“You must have some happy memory, something from Christmas?” He stepped closer.
Her eyes went wide with panic. “This has been nice, but I’m starting to go on sensory overload from all the merriment. I’m going to give some of those pumpkin peanut butter treats to the dogs here, too.”
He skimmed a hand along her shoulder, not wanting to push too hard, too fast, but also not ready for this to end. And yeah, he was worried about those shadows that had just chased through her eyes. This was Christmas. “Want some company?”
She hesitated, searching his eyes and toying with that wreath pin. “I don’t want to start gossip.”
“Then I’ll give you a five-minute head start.”
A slow smile spread over her face. “Okay, then. Sounds like a plan.”
* * *
ONCE SHE SNATCHED the container of dog treats from the counter, Mary Hannah grabbed her red wool coat and made her escape out the mudroom door. Checkered curtains fluttered at the gust of frigid air before she pushed the door closed.
Was she freaking crazy? She did not need to be meeting AJ out here. Alone.
Breathing in the crisp breeze, she clutched the container of cookies under her arm and held the rail on her way down the steps. She’d worked hard to rebuild her life, and for the past few years she’d managed holidays better each time. Except for today. And she couldn’t ignore the fact that AJ Parker caused that turmoil.
Tupperware container under her arm, she slipped her cold hands into her pockets. She picked her way gingerly over the ice along the covered walkway leading to the barn. Distant squeals carried from the distance of a half-dozen volunteers sledding. She opened the side door that housed the Second Chance Ranch Rescue. Rows of kennel runs housed a dozen dogs, two horses, a donkey and a pig, thanks to the latest round of renovations. Even more animals lived in foster homes.
This place gave her a comfort that had been far too elusive since her life had fallen apart. Sure, she was Sierra’s friend, but what if Lacey married Wyatt? If things went south with AJ, that could wreck things for her here.
Even his brief kiss on her forehead had left her tossing and turning all night. That simple brush of his mouth against her skin brought their one-night stand roaring back to life in her memories until she felt the urge to find relief in a deep, foggy medicated sleep. A dangerous temptation. She’d even called her Narcotics Anonymous sponsor this morning and would be attending a meeting next week. She just had to make it through the holidays and then she could lose herself in her work, with patients and here with the animals.
She placed the homemade dog treats on a shelf, opened the last stall and tucked inside to scoop up a scruffy white Cairn-Terrier mix named Barkley. She’d chosen him to partner with a patient she counseled at the VA hospital, the veteran who’d lost a leg and an arm in Afghanistan.
Mary Hannah cuddled the scruffy little scrap, and he licked her chin in appreciation just before his ears perked up. He barked a warning. She turned fast to find AJ in the doorway watching her.
“How long have you been there?” she asked self-consciously.
“Only for a few seconds,” he answered with a wry smile. “I thought we could let some of the dogs have an extra run in the play yard.”
“Oh, um, thanks. I would appreciate the help. It takes a while since we divide them into groups according to how they play together.”
“Good thing I brought us something to drink. It’s out on the picnic table.”
“I’m not much of a beer drinker,” she said skeptically.
“I remember. You ordered a Diet Coke with rum the night we met.”
That he remembered the small detail from months ago made her breath catch in her throat. She thrust the Cairn Terrier into his arms. “Take Barkley and I’ll open the gates for the other dogs in his playgroup. Meet you outside.”
She couldn’t decide if she was a coward or just strategically wise, but she ducked into the supply closet to get tennis balls for fetch—and to gather her composure. Three ragged breaths later, she retrieved the dog treats from the shelf, a bag of tennis balls dangling from her wrist. She opened gates along her way outside, her stomach buzzing with nerves. Five bundles of energy raced ahead of her to the snowy play yard. A beagle skidded along the packed ice, tumbling butt over head, then righting himself again.
