“Oh, my God.” She stood frozen, a look of complete horror on her face.
“Shit. I apologize. Here, let me get it. I always carry a drool cloth with me as he does tend to get a tad messy.” I didn’t even think, simply wiped the egg-white-like drool from her chest, pausing only when I realized she continued to stand there stunned, and I’d been too personal.
“Sorry. I’m happy to pay for the dry cleaning.”
Finally snapping out of it, she stepped away quickly. “No. No. Don’t bother. Good night.”
As soon as she’d disappeared up the stairs, I turned to my goofy boy. “So much for being a good wingman. Let’s finish our walk, so I can go and attempt damage control.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Emma
I hurried away from Trevor and the beast as fast as my heels would take me. I didn’t like dogs. Actually, scratch that. It wasn’t that I truly disliked them, but rather that I was terrified of them. It all stemmed from a particularly mean, big dog who had bitten me at a foster home when I was a small child. And Trevor’s dog was massive. So much so that it was difficult to avoid shaking from fear. It might seem silly, but I hadn’t been around a lot of dogs since childhood. And then the beast had shaken his head, allowing the most disgusting thing ever to fly from his mouth.
Bollocks. Would this stain?
I removed the dress the moment I was in my flat and blotted it with soda water.
Gross.
I couldn’t believe that sort of slime came out of his dog’s mouth often enough that Trevor carried a drool cloth.
After stripping out of the rest of my clothes and changing into yoga pants and a tank top, I made a quick salad. I then sat down to eat it with a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio. I enjoyed dinners alone. Peace and quiet with no agenda or anybody asking me about my day. Some people might feel lonely, but not me.
The sound of a knock on the door thirty minutes later made me sigh. Taking a quick glance through the peephole, I was not surprised to see Trevor on the other side. I opened the door, but any words died on my lips because he was holding a bouquet of flowers.
“These are from Rufus. He sent me straight to the store to get them in an effort to apologize. He can’t help his jowls drooping, which causes an inordinate amount of slobber that sometimes finds an unsuspecting victim. He does hope the dress survived.”
I fought the grin, taking the flowers in hand. Lilies, my favorite. If, you know, I was into getting flowers from a handsome guy. “The dress will live to see another day. And perhaps Rufus should go have a consultation with a plastic surgeon. Get a little tuck there under the mouth to help his unfortunate droopy jowl problem.”
Trevor threw his head back and laughed. The effect of this took me off guard with a sudden wave of attraction. I didn’t know him, but there seemed to be no pretense in the man.
“Maybe next time we’re in LA, we’ll keep it in mind. Can I maybe interest you in dinner tonight?”
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten and—”
“What did you have?”
I’d been about to tell him I wasn’t interested in dinners with him, only to be thrown by his question. “A salad. And—”
“That’s not enough. No wonder you’re so skinny. What you need is a steak.”
His comment completely derailed my train of thought. First, no one would ever mistake me for skinny. Voluptuous, curvy, but never skinny—especially with my ass. And secondly, why was he so interested in my diet?
“I don’t eat red meat.” I did, but I tried not to make a habit of it. I kept to a limited daily caloric intake.
“Shh. You can’t go and say something like that in the middle of cow country.”
God, he was adorable and sweet. And he was a serious threat to my rule not to date a suit again. “Look, although I think you’re nice and funny, you’re not my type. Okay?”
“Nice and funny guys aren’t your type?”
Actually, nope. I preferred them dark and tortured. Just like me on the inside. “I don’t mean to sound bitchy.”
“Which is basically a disclaimer that whatever you’re about to say might be.”
Once again, he’d thwarted my next words—because he was right. “Okay. Probably. The bottom line is we’re working together.” I held his gaze to ensure he understood this wasn’t a game. I was serious. Perhaps with some regret, but he didn’t have to know that.
He smirked, which was even hotter on him than the grin. “Got it. Then we can be friends.”
