Tallulah Trouble

by Casey Hagen

  Grazi nodded. “Maybe.”

  “Not so sure?” Abby asked.

  She tucked a stray piece of hair, sticking to her cheek, behind her ear. “Well, I don’t know. I thought it might be about money at first, him being a ballplayer and all. Then I thought it was an age thing, but with what he told me about her being gun-shy, I guess it’s not that.”

  Abby shrugged. “It’s love.”

  “What is love anyway?” Grazi said, squinting out at the glittering sea before them.

  “Ooooh, a cynic. I get it,” Abby said, grabbing a juice box from the cooler next to her and handing it to Grazi.

  Grazi took the drink, unsure of what to do with it. Was she supposed to pass it to Blake? “I’m not trying to be. It just seems a bit too easy, too fast.”

  Abby popped the straw of the drink in her hand and stuck it in the foil hole before handing it to Blake. “It’s okay, I get it, but I’ve got to tell you, there’s nothing easy about burying two husbands by forty and then forcing yourself to open your heart for a third time.”

  She glanced down at the juice just in time to see Abby snatch it out of her hand, pop the straw, and pierce the foil before handing it back to her. “No, I don’t suppose there is. I can’t say I know how she feels. My longest relationship was maybe a year, and we never even lived together.”

  Abby took a sip of her own juice and nodded. “Well, Blake’s father died when he was just a toddler. It took a long time to force myself to go out. When I did, I didn’t do it right. Or maybe it was right, since we’re married now, and he’s given me this precious little one and another two on the way.”

  Grazi attempted to take a dignified sip of the drink, but she had a feeling she fell short of the mark. “Twins?”

  “Yeah,” Abby said with a laugh.

  “And you’re not scared?”

  Abby’s eyes widened, and she ran her hand over her belly. “I’m terrified.”

  Grazi’s gaze landed on the sleeping girl again. She sucked in a ragged breath and sighed it out.

  She’d be lying if she didn’t admit to feeling a bit of a twinge in long-forgotten places. She’d written off having kids. If she couldn’t find a man strong enough to handle her career, how would she find someone she could marry and have a family with?

  Somewhere around thirty-two, she’d started telling herself she didn’t want kids anyway.

  Her thirty-five-year-old self called her a liar.

  Maybe Sebastian and Kate would have a couple. “Does Kate want kids?”

  “It’s not really for me to say for sure, but I doubt it. She did at one time, but now she feels her time has pretty much passed.”

  “I get that,” Grazi said.

  Abby tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Really? You still have time.”

  Grazi shrugged. “A little, but nothing in my life is aligned. I’ve recently started reevaluating my career, where I live, and then there’s that whole not having a man thing. That really throws a wrench into the works.”

  “Spend a few more days in Tallulah Cove, maybe visit the Little Laguna, and you’ll be shaking the single men out of your hair,” Abby said.

  “I don’t know about that,” Grazi said. And to be honest, she wasn’t interested. When she thought of men, of dating, only one guy popped into her mind.

  “That’s where I met my husband, Ben,” Abby said.

  Ben? Hmmm. “What’s your last name?”

  “That’s an odd question, but it’s Davenport.”

  “This is a spooky small town. I just met your husband about an hour ago at Pastry Masters. He told me about some job opportunities and made sure I had his card so if I’m in the market for a home build, I’d give him a call. I think I get Blake’s dedication to that sand castle over there, now,” she said, hitching a thumb in his direction.

  Abby laughed and bumped her shoulder with her own. “That would be my husband. Now tell me, and be honest…did he buy a bunch of glazed donuts?”

  Grazi nudged her back and grinned. “Nope, just a coffee,” she said before taking a sip of the juice.

  “Good… and for being such a good boy, I’ll give him a private reward tonight,” Abby said, meeting her gaze. Her lips twitched again, and she burst out with a laugh. “Who am I kidding? I would have done that anyway. I mean, you saw him.”