AJ’s laugh carried on the wind, deep, masculine and tempting. Drawn to the sound, she walked closer, couldn’t seem to stop her feet if she tried. She pitched a tennis ball past the sprawling oak tree, and the rest of the pack raced past. The bird feeders that stayed full year round swayed, showering seeds.
“Here, catch.” She tossed a couple of tennis balls to AJ.
“These treats look good enough for people.” He caught each of the tennis balls cleanly in midair.
“They are definitely for the dogs.” She saw a thermos and two cups on the picnic table. “I assume that’s the drink you brought for us?”
“Hot cider instead of Diet Coke. Be warned, though, it is still spiked with rum.” He winked, his blue eyes glinting.
“Cider and rum?” A smile warmed her insides as much as any alcohol. “Nice choice, Detective. Since we both can walk home, that works well.”
She swiped her coat sleeve across the picnic table to clear snow off the space beside the thermos and set down the container of treats. In the summertime, baby pools of water were out for the dogs to splash around, but for now it was just ice and snow. Not that the dogs seemed to mind as long as they were free to race frenetic circles around the fenced-in area. The distant warble and cluck of a turkey filled the night as if the bird shouted victory at surviving the season alive.
Her scarf flapped loose from her coat collar. She missed her paisley parka, but between the unwashed dogs, a couple of rips, the sludge and the meth, her clothes had been beyond salvaging. She had to wear her red wool coat for now until she could hit the after-Christmas sales—
What a ridiculous time to worry about clothes or think about the fact she’d chosen to wear contacts today rather than her glasses.
She kicked a ball free from the snow, distracting the dogs.
AJ set down the Cairn Terrier to join in the chase. “Tell me more about this new fella?”
“That’s Barkley. He’s slated to be in the Mutt Makeover competition. I’m pairing him with a wounded army veteran from Fort Campbell.” She opened the thermos and poured the steaming cider into both mugs. “If we have a shelter dog win, that prize money would mean everything to the Second Chance Ranch.”
“Barkley should win on the cuteness factor alone.” He pitched a ball and the dogs tore off after it.
“If only it could be that simple.” She sipped the warm cider, an after-kick of alcohol tingling through her. The chilly wind tugged at her scarf, and she anchored it with her hand. “You must get very annoyed at all the matchmaking.”
He lifted his mug to his mouth. “We could just have sex again—for the sake of peace.”
Her hand fell to her side. “Or we could just keep talking. They’ll think their plan is working and we won’t have to listen to the racket indoors.”
His smile was slow in spreading across his face in time with the slow burn building inside her. “Fair enough, then.” He toasted with his cider. “Merry Christmas, to you and your Second Chance Ranch family.”
She drank along with him to hide how the word family stung this time of year. The wind rolled across the fields and tugged at her scarf again, pulling the tail free from her coat.
“Did I say something wrong?” He set aside his mug and picked up the edge of her scarf and tugged lightly.
“No, of course not.” Not anything she could share with him. Like the big-city narcotics detective would be sympathetic to her drug addiction that had wreaked havoc on those around her. “I was just thinking that I’m not Lacey’s family, not really. I try no
t to impose on her. Sure, I’m friends with her daughter, but it’s not like we’re blood related, so I don’t want to take advantage.”
His eyes held hers for another instant, and he tugged the scarf, drawing her closer. “What would Francesca do? I’ve seen you be assertive when it comes to what the animals need. You can take what you want for yourself, too.”
She jerked her scarf out of his hand and jammed it into the V of her coat. “Thanks for the advice, but I don’t recall either Francesca or myself asking for it.”
“You’re funny.” The dimple kicked into his cheek again, such a contrast to his dark, broody self. “I like that.”
He seemed more approachable when he smiled. And when he tossed the ball for the pups again and again, while she sipped the cider. She allowed herself to relax a little, to settle into the idea of spending time with him.
Maybe she could figure out why she was so drawn to him. “So you do like animals.”
“What made you think I didn’t?” He knelt to scratch the beagle on his floppy ears.
