by Jo Leigh
“I’d love to.” April pulled out a few business cards and wrote down Chrissy’s number. She’d have talked longer, but Alec was waiting to show her the next stop on their tour.
The doggy spa was far more glamorous than she could have imagined. Each station had professional lighting and big purple tubs fitted with electric lifts. There were at least eight kinds of shampoo at each station, and she had no idea what half the gadgets lining the tubs were for. Even the drying stations looked like something out of the Jetsons.
There were separate clipping and styling stations, where two men and an older woman were giving some pampered pooches the glam treatment. But the washing area was where Alec hovered, his anxious expression betraying his nerves.
All four washers were wearing heavy-duty aprons that matched the purple tubs, and they all looked like they were enjoying themselves. Two of the stations were empty.
“That’s my tub,” Alec said, pointing to the one closest to them. “The other one is Lena’s. We’re booked solid today. I know you’re not really a temp agency, but I could really use an assistant if you have a person at the ready. They don’t need to be experienced. It’s just for the washing and drying, and I’ll show them what to do.”
“Well, I’ve only been in town a short time, so we’re not quite up and running yet. But maybe I can help? I’m free for the rest of the day, and I’ve washed a lot of animals in my time.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do—”
“You know what? Working here would add credibility to my recruitment efforts. I’d appreciate the chance, if you’ll have me,” she said.
“You sure? It can get a little messy.”
The truth was she could really use the money. “I promise,” she said. “There’s nothing I’d rather do today than wash some dogs.”
“That’s wonderful.” Alec was clearly relieved. “I’ll explain all there is to do when we get you set up in the break room. Then we’ll both go to work and get these dogs looking gorgeous.”
Once she was outfitted in her apron and her rubber gloves, she was introduced to her first client—an adorable brindle boxer named Cupcake.
Bathing Cupcake was a piece of...well, cake, and before she knew it she’d done the same with four other dogs: two terriers, a basset hound and a Dalmatian.
Then came Daisy.
“You sure you can handle her?” Alec asked.
“We had a golden retriever when I was a kid,” she said. “No problem.”
“What would we have done without you today?” Alec said, shaking his head. He helped Daisy into the big tub and scratched the old girl under the chin for a bit. “She’s been coming here a long time. She gets the works.”
April pet Daisy for a few minutes, letting them get used to each other, then turned on the water. She was convinced that she’d be able to find plenty of students eager to work at the shop, and that thought lifted her spirits quite a bit.
Daisy was as calm as could be as April combed her long coat, grateful that one of the pros would take over when it came time to clip her nails. The dog seemed to enjoy the heck out of getting soaped up from the neck down, and didn’t even mind the cotton balls in her ears.
Although she wished Lena a smooth recovery, part of her hoped the woman would be out for a decent stretch, as Alec had already mentioned that April was welcome to step in anytime.
As April was shampooing Daisy’s belly, a sharp puppy cry came from behind her. April turned, and that was all it took. One second she was in control, the next, she was soaked from head to toe in dirty dog suds, as Daisy shook all the shampoo off her body.
The laughter didn’t help. Peals of it. From the four other groomers and, worst of all, from Alec.
She turned off the tap, but before she had a chance to grab a towel, Alec put one in her hand. “I’m sorry, April,” he said. “For what it’s worth, it’s happened to all of us at one time or another.”
“No problem,” she said, avoiding opening her mouth too wide in case something unpleasant slipped between her lips. Somehow, she even managed a smile. She was in no position to be picky, so she’d better get used to being slimed.
8
IT WAS FIVE THIRTY when April opened the door to Luca’s apartment. It still felt awkward, as if she should knock first, but he’d told her it wasn’t necessary. All she wanted to do was race upstairs, get cleaned up and forget about the day she’d just suffered through.
“Whoa,” Luca said as she walked into the apartment. He was standing behind his recliner, bottle of water in hand. “You okay?”
She was already several steps up, heading for her room. “Of course I am,” she said, not looking back. She took a couple more steps then reversed. “Actually, no. I’m not okay. First, I saw a horrendous apartment that needs to be condemned by the health department.
“And just when I thought my luck had turned because I scored a temp job at a doggy day care, a sweet, old golden retriever slimed me when I was halfway through her bath. Which would have been okay if I hadn’t had an interview for a cocktail service job immediately after.”
Luca cleared his throat then busied himself turning channels on the muted TV. “Did you get it?”
She held up a dry-cleaner bag. “Got my uniform and everything. They were dubious, but I swore I didn’t normally look, literally, like something the dog dragged in.” That was when she noticed the new addition to the kitchen. “Microwave—” she said, pointing.
Luca nodded. “I just picked it up.”
It looked so much better than the one upstairs she didn’t blame him for ignoring her offer to use it. “I’m sure your refrigerator feels a lot less lonely now.”
She came down the remainder of stairs and allowed herself to take in the sight of Luca in his plaid shirt and worn jeans. The tool belt riding low on his hips made her think of what he’d look like without the belt. Or the jeans. “May I take a look? At the microwave?”
