Good Guys Love Dogs

by Inglath Cooper

  Ian shook hands with everyone. When his gaze finally met hers, she knew that he, too, remembered that morning at the clinic.

  “Our band for tonight went to the wrong state. Right now, they’re in Jefferson County, North Carolina,” the principal said, shaking his head. “So, we’re without music. Ian was nice enough to make a few calls to the local radio stations. Both DJs are booked for wedding receptions. I really don’t know what to do.”

  “Does the school have a music system, Mr. Walters?” Ian asked.

  “Yes. A pretty good one,” the principal said.

  “I’d be willing to play DJ if we can set it up in here.”

  Looking pleased with the suggestion, Mr. Walters said, “That would be great. You’d be a lifesaver. I’d hate to think what would happen if all the kids showed up, and we didn’t have any music. Colby, would you mind helping out?”

  A quick refusal sprang to her lips. “I don’t know very much about the kind of music the kids like.”

  “Yes, you do.” Mr. Walters smiled. “I’ll bet Lena’s laptop is full of it.”

  He was right. It was. It would be silly to refuse Mr. Walters’s request simply because she promised herself she would stay away from Ian. “It is.”

  “Terrific.”

  “So is Luke’s,” Ian said. He glanced at his watch and then looked at her. “We could run by our houses and grab them. What do you think?”

  Colby had to admit it seemed like a good idea. And since their options were limited, what else could they do? “Sure. I’d be glad to help.”

  Agreeing that it might be quicker to go separately, Ian and Colby took their own cars. Colby arrived back before he did. Mr. Walters had set up the speakers while they were gone. Once Ian arrived, the principal gratefully left them to it and went off to put out the most recent fire.

  They worked in silence, burning CDs of songs they thought would be appropriate for the dance. Within twenty minutes, they had a great mix.

  Ian turned to look at her. “Think we can pull this off?”

  The question startled her. They hadn’t said anything for the last ten minutes, both of them feigning intense concentration on the task at hand. She’d been on pins and needles the entire time. “If we don’t, we may have a rebellion on our hands,” she said, glancing toward the door where couples were filing in. It was almost eight-thirty. The dance officially started at eight, but no one came that early. “Good thing it isn’t cool to get here on time, huh?”

  Ian smiled. “Yeah. We might have been reduced to singing.”

  With the atmosphere between them considerably lighter, Colby laughed. “That would have been a disaster.”

  “And you haven’t even heard me sing,” he said in mock dismay.

  “I was speaking of my own lack of talent.”

  His gaze lingered on her. “You look incredible tonight, Colby.”

  “Thank you,” she said, realizing how much she wanted him to notice. She would have been lying to herself to deny it. “You look nice yourself.”

  “No mud or tomato juice on my shirt?”

  She smiled while awkwardness descended upon them in a grip every bit as crippling as any she had ever experienced as a teenager.

  For the next forty-five minutes or so, they played music and made small talk. A couple of their first selections got a few boos, but several songs into the mix, they apparently hit the right combination. The dance floor was packed, and no one seemed to be missing the band at all.

  Colby searched the crowd for Lena, finally spotting her on the other side of the gym. She waved, certain that Lena saw her, but Lena turned away without waving back.

  Colby restacked the CD cases in front of her, determined not to let it ruin the night.

  “They can put a knife through your heart, can’t they?” Ian asked in a quiet voice.

  Colby looked up, started to deny it, then decided there would be no point. He was right. And she knew he understood. “I never thought being a parent would be this hard. Even when she was a newborn and I was trying to go to college, it wasn’t this difficult.”

  “Caring is what makes it hard. I imagine it would be a lot easier if we didn’t love them so much.”

  “You’re right,” she said, sighing. “How are things with you and Luke?”

  “Better than they’ve been in a long time. We’re actually talking, and it feels really good.”

  “I’m happy for you. That’s terrific.”

  “Thanks.” He paused, then said, “Any word from Lena’s father?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  Ian reached out and squeezed her shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Or at least that’s what Colby told herself. That did not explain, however, her own response to it: the instant need it conjured up, the yearning to be alone with him, away from curious gazes, to pick up where they’d left off that Sunday morning in the storage room of her clinic.

  He took her arm and tugged her into the crowd. “Come on. What do you say we test our selection?”

  Before she knew it, they were in the middle of the throng of dancers, the song a Coldplay number Lena loved, and Colby had no idea how to dance to. She gave it her best shot, though, and after a minute or so, forgot about her inhibitions and relaxed.

  As a dancer, Ian surprised her. She’d always thought men of his height and breadth had a disadvantage when it came to looking good on a dance floor. He proved her wrong. They finished out two fast songs. Toby Keith played next with a toe-tapper about the woman of his dreams. “I don’t think I know how to dance to this one,” Ian said.

  “You were the one who wanted to come out here. You’re not getting off that easily. Come on. I’ll show you the two-step.” Colby took his hand and walked him through the motions. When he looked impressed that she knew it, she said, “That was the one thing I got out of my date with Tip LaPrade before he showed me the prenup agreement.”

