That was his first order of business. “Easy enough.” He addressed his instructions to Danny. “Every time she squats, pick her up, say ‘No’ sharply, and take her outside. Once she does what you want her to, say ‘Good dog.’ After a while, it sinks in. It’s basically like toilet training a baby, only easier.”
Rosemary laughed. He made it sound too simple. “My baby didn’t make a deposit on the hearth.”
Danny looked at her aghast. “Mom!”
She flashed him a smile. “Sorry.” Rosemary turned her attention to Chris. “How do you know so much about dogs?” She knew he didn’t have one of his own. At some point or other in the past three months, she was sure she would have heard it.
He had a fond look in his eyes when he answered. She expected him to say that his last girlfriend had had one. “My parents own a kennel and they breed dogs.”
Danny’s eyes looked as if they were going to roll out of his head. “Really?”
Chris couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. Reaching over, he ruffled Danny’s hair. The boy reminded him of an eager, young puppy himself. A sheepdog. “Really.” He looked at Rosemary. “Maybe you and your mother would like to visit it sometime?”
That was like asking Danny if he wanted a season’s pass to Disneyland. “Could we, Mom? Could we?”
She assumed that the invitation was extended with the same conviction of “Let’s do lunch.” Rosemary gestured toward the dog. For form’s sake only.
“Let’s concentrate on this dog first.” Danny still looked at her hopefully. “Besides, I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me with this contest, remember?”
The contest. Chris looked at her with interest. “How’s that going?”
She brightened, her enthusiasm budding now that the focus was off her and on work. He wondered if all her enthusiasm was reserved for her son and her business. “The response has been great.” Her gratitude was in her eyes. “I really can’t thank you enough for getting me that discount. I couldn’t have advertised on the air without it.”
He smiled expansively, turning another part of her into Jell-O. If he remained here long enough, he would systematically reduce all of her into a quivering glob by three o’clock, she judged.
“Hey,” he echoed what she had told him after letting him use her telephone, “what are neighbors for?”
For daydreaming about.
Her mind was wandering again, she thought. It was all Teri’s fault. There was no future in thinking about Chris in any capacity except a nice neighbor. If she ever went out with him she knew it would be a disaster. Twice was enough to convince her that as far as dates went, she had two left feet. Besides, he was out of her league, anyway. What would a hunky celebrity want with her?
“So,” Rosemary turned toward the dog. “Why don’t you show me what this bundle of trouble can do besides chew and christen everything she comes in contact with?”
3
Rosemary looked at the form in front of her on the desk. She had already gone over it several times, analyzing the answers and carefully studying them.
She could generally get a feeling about people from the way they responded to the twenty-five questions on her form. She’d gotten her master’s in English and had a good feel for words. In addition, she had minored in psychology. She felt that, plus her own natural intuit iveness, gave her a slight edge in discovering just what it was that made different people tick.
It worked for her as long as she wasn’t personally involved. Her natural abilities had failed her when she’d made herself the subject of a match.
Maybe, she mused, her heart really hadn’t been in it. Kind, considerate, handsome, and warmly funny, Patrick was a hard act to follow. Maybe her standards were too high.
Or maybe she was just a dud as a date.
But as long as she was arranging affairs for others, things went along beautifully. Her success rate was approximately seventy-three percent so far. Not everyone completed and mailed back the postcards she sent out after the initial date had taken place. But judging from the postcards that had been returned, her service and her instincts were a rousing success.
Rosemary had kept all the letters of gratitude written to her and had even been invited to three weddings. It reinforced her faith in her own shrewd abilities.
She pursed her lips, studying the form again. It had been filled out by Tommy’s mother, the boy whose letter she had liked so much. If she didn’t know any better, Rosemary would have sworn that she had been the one who had answered the questions. Tommy’s mother, Mary, had tastes and preferences that were identical to her own.
If she closed her eyes, she could hear Teri asking her if there wasn’t someone for her in that collection of would-be suitors she had filed away behind her. Matching Mary Smith—oh, God, was there really someone out there with such a phony-sounding name?—up with someone would almost be like matching herself up. If the match worked, it would be like living out a fantasy or having a vicarious experience.
All the gain and none of the pain, she thought, tapping short, rounded nails on her desk as she stared at the application.
Of course, the woman really wasn’t her and she wouldn’t be along on the date, so she’d have no way of knowing firsthand how things went. Still, it might be fun, just for the moment, to pretend that this was her own form she had in her hand.
Just who would she want to go out with?
Rosemary leaned back in her chair, rolling the idea over in her mind. If she could chose anyone, not just one of the men in the forms that were so neatly filed in the cabinet behind her, who would she really like to go out with?
Who out of the available men in her sphere….
“Atta girl, Rocky. Good girl.”
Rosemary started. The deep male voice abruptly broke her concentration, taking her out of misty isles and bringing her back to her sunlit kitchen. She heard the deep rumble of male laughter. It was coming from her backyard.
Who…
The next moment she realized that the voice belonged to Chris. Tilting her chair back on its hind legs, she could just make him out. He was squatting down in her yard, patiently working with Rocky. Danny hovered in attendance, shifting from side to side, trying to help, trying to learn. Eager to join in and be useful.