  Grazi laughed with her. God… had she just made a friend? A female friend who quite literally had nothing in common with her. She hadn’t enjoyed a conversation so much in years.

  “Yes, and you’re a lucky woman. Look, can I ask you something? Just between us?” Grazi asked, gesturing between them.

  “Sure,” Abby said.

  Grazi winced and went for it. “What’s the deal with Isaac Cole?”

  Abby’s face lit up, her eyes shot open wide, and her mouth formed a perfect O. “Ooooh, well, well, well. You’re interested in Isaac?”

  “I never said that; I’ve just had a couple run-ins with him is all,” Grazi muttered.

  “Uh-huh,” she said, nudging her. “You didn’t have to say it, your eyes did that for you.”

  “Okay, the man is good-looking, but there’s got to be something wrong with him if he’s single, right?”

  “Not necessarily. He hasn’t been single for long. I guess it’s been almost a year now.” Abby leaned over and called out to her son, “Blake, baby… don’t throw the sand up like that. You’ll get it in your eyes.”

  Grazi glanced over to Blake who smiled at his mother and started to lift the bucket again as if he were going to defy her.

  “Boy…” Abby said, aiming a finger his way, her face sliding into a hard expression that might just rival any Grazi had given in her sixteen years of Army life.

  He pressed his lips together and dropped the bucket.

  Grazi fought the urge to laugh. “He was married?”

  Abby glanced around and laid her hand over Amelia’s ear. “Yes, and listen, I don’t like to talk ill of people, but Amy Cole is a sack of rat piss.”

  “Damn. Tell me how you really feel,” Grazi said.

  Abby slashed an angry hand through the salty California air, her delicately arched, dark brows slashing over her eyes. “She did nothing but boss him around, taking advantage of the fact that he’d be willing to do just about anything to honor his vows.” She pointed at Grazi. “Isaac, he’s one of the good ones.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She ended up with the vet business he built in San Jose. I don’t know all the details, but he’s the one who made it a success, and then he met her, a new vet right out of college. They were married for five years, and in that time, she managed to convince clients that he was doing unnecessary procedures and padding bills.”

  She barely knew him, but in the time she had spent with him, not one damn thing gave her any indication that he might be a thief or cheat. “Rat piss might be a kind assessment.”

  “Right! The whole time she was doing that, she’d go home, they’d eat dinner, and she’d pretend to be a doting wife.”

  “It’s a wonder he’s even interested in women at all,” Grazi said.

  “Well, that’s just the thing… he hasn’t been. He’s rebuffed every attempt at setting him up,” Abby said.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Looks like someone might have given Isaac his mojo back. He’d be a terrible body to waste,” Abby said, wiggling her eyebrows at her.

  Grazi turned her head and rested it on the hands laying over her bent knees. “I’m glad I met you, Abby.”

  Abby nodded and smiled, her eyes softening. “I’m glad I met you, too. Now, be honest, how has it been taking care of Hank?”

  Grazi shot up straight. “Oh shit! What time is it?”

  Abby glanced at her phone. “Almost eleven. Why?”

  Grazi scrambled to her feet, spraying her sneakers with sand. “I meant to be home after a couple hours. It’s been almost four. Dammit! I have to run.”

  Abby laughed. “No worries, but don’t pan
ic, he can’t get into trouble in the crate.”

  “No, he can’t, and that might reassure me had I put him in the crate,” Grazi muttered, shoving her sandy feet into her sneakers. The sock balled up at the toe, forcing her to pull it off and start again.

  “You left him in the house?”

  Grazi flicked a glance at her before sliding her sandy foot in the other shoe. “Backyard.”

  Abby’s hand shot to her mouth. “Oh no! He’s a digger.”

  Of course he was.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Bring on the Humiliation

  HOLES.

  Holes fucking everywhere.

  Grazi pressed her forehead to the sliding door, laid her palms on the glass, and closed her eyes.

  It’s all just a bad dream. I’m going to count to five, open my eyes, and find a neat backyard, the lush, green grass untouched, and Hank will be sitting on the patio, leg over his head, licking his bells.