  Ian laughed, the sound of it rich and full and undeniably seductive.

  He caught on quickly, and she said, “Let me guess. You own stock in a dance studio.”

  Ian smiled. “Right. I’ve also got a couple of bridges in Nevada if you’re interested.”

  Colby laughed. They finished out the Toby Keith. Kenny Chesney was next, and someone started a line dance. Everyone knew the steps except Ian. “You’ll catch on,” she told him when he began to look doubtful.

  He was a good sport, following her lead but missing every other step at first. His forehead wrinkled with the effort of concentrating, while the line of dancers moved gracefully in one direction and then the other. He started laughing at one point and said, “Clueless in Keeling Creek. That’s me.”

  Colby laughed, too, until tears threatened to ruin her mascara. She wiped at her eyes, smiling and refusing to let him give up. “No, you’re not. You’ve almost got it.”

  “Doesn’t that only count in horseshoes—”

  “—and hand grenades,” she finished.

  They both laughed again, and by the end of the song, he nearly had the hang of it.

  Something slow and bone melting followed. Alarm bells went off inside Colby. Time to get back to work. Distance between them was one thing. Dancing as closely as this song called for something else altogether. Colby turned to head back to the table, but Ian stopped her with a hand on her arm. From the look in his eyes, he, too, knew it wasn’t wise, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “One more?”

  If she’d had an ounce of honor inside her, she would have turned him down. But there in the middle of the crowded dance floor, his gaze held hers, said things that didn’t need words for expression. The message couldn’t have been more eloquent. Her own response echoed inside her, compelled her to take his hand, to move into the circle of his arms, the last place on earth she should have been.

  He held her close, closer than she should have allowed him to.

  The music echoed her pulse rate. Sensation heightened her awareness, making her conscious of each and every place their bo
dies touched in mirror alignment. Her left shoulder to his right, her hipbone to his thigh, their knees grazing with each half turn. She was aware of the silk of her dress smoothing across her skin, the brush of his cotton shirt on her arm.

  To Colby, dancing had always seemed an act of intimacy, but this? Another thing altogether. Here in his arms, they might have been the only two people in the room.

  Neither of them said a word throughout the entire song. They didn’t have to. Their bodies did the talking, and Colby knew there was no point in denying what they were saying. Yet she was dancing with a man engaged to another woman. A man who made her question her own choice to be alone all these years. She couldn’t make herself step out of his arms and walk away.

  They swayed to the music, their bodies in tune with the rhythm, in tune with each other. The song seemed to go on forever, but when it ended, Colby wished it hadn’t. They lingered for a moment under a spell of confusion, but the silence following the song jolted them both back to awareness. The CD player had stopped. Everyone on the dance floor stared at them.

  Blushing, she turned and headed back to the table. Ian followed her, pacifying the crowd with a promise that the music would be on in a second.

  Luckily for them, the problem ended up being nothing more than an electrical cord someone knocked loose. Ian got the music started again while Colby went off to get herself some punch. She wasn’t thirsty, but she needed to collect her thoughts.

  She stayed away as long as she could manage without totally deserting him, talking to anyone she recognized. Finally, she returned to the table, where Ian stood watching her with knowing eyes.

  “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” he said.

  “Ian, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to—” She broke off, thinking maybe she’d assumed too much.

  “You’re right.” He held up a hand. “It wasn’t.” And with that, he turned around and walked away.

  39

  No way!

  Her mother acting as DJ! With Luke’s father! And the two of them dancing together a little while ago. It was awful. The two of them looking at each other as if they couldn’t pull their eyes away.

  Her mother had to be doing this to deliberately embarrass her. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with, anyway.

  Lena stood in the shadow of a set of bleachers, her gaze on the dance floor where Luke swayed to a slow song with Melanie Cundiff.

  She felt as if her very soul were breaking into little bitty pieces, one grain at a time.

  What did he see in her, anyway?

  Lena glanced down at her dress and wished she could disappear. What a fool she’d been to let Millie convince her that she should show up without a date in the hope that he would be alone, as well. She deserved to feel this way. It served her right.

  Why did girls like Melanie always get the guys? Melanie already had more boyfriends than Lena dreamed of having in her whole life.

  But then, she knew the answer to her own question.

  Sex. It was always about sex. Melanie put out. Everybody knew it.

  Since she’d met Luke, Lena thought about making out a lot. But whenever her thoughts reached the sex part, they’d shied away. She couldn’t imagine that it might actually be fun. She’d grown up seeing animals do it, and to be honest, she’d always felt kind of sorry for the female. How could it be much different with humans?

  Luke and Melanie danced into her line of vision again. Melanie’s arms were tight around his neck, her breasts to his chest, her thighs against his. Obviously, Lena was wrong. There had to be a lot more to it than she’d imagined.

  So maybe she needed to try it herself. She was nearly sixteen. Several of her friends had already done it. The others were talking about doing it. Why wait, anyway?

  If sex would help her get Luke McKinley, then she would do it.

  She wouldn’t ever make the mistakes her mother had made though. Not ever.