Rosemary righted her chair. Danny must have coerced Chris into coming over again, sneaking out to his yard via the side gate. That made four times in as many days that Chris had been over. Rosemary felt guilty. The man had a life of his own.
Usually with some tiny-waisted, large-chested model type, she thought. Over the past few months she’d seen several different women at his side, either coming or going from the house. There were rarely repeaters.
Not that it was any of her business, Rosemary told herself.
Tired, drawn by the laughter of both her son and the man who had befriended him, she rose and drifted over toward the screened sliding back door. She needed a little break. She’d been at this all morning.
Chris was hunkered down on the lawn, trying to get Rocky to lay down flat on command. Rosemary watched, a smile forming. She bet he didn’t have any trouble getting his dates to do that.
Rosemary leaned a shoulder against the inside of the doorjamb, eyeing Chris appreciatively. That man could hunker down better than anyone she’d ever seen. His jeans, well-worn and faded, were molded to a very firm posterior.
His glistening body, incredibly muscular and temptingly naked, flashed through her mind. Every fiber within her frame tightened like a clenched fist.
No, she realized, more like a spring waiting for release.
Her spring hadn’t been released in a long, long time. So long, she thought, watching him lean over and straighten Rocky’s paws, that it was probably completely rusted by now.
Rosemary shook her head, curtailing the thought before it could develop any further. She was fine, just fine. This wasn’t the era of free love, or the “me” generation. This was the decade of restraint, of waiting unt
il you found the right one before you warmed any sheets.
Unconsciously, she fanned herself, feeling unaccountably warm.
Rosemary sighed as she dragged her hand through her hair. Maybe she did need to get out more, to a gym or someplace like that. A little exercise would do the trick. That’s what she’d do, enroll in a gym, get rid of this pent-up energy that was building within.
After this Mother’s Day thing was resolved.
Enough procrastination, she thought, forcing herself back to her desk.
Sitting, she glanced at the form again. It was the only one she had left to deal with. She had already reviewed all the other winners’ forms, matched them with suitable dates and then sent them off. After initially perusing the form, she had purposely saved this one for last, treating it the way she’d treated her meals as a child. Saving the best for last as a reward.
Out of the corner of her eye Rosemary saw Chris rise to his feet. He dusted off his hands, carelessly brushing them on the rear of his jeans.
Him, she thought suddenly, the idea occurring to her like a revelation. If she were in the market for a man, if she were Mary Smith, she’d choose him. Christopher Maverick. He was good-looking, patient… And Teri was right. His laugh did make you feel as if warm rainwater was falling on your skin.
God, she needed a cold shower.
“Okay, Mary Smith,” she murmured to the form on her desk, “if that is your real name, I am about to do you a tremendous favor.”
The only problem that remained now was getting Chris to agree to this. She could ask him outright to participate in the contest. After all, his radio program was already involved and he had been the one to plug the contest on the air.
Rosemary rocked in her chair, seriously toying with the approach. He might go for it. She already knew that he was easygoing and game. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now, spending a Saturday afternoon with his neighbor’s son.
She knew for a fact that he was unattached. The steady stream of different women he squired attested to that. What was another one more or less?
What was she thinking? Rosemary upbraided herself. This wasn’t a ‘more or less’ situation. Though she was doing it for publicity, the end result wasn’t a publicity stunt, she reminded herself. She was after genuine matches for these ten single women, just as she was for all the people who filled out applications with Soulmates, Inc.
Chris wouldn’t be interested in having himself set up with someone who ultimately wanted a lasting relationship. She was sure it just wouldn’t work out.
Still, she thought as she chewed thoughtfully on her pencil, Mary Smith’s answers were so close to ones that she would have given, they were eerie. On top of that, they matched the few things she knew about Chris Maverick.
Maybe…
He laughed again at something Danny said to him and she felt a flutter pass over her. Warm, like the touch of a lover’s hand.
Oh, what the hell? What did she have to lose by asking? She had already come to the conclusion that she wasn’t satisfied matching Mary up with any of the unattached men in her existing files. The deadline was almost here. She had to set this up and get things going before she was out of time. Mother’s Day was in a week.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Shoving her hands into the back pockets of her white cut-off denim shorts, Rosemary walked out into the backyard like Galahad set on winning the Holy Grail—if Galahad had been five-two and wearing a lime green tank top instead of a coat of heavy iron.
Chris, his arms wrapped around sheer puppy energy, glanced in her direction as he heard the screen door creak open. He almost squeezed Rocky a little too hard before setting her down again. For a short woman, Rosemary Gallagher had the longest legs he’d ever seen. The frayed shorts she wore seemed to make them look even longer. Sleeker.
He felt his appetite whetting.
Even so, he wasn’t the type of man to push. Ever. He had already set out feelers around her once and she had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in him that way. He supposed that there was a good side to that. It would have been awkward living next door to her after the relationship ended.