“Maybe the fact you don’t have a pet of your own in spite of living next door to a rescue. I’m sure Lacey has offered up candidates.”
“The moment was never right with undercover work.” He shrugged, and God, how his shoulders filled out his navy-blue jacket. “I’m thinking it’s time to change that. My schedule here is more regular.”
She set aside her mug before the spiked cider stole her restraint. “What made you trade big-city undercover detective work for a sleepy town and small-time stuff?”
“Yesterday was hardly small-time.”
“True enough.” She shuddered at the memory of the filth, but more than that, the pain in the animals’ eyes. “Yet certainly rarer than the work you used to do in Atlanta.”
“Call me crazy, but there’s an appeal to not waking up each morning wondering if I’ll be shot.” He refilled his mug and walked away, toward the pack of dogs rolling in the snow.
Guilt nipped as she watched him stride off with those broad shoulders braced. She was so caught up in her own problems she hadn’t thought about others, not really. Even if she wasn’t on the clock, job-wise, she should have picked up on this vibe from him before now.
She poured out the rest of the cider into the snow rather than risk the alcohol clouding her mind, and searched for the right words. Sometimes there was nothing to say, just let people have peace to work through the weight of emotion.
Her hand fell to rest on the container of dog biscuits. “I’ll put these pups back up with a treat and let some of the others out of their kennel runs.”
AJ’s footsteps crunched on the snow, louder and closer until she felt the warmth of him standing behind her. His breath brushed her neck. “They’re having fun. Let’s wait a bit longer.”
Oooo-kay. What did he want from her? What did she want?
She picked up the box of cookies and turned to face him, dog biscuits between them. “Pumpkin peanut butter treats. I took some to the shelter this morning and they were a hit with the canine crowd.”
His hands covered hers over the container. “Great news about the dogs from the meth lab. Will you be going with Lacey to pick them up? Or do you have to work tomorrow, Dr. Freud?”
Her hands warmed even though they both wore gloves. She should just give him the cookies and step away. But she didn’t. “I wouldn’t miss it. I already called in to work a half day tomorrow afternoon so I can go to the shelter in the morning and be there for the temperament test.”
“I’ve been thinking about those dogs.” Snow fluttered down, catching on his lashes and making those blue eyes all the more mesmerizing.
“And?” Brilliant response.
He took the cookies from her and set them back on the table. “The police department wants to sponsor a Second Chance dog for the February competition.”
“That’s awesome.” She relaxed back against an icy-slick trunk. “Who’s going to be the dog’s foster? Wyatt?”
“That would be me.” He braced a gloved palm over her head on the tree.
Now, that stunned her silent.
“I thought we could use one of the dogs from yesterday, if any of them works out, and you would be the trainer.”
She struggled to follow his words, tough to do with all the heat pulsing through her veins until she could have sworn the snowflakes steamed on her sleeves. “I train therapy dogs and emotional-support dogs.”
“Then you can include some of that emotional-support aspect to help me get over all those bullets whizzing past my head back in Atlanta.” He winked.
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t appreciate your making light of my profession.”
“Sorry.” He raised both hands in surrender. “The department is on me about being a cranky, irritable son of a bitch. This will get them off my back and you can’t deny it will be good promo for the rescue to have one of their pups partnered with one of the men in blue.”
Maybe he’d been using humor to shield something deeper. Wouldn’t be the first time. But she didn’t want to analyze him right now. “Sure, but—”
“Good. Then we’re in agreement. We’re working with one of the Second Chance dogs for the competition.”
He angled forward and she readied herself for another kiss on the forehead or on the cheek. She steeled herself to resist. Then his mouth pressed to hers and all her resolve melted away faster than snowflakes hitting a skillet. Sizzling with fire.
Steaming desire through her.
