Sit, Stay, Love

by Debbie Burns

  “Wow,” Kelsey said, closing her hands over her mug. “That’s really cool. I had no idea.”

  Ida smiled as she finished cutting the pie into slices. She transferred the slices to chipped and faded blue-flowered serving plates that had belonged to her sister. “I always thought this colorful kitchen was Sabrina’s way of stating that she wasn’t going to tame down entirely.”

  Kurt eyed the bright-yellow countertops and light-blue cabinets with a new appreciation. He wondered what Ida thought of her sister leaving this home and its contents to the shelter. Personal things like paperwork and pictures had been cleared out, but so much remained. He also wondered what Ida thought of all the crates of dogs filling up the house. She’d been polite but quiet during the tour. But knowing the dogs were here, she’d brought him and Kelsey the pie and was extending this welcome. Since all this felt too personal to ask, he went with something simpler. “Was your sister a gardener?” Although that area of the backyard was grown over, he’d spotted the makings of what once might’ve been an impressive garden.

  Ida smiled as she pressed her fork into her slice of pie. “Yes, Sabrina loved to garden. Late summer to fall, she was always canning something. After Jeremy died six years ago, she couldn’t find the energy, but she kept an impeccable garden for decades.”

  “After I get the yard cleaned up, I’ll give you a tour of what remains. There seem to be a few pumpkins hidden in the tall grass.”

  Ida smiled. “I would very much enjoy that.”

  “Oh my gosh, this pie is incredible.” Kelsey had taken her first bite. “I have a weak spot for apple pie, and this is absolutely perfect.”

  Kurt followed suit. Kelsey was right. It was hands down the best slice of pie he’d ever had.

  “Why, thank you. We used to compete, Sabrina and I. Good-naturedly, of course. I made the best apple pie, and she, the best peach cobbler. These apples are from my yard. You may not have noticed, but you have several peach trees on the side of the house and a pear tree at the far end of the lot. The peaches will all have dropped, but there might still be pears. They make a good pear butter.”

  “It’s so awesome to hear these stories,” Kelsey said, meeting Kurt’s gaze before she refocused on Ida.

  It was a pleasure seeing how animated Kelsey had become. Maybe Ida’s stories would give her a better opinion of the house. Help her see it in the same light he’d seen when he first set eyes upon it. This thought brought Kurt back to last night’s dream, and he remembered a new snippet. He’d been standing at the stove next to Kelsey, his hand on the small of her back, smelling whatever she’d been cooking. Remembering the perfect, easy connection he’d felt between them, he was thankful he was now seated. His knees weakened from the desire of wanting to feel something that strong in real life. Clearing his throat, he forced his attention back to Ida.

  “Your sister,” Kelsey continued, oblivious to his thoughts. “She was so kind to leave her house to the shelter, but none of us knew anything about her other than that she’d adopted her cat from us. Was she a big animal lover?”

  “Yes and no,” Ida said, shifting in her chair. “She and Jeremy always had a dog or a cat to keep them company over the years, but if anyone had told me my sister would leave her beloved home to an animal shelter, I’d never have believed them. But their only child lives in England, teaching at Cambridge, believe it or not. He was married about twenty-five years ago in a little stone church in Weston-super-Mare in honor of his parents. Unlike my worldly sister, the only time I ever left the country was for that wedding.”

  Ida paused to eat a bite of pie and have a sip of coffee. “It was both strange and fitting, the way she decided on leaving this house to your shelter. My nephew is established in England, and my sons are happy in Connecticut. So, with no heirs for her home and an inoperable cancer diagnosis—yes, it was cancer that took her,” she said in reply to Kelsey’s look of sympathy, “though I don’t have the strength to talk about that today—Sabrina was motivated to find the right buyer for the house. She had a dozen real estate agents and appraisers come by, and she contacted two different historical societies. You see, the house was built by a brew master of the South City brewery.”