  She squinted out of her right eye.

  Hank jumped up and laid his dirty paws against her hands on the other side of the glass. He panted against the slider, dirt covering his snout. When she didn’t open the door, he began licking the glass.

  Dammit!

  She cracked open the door just far enough to squeeze out. Hank jumped up and smeared dirt all over her white tank top, knocking her off balance.

  She aimed a finger at him. “You and me, dude. We’re going to get into it, but first, a bath for you.” She opened the Rubbermaid storage shed in the corner where Sebastian said she could find anything she might need for Hank.

  A brand-new collar hung from a hook next to a couple extra leashes. Dog shampoo and a dog brush sat on a shelf in the back. Below that, old towels.

  “It’s on now, you little menace.” Getting him to the hose on the side of the house was easy since he thought he was her little shadow.

  Turning on the hose, she let it run for a few minutes to flush out the water that sat in it for who knows how long. She’d made a good call, too, since the water flowing out ran hot at first.

  “As much of a pain in the ass as you are, I’m not looking to burn you.”

  His answer to her kindness was to drop down to his belly and stick his snout in the grass and rub it back and forth until he found dirt.

  “Don’t dig the damn holes right in front of me. Come on!” she said, taking his collar and sitting him next to the hose.

  She adjusted the sprayer to the shower setting and rinsed him with water from his neck to tail. The water rolled off his thick fur at first so she ran her fingers through his hair until it penetrated his coat to the skin.

  He tilted his head back and gazed at her through half-lidded eyes.

  “You like that, don’t you, boy?”

  His eyes drifted shut as his answer.

  Grabbing the soap, she squeezed a thick strip down the center of his back and worked him to a full lather. She soaked one of the smaller towels and diluted the soap on it to wipe at the fur covering his face and around his ears.

  Rinsing him clean, she crouched and met his eyes, knowing that if she didn’t get him wrapped in a towel quick, he’d shake off all the excess water… right on her.

  “Gotcha!” she said, throwing the towel over him, trapping him in terrycloth. Only he didn’t budge.

  “Oh. Huh. Well, look at you, Hank. You have manners after all,” she said, scrubbing away at the fur around his neck while he panted his hot doggie breath in her face.

  “Guy, you could really use a mint.”

  “Why? You plan on kissing him?”

  She stiffened at the sound of Isaac’s voice. Glancing over her shoulder, she found him coming through the privacy gate.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I did say this afternoon,” he said. He gazed about the yard, and those eyebrows of his shot above his aviator sunglasses. “You left him outside, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know—”

  “Shut it.”

  He laughed at her and leaned an elbow against the house, looking all relaxed in his faded blue jeans and blue T-shirt.

  And here she was crouched on the ground, sand still digging into her feet, covered in dirt.

  Spotting movement out of the corner of her eye, she shot up just as a lizard ran across the hose.

  Hank took off at a run after it, taking with him their tentative truce and any warm feelings she had begun to feel. His clean paws tore through dirt piles along the way as he shot across the yard and skidded to a halt at the back near the privacy fence. Barking like a rabid dog, he vibrated on his feet, dancing from side to side.

  “Hank!” she yelled, just to be ignored.

  She stood, shielding her eyes, and tried a different tactic. “Hank? Come here, boy,” she called, slapping her thighs and infusing enthusiasm she didn’t feel into her voice.

  He didn’t even glance in her direction and instead kept his eyes trained on the lizard standing on top of the fence.

  She’d commanded teams of soldiers. Men overrun with testosterone carrying weapons and managed to get compliance from every order. Sure, at times they made comments and such, but they didn’t dare disobey an order less the Army step in and make their insubordination a part of their permanent record.

  But she had nothing, no magic wand, no genie in a bottle, or magic spell to make the ball of fur follow her directions.

  No wonder Isaac thought she needed training.

  A familiar piercing whistle split the air, and Hank’s head snapped around. Just when Grazi breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that he’d run toward Isaac, the lizard leapt from the fence.