A sigh slipped free, parting her lips, and he deepened the kiss. His mouth angled, his tongue meeting hers just as she stretched up on her toes to get closer. Her arms crept around his neck and she held on, grateful for the tree behind her to keep her from sinking.
His hands cradled her face, a simple touch but it stirred as much as flesh on flesh contact. Her eyes fluttered closed as she focused more intently on absorbing the feel of him against her. Remembering. The chemistry between them was every bit as explosive as before. Even more.
Her fingers twisted in his coat, her hips arching closer, nowhere near close enough with all these layers of clothes between them. Years of abstinence sharpened the edge of desire into a painful ache, almost impossible to resist, especially with her apartment so very close. Her solitary, lonely apartment.
Words began to form in her mind, impulses urging her to just say it. Just ask him to follow her up those stairs to her studio apartment.
A slamming door startled her, her eyes opening wide and her stomach lurching at the prospect of being discovered making out with AJ behind a tree.
Voices drifted on the snowy breeze, familiar voices of volunteers who’d come to the holiday dinner.
“We should help Mary Hannah get the rest of the dogs out before we head home,” Debbie said. “Did you bring those rope toys?”
“Sure did,” her husband answered, boot steps steady as he lumbered through the snow.
They were seconds away from being discovered.
AJ’s hands stroked down her face to rest on her shoulders before he stepped back. Cold air rushed between them, all the more biting against her overheated face.
Her rapid breaths puffed needy clouds into the late afternoon air. “AJ—”
He tapped her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You will?” She spoke against his fingertip and resisted the impulse to nip and draw it into her mouth.
“At the shelter, to find out if I’m a love match with one of the dogs.” He stepped back slowly without taking those mesmerizing blue eyes off her. “Good night, Mary Hannah. Sleep well.”
Eight
I didn’t realize how much pressure came with the question “Is that your final answer?”
—FEMALE BOXER, FOUR YEARS OLD, SHELTER #S75230
WATCHING THE LAST of her guests drive away, Lacey sagged into a chair
on the glassed-in back porch where she kept puppies so she could watch over them. The space was empty now from Christmas adoptions.
She expected the space to be filled tomorrow once Mary Hannah picked up some of the meth-house dogs and pups. She couldn’t keep operating as if life were normal for much longer if it turned out she really was pregnant. She still wasn’t sure. She was only a few days late, and the home pregnancy test was negative. But she felt pregnant, exhausted, with swollen boobs and feet.
She would have to tell Wyatt soon.
That didn’t mean she would have to stop working with animals, but it would curtail her duties, as it had yesterday. Not to mention juggling all of this with an infant would be challenging. Just the thought of keeping up with a toddler again exhausted her. She was almost a grandmother, for heaven’s sake.
All of her lectures to her teenage son about safe sex plagued her. She’d definitely lost her credibility in that arena. But damn it, the condom really had broken. She’d started watching the calendar, and sure enough . . .
She sipped her Waterford crystal glass of lemon water. If ever she could have used something stronger . . . She propped her aching feet on the patio coffee table.
Everyone had gone home or to bed. The volunteers had cleaned up and fed the animals as an additional gift to her. She was lucky in so many ways. Knowing that didn’t stop the nerves eating at her until her hand trembled and she had to set the glass down again.
Hands slipped onto her shoulders, massaging. She hadn’t even heard Wyatt approach. He moved so quietly for such a large man. Because of his job perhaps. She rested her hand over his.
“Thank you. That feels amazing.” She closed her eyes, her head lolling to the side as she savored each kneading roll into knotted muscles.
“Touching you is amazing.” He kissed her temple. “I’ve been waiting all day to get you alone.”
“Holidays are crowded. It’s family time.” She was lucky to have him in her life. She knew that.
Was it so wrong that she wanted to take things slower and ease her way into the relationship? She’d rushed to the altar with Allen because she’d gotten pregnant. But she wasn’t a frightened teenager. Even afraid, she’d been so certain Allen was her future. She needed to be as certain this time, regardless.
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