No. I didn’t want to be friends. But how do you nicely say to someone you were going to work with ‘we can’t be friends’ without it sounding like a dick move? “Sure. Friends. Uh, thanks for the flowers from Rufus and good night.”
He smirked a second time. “Good night, Emma.”
Damn. It was as if he knew what hearing my name in that slow, honeyed accent did to me.
***
The next morning, I showed up in the office early and found myself on edge while watching the door. It had to be Trevor making me feel this way. And I didn’t like it. I was typically in control, especially at work where I normally didn’t have to worry about being off-kilter.
I replayed last night’s conversation in my head more times than I could count. I searched for fault, something for which I could take him to task, but I didn’t find a thing. He’d been sweet. I didn’t do sweet. Especially when it came in the form of such an attractive man. Sweet couldn’t comprehend the dark places I’d been, nor did it understand my deep fear of letting people close to me.
I might recognize my feelings were all about self-preservation, but I certainly wasn’t admitting that to anyone.
“Good morning, Emma,” Trevor greeted when he walked in, looking way too handsome in his charcoal gray suit and a blue tie that brought out his eyes.
I tamped down my spiking adrenaline from his presence and the sound of his drawl. “Good morning. Simon should be in shortly, but you’re all set up in the office to the right. You have your own laptop, correct?”
“I do. Thank you.” And with that, he walked into his office. Aside from the shuffling of some things, there wasn’t another sound. I half expected him to come out and make chitchat or call me in as an excuse to talk some more. I found myself oddly disappointed when he did neither.
Simon came in fifteen minutes later. “Trevor is already here?”
“Yes. About quarter past he came in.”
“Brilliant. We’ll be tied up most of the day. Do you mind ordering in lunch?”
What I admired about Simon was he always asked if I minded when doing such tasks was in fact my job. “I’d be happy to. Sandwiches okay?”
“Yes. And I’ll send over my notes on a company out of Boston about which I’ve been doing some due diligence. Would appreciate your feedback.”
“Of course.” I sat down once he went into his office and waited for him to send the document.
I was distracted. An hour after Simon had come in, they were both in the conference room, and I could hear Trevor’s laugh along with his thoughtful questions. If I was feeling this unsettled after one morning, what would an entire week entail?
***
On Saturday, I arrived at Peyton’s house at six o’clock for the barbeque. As always, she had a knack for putting me at ease, with a genuine smile and affection upon greeting me at the door. She was beautiful, with brown, curly hair, amber eyes, and a slim figure, dressed this evening in simple jeans and a T-shirt. Although I enjoyed Peyton’s company, she too had a beast of a dog. A Great Dane by the name of Cooper.
Was having a giant dog something that went along with Texas? She gave me an understanding smile, aware I tried to avoid her pooch. “Don’t worry. He’s in the backyard. I know he’s not your favorite.”
Because I didn’t want her to be offended, I was honest. “Truth be told, I’m just a little intimidated by large dogs. Not his fault.”
“Well, no wonder you didn’t care for Rufus, then,” came the voice f
rom behind me. It belonged to none other than Trevor, who was holding the subject in question by leash. Gratefully, he backed up so as not to bring his pony of a dog any closer to me.
I could feel my neck heating with embarrassment, not liking the fact he’d heard me confess my fear of dogs. But luckily, I was saved from any further awkwardness when Peyton stepped forward to greet him.
“You must be Trevor. Welcome.” She held out her hand to his and then dropped down to her knee to greet Rufus face to face. “And hello there, beautiful. Who’s the good boy? Oh, yes, he is.”
She quickly had the giant canine on his back, wanting more love from her on his stomach. I stood there in awe. How could she be so fearless with a dog that size? I was snapped out of it when the blonde came up behind Trevor. Instantly, I stiffened at the thought he’d brought a date, and then I realized it was his sister. She looked different from when I’d seen her at the gym.
“And this is my sister, Avery. Avery, this is Peyton. Thanks for inviting us both over. It was kind of you.”