“Sure,” he said, giving her a quick glance then turning away. “Not that it’s any of my business, but do you think there might be a full-time job for you at the doggy day care?”
“I’m not looking for full-time work. I’m going to need time to get my business started.”
“Right,” he said, turning toward her. “I wasn’t thinking.”
It hurt her feelings that he’d even asked the question. On the other hand, he didn’t really know her, so she couldn’t expect him to believe she was serious. “Anyway, I should earn some decent money serving cocktails tonight. I’ve done it before, back in St. Louis.” She shrugged. “It’s a private party. I’ll be handing out samples of a new brand of vodka cooler. It pays a lot better than most interim work. Nice microwave, by the way.”
She turned and headed for the stairs.
“Wait a minute,” Luca said. “A private party?”
“That’s right.” She noticed his frown. But more than that, she noticed how his gaze seemed to be darkening. She cleared her throat before she continued. “It’s at a reputable place. I checked.”
“Where is it?”
April put a hand on her hip. His concern was kind of cute—sweet, actually—but for God’s sake she wasn’t a complete flake. “Despite what you’re thinking, I really am capable of taking care of myself.”
He looked at the TV screen. “It hadn’t crossed my mind that you weren’t.”
“Although after the whole Wes thing I can understand why you might be skeptical.” Annoyed with herself, she sighed. Instead of being cranky she ought to be grateful that he cared. “The company I’m working for tonight handles these promotional events all over the country and I happen to personally know the woman in charge of this region. She hires models for different kinds of events every day. It’ll be safe, and the pay is totally worth it.”
“Good,” he s
aid. “Before you disappear, how about giving me a hand hanging up a curtain?”
She closed her eyes, embarrassed that once again, she’d neglected her deal with Luca. He wasn’t worried about her; he wanted her to hold up her end of their bargain as she’d promised. “Of course. Give me two minutes.”
She quickly changed into some dry clothes and pulled her wet hair into a messy bun. Then she followed Luca into his makeshift bedroom and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw how much tinier it looked with the bed in it.
“What?” he asked.
“This is terrible. You shouldn’t have to sleep in this little bitty space.”
“Oh, no. We’re not going to have that conversation again. All we’re doing right now is taking this tarp and tacking it up over the window. I need you to stand on this side of the bed and hold one end while I nail my end to the stud.”
After slipping her sneakers off, she climbed on top of the bed and took her end of the tarp. It was a pretty crappy curtain, but it would do the trick. Instead of letting guilt swallow her whole again, she focused on holding her arms steady, and watched as Luca hammered in the penny nails.
God, he looked good wielding a hammer. She’d thought a lot about him during the day, about how his muscles rippled when he moved, and how she had no business thinking about him at all.
Then he got up on the bed next to her. Close enough that she could actually see the sweat beading on his five-o’clock shadow. A lock of errant hair kept falling over his brow, and her fingers itched to brush it back.
After he’d finished with the middle section, he moved even closer to her. She closed her eyes, inhaling his clean, masculine scent, different from this morning, but just as enticing.
“Uh, April?”
“Yes?” she said, her voice just a little breathless.
“It’s drooping.”
She quickly lifted her end of the tarp just as he reached over to do the job himself. He’d bent just enough to bring his face right next to hers, and when she felt his breath, she turned and there were his eyes, staring. His lips so close they were almost kissing.
It was impossible not to lean in that tiny inch more. But when her lips touched his, she gasped, he jerked and she almost fell off the bed.
She let go of the tarp, jumping down, somehow not killing herself in the process. “I’ll let you finish up,” she said, her face flaming.
“Yes. Right. I’ll, uh—”
She made it out of the room in two seconds flat, only realizing she’d left her sneakers next to his bed when she was halfway up the stairs.
* * *
LUCA PULLED OUT his keys, shaking his head as he unlocked the garage he’d rented for the past four years. More than just a place to stash his Harley, it was his workshop, the one he never talked about.
The garage was his Sanctum Sanctorum, where he came to clear his mind, to get lost in creating the furniture that hit the sweet spot deep inside him. It was where he came when his parents were driving him crazy, which happened a lot during the long winter months. Hell, pretty much all the time.
After flipping on the lights, he rested his hand on his bike, the smooth black paint as shiny as the day he’d bought it.
The irony of his visit tonight wasn’t lost on him. After all the trouble he’d gone through to get his own place so he could finally do whatever the hell he wanted, whenever he wanted, and what had happened?
April.
April had happened to him. Was still happening to him. Would continue to happen for as long as he let her stay, or until she found herself a place to live. He really hoped she’d find an apartment soon because asking her to leave was going to be a bitch.
In the meantime, she had to go and smell like coconut and flowers. It was difficult enough, her wearing skinny jeans. The way they cupped her ass, hugged her hips. Damn. But now that she would be wearing those skimpy outfits to her “events”? As if he needed to know exactly what her legs looked like. In heels.