  40

  It was almost one o’clock when the last few kids left the dance. Strung tight as a banjo string, Colby should have been tired, but she wasn’t. She and Ian had barely said two words to each other since he’d left the table earlier, returning a little while later with a set look on his face. She’d danced with the principal and a couple of other acquaintances, all of whom were married. Each of them teased her about the silent music she and Ian had been dancing to. Colby made light of their joking, while inside cringing at the thought of how it must have looked.

  Ian hadn’t asked her to dance again. In a way, she was relieved. She didn’t think her nerves could handle being that close to him. She wasn’t a good enough actress to pretend indifference.

  Lena came by the table earlier and said she wanted to spend the night with Millie. The gym was so crowded that Colby barely caught a glimpse of her the entire evening.

  Some of the other parents helped them clean up and put away the stereo equipment. Once they’d finished, she collected her purse and coat and deliberately avoided looking at Ian. “I’m calling it a night. ’Bye, everybody.”

  She’d just reached the parking lot when a voice behind her said, “Colby. Wait up.”

  She turned around to find Ian walking in her direction, his hands shoved inside the pockets of a long black wool coat that made him look even more appealing than he had earlier. He held her gaze for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for being such a jerk in there.”

  “You weren’t.”

  “I was.”

  “Okay, so you were.”

  That got a crooked smile out of him.

  She looked away. “I have to go. Good night, Ian.”

  “Would you like to take a drive?”

  Tentative though the question was, it surprised her. She met his gaze and shivered in the chill October air. “I really should get home,” she said, stepping back.

  “Just to talk? For a little while?”

  Common sense told her that going anywhere with him at this hour would be asking for trouble. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “Probably not.”

  Put that way, with that particular look on his good-looking face, Colby ignored logic and walked with him through the parking lot. She climbed inside the vehicle when he opened the door, then sat waiting for him to come around to the other side.

  They left the high school and headed out of town, driving without saying anything. The tension between them all but hummed.

  Blue Mountain Lake lay some ten miles outside of town. She recognized the turnoff to the dam as soon as Ian swung onto the narrow paved road that led to the lookout. It had been years since she’d been out here. During the day, the views were spectacular. She’d never seen it in moonlight. Until a couple of years ago, it had been closed off at night.

  They pulled into the left-hand corner of the lot. Ian cut the engine, and everything went black. He looped his arms over the steering wheel and stared out into the darkness. “I have no excuse for acting the way I did tonight. I had a good time. Maybe too good. And that was the problem.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He hesitated and then said, “The only excuse I have is that I wanted to kiss you so much I couldn’t think straight.”

  She considered that, a little shocked by his honesty.

  “I still do,” he added, turning to look at her.

  Colby’s pulse began a slow, rhythmic thud. It was cold inside the vehicle, and yet she felt suddenly warm, too warm. She loosened her coat and twisted the ring on her right hand. “Ian. . .you shouldn’t be saying that.”

  “No, I shouldn’t.”

  She felt the force of his gaze on her in the darkness, the heat of it, the directness that told her she hadn’t imagined the chemistry building between them throughout the night.

  When he moved toward her, she leaned across the seat to meet him, barely conscious of doing so, as if some irresistible force were pulling them together.

  His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb cares
sing the side of her throat.

  “I’ve done my best not to think about you. About this,” he said, his voice low and ragged. “And it’s been driving me crazy.”

  They sat there, mere inches between them, suspended between “Should we?” or “Shouldn’t we?”

  When he eased her against his chest, she realized they’d been headed toward this all night. Pretensions of anything else fell away, leaving nothing between them but raw, honest feelings. All the lectures she’d given herself these past weeks about getting involved with a man who wasn’t free collapsed beneath the reality of being in his arms. They kissed like two people who had been thinking about it for far too long, their mouths open and seeking, their arms locked tight around each other.

  Colby had been kissed before. She was a grown woman. She had a teenage daughter. But in Ian’s arms, she felt like a teenager. His touch made her forget all else. Pure, undiluted physical attraction caught her in its grip, full and ripe, like a peach ready to fall from the tree.

  Ian had taken his coat off before they’d left the school, but he still wore his suit jacket. Her own coat suddenly felt too cumbersome, too confining. As if reading her thoughts, he reached for her belt and untied it, slipping his hands inside to curve around her waist.

  All the while, they kissed and the clock on the dashboard ticked, ticked.

  Colby’s hands found their way inside Ian’s jacket, around to his back, where she smoothed her palms across corded muscle, then up to his shoulder blades.

  His hands cupped her face, tilting her head back while he nuzzled the line of her jaw. “You smell so good,” he said, his voice hoarse at the edges.

  The words were intoxicating. Colby sighed, and something inside her went warm and liquid. His lips trailed the curve of her neck, paused at the hollow of her throat while his thumb stroked her pounding pulse point.

  No one had ever held her with such appreciation, such heat, such wanting. It was heady and gratifying and unbelievably empowering.

  His kiss deepened, and the world tilted on its axis. She should stop him. Really. But it had been so long since a man touched her this way. Since she had wanted a man to touch her this way. “Ian—”