Peyton met the younger girl, and they exchanged pleasantries until Avery’s gaze landed on me. She practically skipped over, apparently excited to see me. “My brother said you might be here. It’s so nice to see you again, Emma.”
Her enthusiasm was tough to resist. “Nice to see you again, too.”
Simon stepped out onto the front porch and took in all of the new arrivals. “Hey, everyone. I just put the steaks on. Come on in.”
I had to laugh at something so very Texas coming out in his proper British accent. He was dressed in jeans and a button-down, which was about as casual as I’d ever seen him. I’m quite sure he never wore denim until he met Peyton.
For dinner, I stuck to salad, only indulging in a cookie for dessert and, of course, my wine. Afterward, I snuck into the kitchen to help tidy up so Peyton wouldn’t have to. That’s when Trevor found me.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” Although I’d seen him all week and we’d exchanged pleasantries, this was the first time he’d initiated a conversation outside of “good morning” or “good night.”
“I’m about to wrap up the food. Did you want seconds?” I offered.
He patted his stomach, which from the way his button-down shirt clung to him was definitely fit. “No, I’m stuffed. I was coming in to grab another beer.”
“Here you are.” I already had the refrigerator open and handed him a cold one. I tried not to let the little zing I got from simply grazing his hand affect me. Jesus. Clearly, it had been too long since I’d had sex. That had to be the reason I was fighting an attraction here.
“Thanks. Are you cleaning up? I’ll help you.”
“You don’t have to. I just thought—”
“To avoid the two big dogs in the backyard currently chasing one another around like maniacs.”
I laughed at his description because it’s exactly what I’d been thinking. “Yeah. It’s like they’re long-lost mates. You sure they haven’t met one another before?”
He shook his head, gathering up some of the dishes and starting to rinse them. “Nope. I think it’s simply the instant compatibility of slow-moving, drooly, Texas dogs who will probably pass out from all of their efforts tonight.”
“Does he sleep with you in your bed?” Now why did I have to go and ask him such personal question, especially having to do with his bed? Because now I was thinking of his it. And him in it.
“No. I didn’t want to get into that habit given he’s one hundred and fifty pounds. He has a comfy one beside mine, though.”
“Probably a good idea.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of dogs on Monday?”
“I’m not afraid of them. I just don’t care for them.”
I turned to see him leaned up against the counter, studying me while taking a pull on his beer.
“Something happen with you and a dog?”
Why not tell him? It didn’t matter if he knew or not. “I got bit when I was six by a big one. I wasn’t around them much after that, so I guess I’m simply wary.”
“Your parents had a dog?”
Given that I didn’t have parents, his guess wasn’t even close. “No. It belonged to someone in the neighborhood.”
“Understandable then. You know, if you want to beat your fear, Rufus is the dog for it. He’s gentle and would never bite.”
“I’m not—” I was about to say scared, but I’d be lying and he’d realize it. I hated being frightened of anything, let alone a dog who’d allowed Peyton’s nieces to crawl all over him this evening. “I— Maybe at some point I could try to pet him. But not here.”
He seemed to understand I didn’t want an audience to witness my irrational fear. “Maybe back at housing some time then. Here, I’ll wash if you want to dry.”
“Sure.”
We engaged in some small talk over the next twenty minutes with nothing flirtatious or too personal. By the time we were done, I realized it was growing late, and I’d yet to embark on my mission of finding out what type of engagement ring Peyton would want.
I hadn’t realized I’d sighed until he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just something I need to do.”
“Work-wise?”
“No, no.” I hesitated since this was personal for Simon. It wasn’t as though Trevor would be able to help, but at this point, I was open to any and all ideas.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course.”
I didn’t think Simon would mind, but I certainly didn’t want him thinking I was gossiping about his business. “I need to find out what type of ring Peyton might prefer, and I’m not sure how to bring up the subject without being obvious.”
He seemed to think about it a moment. “Simon’s secret is safe with me. And I’ve got an idea.”