  Kelsey raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

  “That fact was never touted, though I don’t know why. My sister had a few lowball offers from contractors who intended to gut more than they would have kept. The idea of this happening to her beloved home set her blood to boiling. Then one afternoon I came over, and she had your shelter’s newsletter in her lap. She was pretty weak by then, but she looked at me with the brightest eyes and told me that she intended to leave the house—furniture and all—to the shelter so long as you all would agree to care for Mr. Longtail.” Ida paused and gave a small huff. “I mean no insult when I tell you the idea seemed preposterous to me at first, but when my sister set her mind to something, it was set.”

  Kelsey smiled and shook her head, her honey-blond hair tumbling over her shoulders. “I can’t tell you how awesome it is to hear this. I had no idea.”

  “Thank you, dear. I saw you on the news the other day,” Ida said. “And I knew right away you intended to bring the dogs here. At first, I was a bit worried, but I suspect this is exactly what Sabrina would’ve wanted. The busier and bigger and more vivacious life was, the more she enjoyed it.” She motioned toward the front rooms. “And from what you showed me as I came in, you certainly seem to have everything under control.” She paused to point a thin finger at Kelsey. “And just like you did yesterday afternoon, dear, she’d have given those protesters a piece of her mind. I was sitting on my porch when you came upon them. My sister would’ve liked you.”

  Kurt felt surprise wash over him. So Kelsey stood up to the protesters. Of course she had. She simply wasn’t the type to rehash it. He wished he could have seen the confrontation himself.

  “Thanks,” Kelsey said, swiping a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s such an honor to meet you, and it would’ve been an honor to meet your sister.”

  “You two would’ve gotten along well, I’m certain.” Ida folded her napkin and stood up, bracing her frail hand on the edge of the table. “When you’re more settled, if you have the time, I’d be happy to show you some of my sister’s photographs and tell you some of the stories that took place here over the years. There are many delightful ones. But how could there not be? A lot of living was done inside these walls. And, young man,” she said, turning to Kurt, “feel free to climb my apple trees any time you’d like. The best ones are always up high.”

  He and Kelsey showed her out together, but Ida refused his offer to walk her home. She pulled a flashlight from her pocket and promised she was fine. Kurt closed the door and caught Kelsey taking in the foyer and curved staircase with a look of renewed interest and admiration.

  “Nice,” he said, “to have such an interesting neighbor.”

  Kelsey shook her head and hooked a thumb in the belt loop of her jeans. “She’s incredible. And clearly her sister was too. I had absolutely no idea. I’ve been feeding Sabrina’s cat for eight months, and I had no idea about any of it.”

  Kurt shrugged. “Sometimes things happen like that. So, did that remarkable pie give you the energy for another couple hours’ work with the dogs?”

  Kelsey rolled her shoulders in a stretch. “I’m going to sleep like a log tonight, but yes, I’m good to go.”

  “Great. There are a couple dogs I’m feeling confident enough about to let you do the whole thing.”

  Kelsey gave the cuff of his T-shirt a soft tug as they headed into the first parlor. “Look at that. Dogs impressive enough to gain the trust of steel-hearted Kurt Crawford.”

  He winked as he reached for a leash. “That doesn’t only go for the dogs, you know. You’ve made it clear you allow some of that knowledgeable mind of yours to rule along with your I brake for turtles heart
.”

  Even in the semidark room, he could tell his words made her blush.

  “Thanks,” she said, “but just so you know, the whole world should brake for turtles.”

  Chapter 11

  After such packed days, when Kelsey arrived at the Sabrina Raven estate the next morning, it felt like the rehab had been in full swing for the better part of a month. As she’d anticipated, she’d been tired enough to sleep like the dead last night. Committed to not skipping a night of bringing home one of the shelter dogs, but knowing she was too exhausted to give a high-energy dog the attention it would need, she’d chosen Max, a laid-back, eight-year-old bulldog who was content to snuggle the night away.