  And ran toward the house, and the open sliding glass door.

  The nightmare unfurled before her. Digging her sneakers into the ground for purchase, she tried to run interference and nab Hank, just to slip and scramble on the wet grass.

  She imagined she looked a lot like one of those mice trying to run off of one of those glue traps, and if that wasn’t bad enough, her sneaker slid right out behind her, making her fall to her knees.

  Hank decimated four piles of dirt, the particles clinging to his newly cleaned fur before he darted through the door.

  Grazi lay on the wet ground, her fingers tangled in the grass, her gaze on the small opening.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. He’d jumped up on her, and she’d forgotten all about shutting it.

  She dropped her forehead to the grass and pounded her fist into the ground.

  “You okay?” Isaac asked, crouching over her.

  “Yeah, fine,” she mumbled into the grass. “I’m just going to be out here searching for my dignity. It might take a while. Don’t wait for me.”

  “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad,” he said, taking her elbow and pulling her up. “You could have slid in dog shit. That would have been worse.”

  She brushed off her hands and shot him a glare. “Gee, thanks for the perspective.”

  He glanced down, and his lips twitched. “I see Hank got to second base. The dog has moves.”

  She winced as she glanced down at herself. Her sneakers squished, saturated with water.

  Wet grass covered her knees and thighs.

  And Hank had left her with a doggie paw print on each tit.

  “Today might not be the best day for a lesson,” she said as humiliation spiked inside her, and she fought to keep her shoulders from slumping in defeat.

  “Oh, I disagree. Seems like if we don’t get to this today, you might not make it the week,” he said.

  She hated that he thought that of her. She didn’t surrender, dammit! She was a soldier. She lifted her chin and blew out a breath. “Fine. But I need to get cleaned up first.”

  He nodded and turned toward the gate he’d come in. “Understandable. I can come back—”

  She snagged his shirt and yanked him back. “Oh, no…you’re not going anywhere. I can’t trust leaving him in there. Who knows what he’s done up to this point while we’ve been t
alking. You stay and keep an eagle eye on the little turd.”

  He glanced down at her hand and smirked. “Sure, I can do that.”

  “What’s wrong with him, anyway?” she asked, heading around the house.

  “Nothing is wrong with him, why?” he said with a laugh.

  “He is not a normal dog,” she said.

  “But he is a normal puppy.”

  “A puppy?”

  “Yes. In dog years, Hank is about eight,” he said.

  “He’s one hell of a big eight-year-old,” she said with a sigh before wiping her wet shoes on the mat in front of the door.

  “Well, that’s the thing about dogs, they hit their full size in the first year. Their owners just need to survive that energy level for the second year until they reach two and settle down.”

  “Lucky Sebastian and Kate,” she said.

  “They don’t mind, but then, they’ve both been around to give him never-ending attention.”

  She pushed the door open wide and stepped inside. Isaac stepped in behind her and closed the door. Hank lay in the middle of the kitchen chewing—ack!

  The lizard.

  She glanced over her shoulder to Isaac. “Can he get sick eating those?” she asked as she kicked off her sneakers.

  He slid his sunglasses off his face and hooked them over the collar of his shirt. God, he’d look good straddling a motorcycle with those jeans hugging his thighs, all loose limbs and lean muscles.

  He’s the first man she’d ever seen be both muscular and graceful, and so effortlessly in control of his body.

  In the bedroom, she imagined he’d have that air of lazy attentiveness. A casual confidence in his moves and abilities to pleasure a woman.

  Well, not that she could know for sure, but it made for one hell of a picture.

  “I don’t think he has a lizard. What the hell is that?” he asked, approaching Hank with tentative steps.

  She squinted over at the dog while brushing the grass off her legs. “Did I just see a flash of pink?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Great. Who knows what he’s chewing up now.”

  Isaac snaked out an arm and snagged the object from Hank. “Ha! I got it,” he said, waving it in the air.