And it would end. They all did. Chris was too much of a realist to think that enduring marriages like the one his parents had actually existed in this day and age. None of the relationships he’d ever had gave any indication of lasting beyond a short stretch of time. And they never did.
Everything was disposable and transient these days. From disposable diapers to meals in a minute, everything was used and discarded. The same seemed to be true of marriages. Several of his friends had gotten married and had been divorced within a few years of the ceremony. One marriage had lasted only six months before it dissolved like a cheap paper towel trying to mop up a huge spill.
That route wasn’t for him.
Still, he mused as he watched Rosemary approach him, if he ever found that one old-fashioned girl who was still out there—or old-fashioned woman, Chris amended silently—he might be tempted to give a lasting relationship one hell of a shot.
“I didn’t realize that you were here,” Rosemary began, testing the waters slowly. He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. She’d never realized what a sexy gesture that was.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just barge in, but Danny—”
She shook her head, cutting his apology short. “I was just about to apologize to you for Danny roping you into this.” Rosemary nodded at Rocky.
“Mom,” Danny protested. “I didn’t rope him. He wanted to help.”
“That’s right,” Chris agreed. “There was no roping involved.” His smile was engaging and so sensual Rosemary dug her fingernails into her palms. “I told you before, I like this.”
He grinned at Danny. Rocky was nipping at his boots but he seemed oblivious to it. “It reminds me of when I was a kid.” He looked around the postagestamp-size enclosed lot, remembering the one without boundaries where he had run free. “There were always dogs all over the place.” His eyes shifted to Rosemary. “I’m too busy these days to keep a dog of my own, so I thought I might just adopt Rocky part-time. If you didn’t mind?”
Rocky was still busy licking Chris’s boots, turning them a darker brown, and wiggling her bottom.
Rosemary laughed. “I don’t mind, and it’s easy to see that Rocky doesn’t.” She watched as Rocky’s tail waved eagerly. “You always have this effect on females?”
He liked the way she laughed. Her eyes crinkled and the sound was soft and sultry. “They don’t generally piddle at my feet,” he remarked, discreetly leaving the question unanswered.
Chris covertly transferred the dog treats he had in his back pocket to Danny. The boy took them eagerly, waiting for instruction. “Show your mother what Rocky’s learned.”
Danny’s head bobbed up and down. “Hey, yeah, watch this, Mom.”
“Why don’t you stand over here?” Chris suggested. Placing his hands on her hips, he physically moved her next to him. The feel of his hands didn’t exactly help her maintain a tight grip on that rusted spring of hers, she thought ruefully.
Trying to focus on what Danny was doing, Rosemary watched the unruly puppy actually come when she was called, sit up and then lie down. Danny insisted on performing each trick twice. It was hard to tell who was more eager, Danny or the puppy.
Rosemary applauded dutifully at the end of the miniperformance.
“Very impressive.” She turned toward Chris. “Now if you could just get her to stop using the house as one big bathroom—”
She saw that her words sparked something within his memory. He took her hand. “That reminds me, I brought you something.”
If anything, she would have expected him to bring something for Danny. “Me?”
He laughed, clearing his throat. “Well, it’s for Rocky, really. But in a roundabout way, it is actually for you.”
He had her intrigued. “Okay, I’ll bite. No pun intended, Rocky,” she said, glancing at the dog. “Wha
t did you bring for Rocky that I can use, too?”
“It’s more for your peace of mind.” Chris laughed as confusion deepened on her face. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”
Still holding her hand, he led her through the open side gate into his own backyard. The screen door was still standing open and he walked into the house. Danny brought up the rear with Rocky trotting adoringly behind all of them.
Rosemary had just managed to curve her hand in his when he dropped it and gestured toward the large, flat box leaning against the black-and-gray sofa in his family room. “I picked this up on my way home this afternoon. I was doing a benefit show in the mall.”
She looked from the box to Chris. “You brought her a box?” Rocky had already made confetti out of two oatmeal boxes, an empty doggie treat box and one shoe box—with shoes. “It’s big, but it’s not entirely unique.”
“No.” Taking her hand again, he led her to the front of the box. There was a drawing of a puppy sitting within a large wire cage. The puppy was smiling. “I brought her a puppy cage.” He tapped the drawing. “This way, she’s not all over the house while Danny’s in school.”
It was as if the sun had suddenly come out. Rosemary looked at the drawing in fascination. In the past week she’d spent most of her time following a dog around that seemed to be all teeth, intent on sampling everything within the house at least twice.
She looked at Chris. “Are you applying for sainthood?”
“The form’s already signed and in the mail.” The grin on his lips didn’t belong to any saint, living or dead. It was guaranteed to raise temperatures ten to fifteen degrees if she was any judge.
Rosemary tried not to notice how much his smile melted every solid thing in her. It was a fruitless attempt. She wondered if Mary Smith would name her first child after her.
“Speaking of forms…” Rosemary began tentatively. “I was wondering—”
“Hey, Chris,” Danny broke in. “I got her to jump up.” He held up his hand, freshly denuded of the treat he had been holding to tempt Rocky to follow through. Rocky jumped a second time on command, hoping for another reward. A whimper followed when there was none.
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