  And despite leaving the estate so late, driving back and forth for Max, grabbing a bite to eat, and forcing herself to do a load of laundry, she’d still managed to get eight hours of sleep. As a result, she was rejuvenated and ready to face another physically and mentally demanding day.

  Though she’d only known him a few days, she wasn’t surprised to find Kurt not only awake but knee-deep in a house project while waiting for her to arrive. She glanced at her watch, reaffirming that it was in fact only minutes after seven. How long had he been at it? It seemed he needed remarkably less sleep or downtime than the average person. He just went, went, went, reminding her of a ping-pong-ball taskmaster, when he wasn’t hyperfocused on the dogs. When he was with them, he was slow and purposeful, and time fell away.

  And even though she should’ve guessed he’d be tinkering with one project or another, she was still a tad thrown off at finding him on his knees with the upper half of his body buried in the cabinets underneath the kitchen sink. This left the rest of him, from mid-chest down, on display. Her pulse quickened instinctively. The man truly didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.

  Growing up, her brothers had been so engrossed in bodybuilding that she’d almost been turned off muscles entirely. But nothing about Kurt turned her off. Not only did he have the perfect physique, but he was equal parts Cesar Millan and the Property Brothers.

  And unlike with her reflection-addicted brothers, she’d not once caught Kurt gazing at himself in a mirror. He didn’t eat like a weightlifter either. With her brothers, it had been egg whites, chicken breasts, and protein shakes. Kurt, on the other hand, ate anything. Actually, he ate a whole lot of anythings. He seemed to have a metabolism of fire that magicked food straight into muscle.

  Dropping her purse on the table, Kelsey forced out a loud, confident good morning. Rather than his typical blue jeans, Kurt was wearing a pair of khaki cargo pants and a dark-gray T-shirt that had slipped upward enough to show off the smooth olive of his lower back. Wow.

  How long had it been since she’d fantasized about someone she worked with? The answer slowed her pulse a beat or two. As if she could forget. College. Sophomore year. Lab partner and best friend, Steve. Sorry, Kels, I just didn’t feel it.

  “Morning,” Kurt said, looking at her from over his shoulder while still inside the cabinet. “Mind joining me?”

  Join him? Under the sink? “Um, I think we’ve reached the point in the morning that I admit I don’t know anything about plumbing.”

  He backed out from the cabinet and rested against the balls of his feet. His smile was easy and fabulous, and his teeth gleamed white. And there was a grease smudge running across his bicep. Kelsey hadn’t known grease smudges could be sexy.

  “You don’t have to know anything about plumbing. But your hands are smaller.”

  As much as she might like to, this wasn’t something she should opt out of. For this rehab to work smoothly, they needed the house—plumbing included—to be functional. She tugged off her hoodie, not wanting it to get dirty. When it was halfway over her head, she said a quick prayer that the wash of cool air on her belly wasn’t because her T-shirt had come up with it. She was two inches taller and fifteen pounds heavier than she’d like to be, and he was most certainly out of her league. That was fine. But the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was putting herself out there like she’d done with Steve.

  There were some lessons she didn’t need to learn twice.

  “Where to, boss?” There was no use wasting time. She needed to deflect her nervous energy.

  “Why don’t you take the left cabinet? You’ll be able to reach the pipe easier. I’ll take the right.”

  Pulling free the elastic tie she kept on her wrist, she shoved her thick hair into a knot, then sank to her knees. “Am I going to be loosening or tightening?”

  “Tightening,” he said, shifting to give her space. “See the new elbow joint? It’s PVC. Nothing in this house was PVC.”

  “I’m not going to ask if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” She felt the wetness of the cabinet base as she crawled half in. “Was it leaking?” Suddenly he was cramming into the other half and sucking the air right out of her lungs. He smelled so good, and he was so close. Their hips and legs were only inches apart.

  “It started dripping last night.” He passed her a pair of pliers and pointed with a pen-sized flashlight. “See where I’m pointing? Those are compression nuts. I can’t fit my hand into the crevice with the pliers to tighten them enough to seal it.”