“You do?” I was shocked.
“Yep. Give me ten minutes, then come on outside. I have a plan.”
“What plan?”
“Don’t worry.” He turned on heel, heading out the door.
Famous last words. Because now I was worried. If he blew this, Simon would never forgive me.
I stepped outside ten minutes later to see all the women sitting around the beautiful glass fire pit. Simon, Peyton’s brother-in-law and his neighbor were by the barbeque. The dogs were worn out, lying beside one another like best mates. Trevor gave me a wink before sitting down with the girls. He made me nervous about his so-called plan, but I took a chair amid the group, curious to see what was up his sleeve.
He was seated in a lawn chair next to Peyton with his sister on the other side of him. “You have one of those automatic Roomba vacuum things, Peyton?”
She shook her head. “No. I’d love to get one, but I think it would drive Cooper crazy to see it moving around the house. I think I’d come home with it chewed up.”
“Good, because I wouldn’t recommend them to people with dogs.”
“Yeah, did Rufus chew one up?”
He grinned. “Nope, way worse.”
Where the hell was he going with this?
“We unfortunately discovered pooparoomba a few months back while I had Rufus visiting my father’s house in Houston.”
“What is pooparoomba?” Peyton asked.
Avery gave a convincing shiver. “Awful. Scarring and horrible.”
He laughed. “It was. So picture this. A Roomba thing has a floor plan and moves in a pattern. Imagine your dog was shut in the bedroom, but makes his way out and has an unfortunate accident on the carpet. And the Roomba doing what a Roomba does, runs over it and proceeds on its merry way for the next hour, spreading the poop throughout the entire top floor of the house in quite the pattern. Pooparoomba is born.”
Everyone cracked up, myself included. What the actual fuck this had to do with gleaning information on what type of ring Peyton wanted, I had no clue.
“Had to replace the entire carpet. And poor Rufus is relegated to the pool house from now on w
hen my father is home.”
Avery spoke up. “Yes, and no more Roomba because that thing also sucked up my engagement ring. Thankfully, not together with the poop. Anyhow, I had to take it apart to get the ring out.”
“I didn’t know you were engaged,” Peyton said.
Trevor stood up. “That’s my cue to join the boys.” He moved on as if passing the baton to his sister.
“I was engaged, but I caught him with my best friend. Guess I should’ve taken it as a sign when the Roomba sucked up the ring.”
“I’m so sorry,” Peyton offered.
“Thank you. At least I wasn’t heartbroken over the ring. Truth is I didn’t care for it. He didn’t ever ask what type of ring I wanted. Just bought whatever it was he thought would look good.”
Ding, ding, ding. I was impressed. Avery and Trevor must’ve planned out this bizarre transition.
Avery sighed. “Not to sound bratty, and I never complained when we were together, but I much prefer the round cut in a platinum setting. Mine was pear and in gold. What about you, Emma? What kind of cut do you prefer?”
Huh. Right. I was expected to participate. How had this turned to me when I had absolutely no aspirations toward getting engaged or picking a ring? “I quite like anything vintage.” There was something about a family heirloom that had been passed down for generations which intrigued me. Perhaps it was because I had absolutely nothing from my own birth family. Not one picture. Not a special blanket. Nothing.
“I love vintage, too. Something about the history is so romantic,” Peyton remarked. “I especially love the platinum settings.”
I had what I needed and couldn’t wait to tell Simon. Smiling, I met Trevor’s eyes across the yard. When he winked, I tried not to blush.
By the time I made it home later that night, I realized I’d actually started to feel comfortable with him. However, I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Trevor
As I sat in my apartment hours after the barbeque, I realized I was having a hard time with Emma friend-zoning me. Not that I was arrogant, but this had never happened to me with a woman. At least we’d struck some sort of balance earlier tonight at the barbeque. I could tell she was becoming more comfortable with me. When I’d started my story about the Roomba—God, the expression on her face had been priceless.
Without Regret Page 4