“Shit.”
It was more than he could handle. He was bound to do something that would freak them both out. It had almost happened last night...which was precisely why he’d decided to come straight to the garage after work.
All day he’d been flashing back to last night, in his bedroom, nose to nose with April, breathing in her breath, watching her pupils dilate as they moved into the kiss that wasn’t.
What the hell was wrong with him? It hadn’t only been a bad idea, it had also become an idea that wouldn’t stop looping through his brain. Worse than an earworm, worse than remembering an embarrassing mistake that clung like a burr. Every time he thought about those lips so close, his brain went directly to his list of biggest regrets.
He walked back to his work space. His latest project was a patio table that also served as a cooler. Eight square feet of cedar, fitted with a long plastic planter frame he’d retrofit so it could hold ice. He still had to finish the legs, which would be the perfect job to distract him.
With any luck at all, he’d get home after April was sound asleep upstairs.
As he prepped the first leg for the router, his cell phone rang. Turning off the equipment, he checked the number. It was one of his construction supervisors. “Hey, Dave. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure. No problems. I know it’s late, but I wanted to catch you before I leave town. You got a minute?”
“Of course.”
“You know the Mostel job? Mrs. Mostel?”
“The remodel in SoHo.”
“Yeah. She saw that entertainment unit you made for the Rothenbergs, and she flipped. She said, and I quote, ‘The work is masterful. The man’s a genius.’”
“What can I say? The woman’s got taste.”
Dave laughed. “Hey, I think she has a keen eye, and I’m not just saying that. Anyway, she was hoping to meet with you, get you to do some custom pieces for her new place. She mentioned a dresser, a table and a hutch to go with one of her antique cabinets. For what it’s worth, the lady’s loaded.”
Shit. Money might not be a problem for her, but time was a problem for him. He put in a lot of hours for the business, and as much as he loved working with his hands, if he took on more private clients, he’d have little time to enjoy his new place. And all the sex he was hoping to have in the near future.
The thought alone had him picturing April. Of course. Because he clearly wasn’t at his breaking point yet.
He held back a sigh and closed his eyes. Wouldn’t hurt to talk to the woman. “Why don’t you give me her number, and I’ll give her a call later.”
“Great. I actually gave her one of your cards, but I’ll tell her you’ll call as soon as you can.”
“Thanks, Dave.”
“Hey, if I could afford you, I’d hire you, too.”
Luca laughed as he disconnected then shook his head. Flattery wasn’t going to take care of his problems. It seemed that his best laid plans were absolutely no use in getting him laid at all.
When he finally did go home, April was there in her tiny shorts and too-small T-shirt, which might as well have been soaking wet for how it clung to her body.
He simply couldn’t win.
9
LATE THE NEXT AFTERNOON, after he’d showered and changed, Luca headed out the door, glad he had beat April home. He wasn’t taking any chances that she’d worked at the dog groomer’s today. It was hard enough living in such close quarters without her clothes leaving next to nothing to the imagination.
The elevator door opened and he knew who it was right away. Jesus. She was driving him crazy, coming home looking like that. “Hey,” he said. “I see you’re still working at the dog spa.”
April paused and shifted her tote bag on her shoulder, which didn’t help matters. “Yep. For now.”
She started walking toward him and he made sure to meet her eyes, but she looked away.
“I also looked at two apartments today, and they both had roaches everywhere and I’m pretty sure one was a drug den. But I’ve got more lined up, and also I’ve got three more event bookings, so I promise, I haven’t been slacking. And Alec could call me again for tomorrow. It depends.”
“Alec? The dog spa owner?”
“Yes. But I don’t want to hold you up...” She raked a gaze over his leather jacket to the helmet tucked under his arm. “You have a motorcycle?”
“A Harley. Going for a ride tonight, then I have to work on a project. What about you?”
“I’ve got an event later.”
Excellent. He’d come back and work on the living room after she left. He wasn’t making enough progress before his big date with Jillian. “Well, good luck,” he said and started to pass April, but stopped. “Look, in the spirit of camaraderie, I should tell you something.”
“Oh, God. Did you need me to help you and I wasn’t here? I’m so sorry. I’m here now until nine. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Luca closed his eyes, but that just made things worse. Images popped into his head. Bad, bad images. “Okay, here’s the thing. Every time you come back from the groomer’s, it looks like you’ve been in a wet T-shirt contest,” he said, waiting for it to register. “And it’s gotten to the point where I want to ask you if you won.”
April’s eyes got wide. Then she looked down. Straight down. At her very prominent nipples. Her breasts weren’t that big, but those nipples... Suffice it to say they were highly distracting.
“Oh, God.” She spun around and dashed past him into the apartment, but not before he caught the brilliant blush that painted her cheeks.
He wasn’t in great shape himself. When he looked south, his erection was pretty damn obvious. Terrific. His only hope was that she’d been too busy blushing to notice.