  Compression nuts. Hold it together, Kels. Thank goodness for the elbow joint separating them, though it did nothing to block out his smell. It took her a few inhalations to discern what it might be. Bar soap, like the basic kind her mom had bought when she was a kid; Axe deodorant, like her brothers wore; and a touch of sweat all blended into the perfect male potpourri.

  Her skin was humming with energy. She felt like she was waking up from hibernation, and she was starving for… For what? she wondered. Him? His body? Sex? All of the above?

  She dropped the pliers on the second half turn.

  “Sorry if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, passing them back.

  “It’s righty-tighty, isn’t it? It feels like I’m tightening it.”

  “It is. A couple more turns, with a long twist on the last one, and you can move to the other nut.”

  A burst of laughter escaped, and Kelsey pressed her forehead against the new elbow joint. “I’m sorry. We’re in too cramped a space to talk about nuts without me taking it wrong.”

  “We’re in too cramped a space to not talk at all, so pick a topic.”

  “How are the dogs?” she asked, choosing something familiar and safe.

  “Nut-free, though a few of the females still have their ovaries.”

  Kelsey giggled. “I think you’re delirious because you never sleep.”

  “I got a full six hours last night. I never get more than that. If I’m delirious, it’s that intoxicating perfume you keep putting on.”

  Kelsey jerked reflexively and banged the back of her head on the bottom of the sink. “Ow. And I’m not dosing myself in perfume to rehab dogs, thank you. It’s body wash, citrus mint, and it wakes me up better than coffee.”

  “Citrus mint, huh? Any chance you’ll switch it for a bar of Ivory soap so I can work around you easier?”

  She dropped the pliers again. Did he really just say that? Thank God for all those years of learning how to be snarky with her brothers when they were dishing out their endless jokes and pranks. “I think I got it on the last turn there. And I have this. I don’t need you in here for the last one. And no to the Ivory soap. I like my body wash. It makes me happy. You can spend the next couple minutes looking for nose plugs if you’d like.”

  It was Kurt’s turn to laugh as he backed out of the cabinet and sank against the balls of his feet again. “No thanks. I’ll deal.”

  “Or I could pick you up a bottle. If you start using it, it’ll be like we belong to the same citrus-mint tribe.”

  “No thanks. Too girlie. If I used that stuff, the dogs might no longer recognize me as the alpha male.” He stood up and headed over to the toolbox, facing away
from her. This made her a little less self-conscious about her rear end sticking up exactly like his had been. She forced her focus back to the job at hand. It was no use wishing for a tiny, petite body. Besides, her height came in handy often enough, and thanks to being so active, those extra pounds were mostly stuck to her curves.

  After several turns, and sprouting a hand cramp, Kelsey managed to tighten the next nut till it no longer budged. She scooted out and left Kurt to test the faucet as she headed to the screened-in porch for Pepper. Kurt had given Kelsey the green light to handle the loyal Rottweiler whenever she wanted. This morning, Pepper could hang out in one of the runs while they started on the other dogs.

  When she got to Pepper’s crate, Kelsey found it empty. A look out into the backyard proved the Rott had already been let out into the single run at the far edge. In one side of the double run, there was a quiet and calm hundred-and-twenty-pound bullmastiff. He was a striking brindled color and so easygoing that Kelsey had decided to name him Buddy.

  With two dogs in the runs, it was time for the morning feeding routine. Kurt followed her into the main parlor where they’d been starting the lengthy process. Kelsey could hear the kitchen faucet running and figured he was testing it to be sure the leak was stopped.

  “I thought this might help move things along,” he said, pointing to labels he’d stuck to the floor in front of the wire crates. The closest dog, a Doberman who Kelsey had named Lucky, had a green circle drawn on the top left line of his label. Beside the circle were the Greek letter beta and the number one. Below that line, possible companions was written, along with a blank underline. Kelsey guessed that meant Kurt would be trying to determine who to eventually pair Lucky with in the double run. “Phase two of the op,” he’d called it yesterday.