,” Dante said, and when he didn’t continue, I looked up from my plate and met his gaze.

  “How?”

  Dante’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, and his eyes shone with an indecipherable emotion.

  “I just don’t feel the same as I used to. I don’t want to sleep around. I don’t want to—” he stopped, and I tilted my head, waiting.

  “I don’t want to be with anyone that way except you.”

  My heart picked up, but then anger pushed its way in.

  “Fuck you, Dante.” I pushed away from the table and stood. “Just fuck you.” I headed for the living room.

  “Wait. Isaac!” He followed me, and I swung around, ready to fight.

  “You don’t get to say something like that to me!” I yelled. “God, you’re such a fucking asshole. You’re about to get married, but you’re still trying to get back into my pants.”

  “I’m not getting married,” he said.

  My eyes jerked back to his face.

  “What do you mean? You just said your engagement party was last night. Felicity was here with you!”

  “We’d been talking about it when I got the call from Blaze. Felicity isn’t in love with me, and I’m sure as hell not in love with her. We’ve both realized this isn’t going to work. I thought that because my parents’ marriage had been arranged, it would work out as well with me. But it’s not. All I know is I can’t marry someone I feel absolutely nothing for.”

  I struggled to absorb what I was hearing. “So, where does that leave you?”

  Dante studied my face. “Remember what I said to you last night about taking things one day at a time?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m going to take my own advice. Today I’m going to concentrate on helping you with arrangements for Gus. That okay?”

  I gave him a small nod. “I’d really appreciate that.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Dante

  We found Gus’s strong box. Inside was the number for his lawyer, among other things. The man let us know Gus had wanted to be cremated and that he hadn’t wanted a funeral. Everything was paid for, which made Isaac fret that the old man had known he was dying.

  “All eighty-something-year-olds know they’re dying,” I told him on our way back from the funeral home. “Until you came into his life, Gus was alone. He had to be prepared.”

  My words seemed to settle Isaac’s worry. The lawyer had informed him they needed to meet, and I was pleased when Isaac asked me if I thought I could get away to go with him. I told him I’d make sure of it. The only other thing I had to do was meet with Felicity and discuss how we were going to drop the bomb on my parents and her uncle. For some reason, I dreaded this less than I had the night before.

  The moment Blaze had called me and told me something was up with Isaac, it had been like the outer layer of my life had peeled away, leaving only the core—the most important. And that was Isaac. My feelings for him were stronger than anything I’d ever known, and although I wasn’t sure what to do with them, I was sure I couldn’t let him slip out of my life again.

  Felicity’s words at the engagement party had been like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. We would back out. That morning when she’d texted me, she’d told me that, after seeing me with Isaac, she wasn’t at all surprised I wasn’t interested in marrying her. I hadn’t been sure what to say to that, so I’d only texted back that we’d talk soon. After that, I gave it some thought and decided I’d be the one to take the fall. After all, the whole thing was my fault. If I’d been warmer and more attentive, Felicity wouldn’t want out.

  I stayed with Isaac all afternoon, distracting him as best I could and helping him with the animals. I prepared us a meal late in the day and forced Isaac to eat some of it. At dark, I left him with Caleb and took an Uber to my parents’ house to pick up the Mas. I drove it to the dealership, intent on telling my father that I wasn’t going to marry Felicity or anyone else until I was ready.

  It was after hours, but my father would still be there. He always stayed until late, holing up in his office to go over the figures for the day.

  I parked in the back, surprised to see Marta’s car still there. He must have asked her to help him with something.

  I unlocked the door and walked through the back entrance of the dealership, the words I was going to use to explain myself constantly rearranging themselves in my mind. I pushed open the door to his office and stood thunder struck, in complete disbelief of what I was seeing.

  The two people in the room hadn’t even noticed my entrance, they were so occupied. My father’s expensive suit pants and Christian Dior silk briefs sagged around his ankles, and Marta’s pencil skirt was pulled up around her waist, the heels of her shoes planted on the edge of the desk, legs spre
ad wide as my father thrust into her. Her blouse and bra hung precariously from the open drawer of the filing cabinet, and Marta’s tits bounced as she clung to the desk, arms over her head.

  “Loooogan! God, your cock, give it to me!”

  For a moment, my mind refused to process the scene before me, but I snapped out of it and barked out, “Dad! What the fuck?”

  The tone of my voice halted his thrusts, and he jerked away from Marta, giving me a view of the both of them I could have done without.

  Marta scrambled off the desk and grabbed her garments, running out the door with her skirt still hiked above her waist. I heard the back door open and slam shut.

  My father tucked himself in and zipped up.

  “Ever heard of knocking, Dante?” he asked coldly.

  “What—my God, what were you doing? What about your wife?”

  My father glanced at me. “What about her? Is she here with you?”

  I blinked. “No. Dad, you were fucking Marta! You’re cheating on your wife!”

  My father chuckled. “Your mother is well aware of what I get up to with Marta, Dante. Just as I am well aware that she routinely fucks the landscaper.”

  I froze, stunned. “What? Since when?” My mind reeled. My God, the landscaper was younger than I was!

  “Since she broke things off with her golf instructor. We’ve always had an open relationship. I’m sure you and Felicity will have one, too. You should discuss it.”

  I firmed my jaw. “We have discussed it, and I told her I wanted a monogamous relationship like my parents’!”

  My father’s eyes danced with amusement as he perched on the edge of the desk he’d just been fucking his receptionist on. I could see the outline of his erection in his pants, and it was very, very disturbing.

  “Come now. Don’t think I don’t know about all your lovers.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t married, and I never cheated.”

  “Son, you’re making too much of this.”

  “I thought you and Gayle had a good relationship.” I felt like a seven-year-old who had just been told his parents were getting a divorce, which was ridiculous considering our less-than-perfect family dynamic. But fuck—my parents’ marriage had been the one constant in my life.