“No. Even Loretta, who knows everyone in town, told me the closest she’s ever come to him was a couple years ago when his butler called the shop to place an order. What about you?”
“Never. The guy’s been the town recluse ever since I came to Chandler’s Cove right out of veterinary school and opened my practice.”
“He doesn’t bring in Charlie for appointments?”
“No. The butler again.”
Mia frowned. “Charlie must get awfully lonely in that big house with nothing but a crusty old servant and a recluse for company. I guess that explains why he was always running loose when he got the chance—and why Gabby said the servants were thrilled when Mr. B. asked her to dog-sit while he was out of the country.”
“If I suspected abuse or neglect, I would report it. But as you can see, the dog is in good health. He’s also well socialized and takes to a leash. Someone’s worked with him, trained him. It doesn’t hurt that he’s smart as a whip.” Gid cast the dog a look. “Well, even if he doesn’t have the enough sense not to eat a bra.” Charlie barked in response.
The finished up their meal, engaging mainly in small talk. Even so, the time passed quickly. It was with regret that Gid glanced at his watch.
“I’d better shove off. I want to go home and take a shower before heading back to the clinic.”
“You can take one here.” From the look on her face, it was clear her offer surprised them both. “I mean, if you want. It would save you time.”
In terms of practicality, she was right, but that wasn’t why he nodded. He didn’t want to leave yet.
Mia’s house was built in the 1920s and while a number of renovations had been done to the quaint cottage over the years, the bathroom still sported the original pink and black tile work. She claimed that the period detail added character. She’d teased him once that men who were secure in their masculinity could handle the color, but when she handed him a pink towel just then, secure or not, Gid felt foolish.
Her wry smile told him she knew it.
“I think there’s some of your shampoo under the sink. And a razor and shaving cream.”
“You kept them?” he asked, a little surprised. Of course, he still had miscellaneous items of hers at his house, too.
“I…it seemed a waste to throw them out.”
“I don’t suppose I left any boxers behind?”
“Not that either I or Charlie has found.”
He shrugged. “Guess I can go commando.”
He’d been half teasing but was pleased to see her eyes widen a fraction of an inch. Interest. Need. Desire. One after the other, the emotions flashed there, emboldening him enough to close the distance between them. He dropped the towel, cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers.
The kiss lasted maybe thirty seconds, a slow plunder that did nothing to take the edge off his mood. He waited for her to pull back, to step away and remind him their relationship was over. Instead she helped him out of his T-shirt.
They didn’t speak, which was just as well. He didn’t want to know what was going through her mind just then. For that matter, he refused to heed the warning that was blaring siren-like in his own. Instead, he relieved Mia of her blouse, taking the buttons slowly before peeling the two sides open as if he was unwrapping the last gift of Christmas. Since it was a good bet this would be the last chance he ever got to make love to her, he was going to savor it.
The bra she wore was white cotton and fastened in the front. He found it every bit as sexy as the black lace one the dog had eaten. He nuzzled the soft flesh that mounded ever so slightly from the unadorned cups, before undoing the clasp and brushing her nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Her breasts might be small, but they were beautiful and, best of all, sensitive.
Her moan was all the encouragement he needed to follow up with his tongue. Her head fell backward. Her hands fisted in his hair. Her breathing turned to ragged panting. Gid knew what she liked. That was the advantage of having been lovers. He knew which places to kiss, which to caress, just where to run his tongue to elicit the most pleasure.
He might have wanted to go slow. Mia, however, had other ideas. She reached between them and unbuttoned his shorts. An instant later, he felt the zipper give way and then she was pushing the shorts down his hips, followed by his boxers. He did the same to her shorts and panties. Then, hands on her bottom, he pulled her against his erection and kissed her again.
“Bedroom?” she managed to ask.
He grunted his ascent.
The dog was waiting in the hallway. Gid swore Charlie was grinning. When he tried to follow them into the bedroom, Gid blocked the way.
“Sorry, pal. Find something else to entertain yourself for the next half hour or so.”
Gid closed the door and turned to find Mia reclining on the bed. She looked gorgeous, a feast for a man who had been starving for months.
“Half hour?” Mia asked, one eyebrow cocked.
“Or so,” he repeated, coming to join her.
…
Mia and Gid both wound up being late for work. Since she was the one expected to open the shop, she had no one to answer to. Except herself and on matters that had nothing to do with punctuality.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she told Charlie as she began work on a hand-tied bouquet of Stephanotis.
The blooms were as expensive as they were fragile. They were for a wedding the following day. He continued to stare at her anyway, and she swore his expression was just shy of damning.
“It doesn’t change anything,” she went on. “And Gid knows that.”
His exit after they’d made love told her so. He’d made no declarations, no promises. All he’d said was, “I really have to leave now.”
Then he’d levered off the mattress to find his clothes. The offer of a shower that had started everything was forgotten. Once he was dressed, he came back to the bed, kissed Mia on the forehead, and left.
She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that, despite her claims to the contrary to Charlie.
Would Gid call? The question crept past her defenses. Her hand tightened on the bouquet.
“He doesn’t need to call,” she muttered aloud. “I don’t give a damn if he calls. In fact, it would be best if he doesn’t.”
Charlie settled his head on his front paws, his expression unchanged.
“It was just sex,” she told the dog.
But then Mia swallowed and her eyes blurred. When her vision cleared, she knew the delicate Stephanotis wasn’t the only thing bruised.
Chapter Five
A week passed and Mia didn’t see Gid. Nor did she hear from him. But his scent lingered on her pillowcase and she couldn’t fall asleep for wanting him.
The scent would fade and these feelings would pass, she told herself. She would get used to being without him again, just as she had after their breakup. Really, he was doing her a favor by staying away. Which was why it made no sense at all that she scheduled an appointment for Charlie on the very day that Marney and Dell were due back from their honeymoon. As mortifying as it was to admit, the dog gave her the perfect excuse to see Gid.
When he walked into the exam room, he was all business. No intimate glances, no fleeting caresses. After offering a polite smile and the standard greeting, he said, “So, what brings you and Charlie here today? He hasn’t eaten any more undergarments, I hope.”
“No.” Her laughter was strained, laced with nerves. She could only hope Gid hadn’t noticed. “But he seems a little less, well, hyper than usual. Do you think anything could still be in his system?”
Gid studied her a moment before giving the dog his full attention. “Has he been going to the bathroom on a regular basis?”
“Yes.”
“Any more vomiting?”
“No.”
“How has his appetite been?”
“Good. The same as before, I guess.”
Gid palpated the dog’s stomach, after which he gave Cha
rlie a playful rubdown and declared, “Everything feels normal. I don’t detect any hard spots in his abdomen. I really don’t think there’s any need for another X-ray at this point since he’s eating and voiding as usual.”
“Oh, okay. I just wanted to be sure.”
Finally, Gid met her eye again. “Playing it safe?” he asked, leaving her to wonder if he meant with the dog or with him. When she said nothing, he asked, “So, when are Marney and Dell due back?”
“This afternoon. The house is going to be quiet tonight,” she remarked before she could think better of it.
“Are you going to miss him?”
“I am.”
“Nothing worse than a quiet house.”
She nodded, not sure of the proper response.
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat. “I’m here till seven tonight finishing up some paperwork. I could stop by Luigi’s and bring you a pizza on my way home from the clinic,” he said.
She swallowed. “You would do that?”
“I would.”
“Thin crust?”
“If that’s what you prefer.”
Gid, a born and raised Chicagoan, naturally was a deep dish guy when it came to his pizza. Thin crust was for New Yorkers, or so he’d claimed the first time Mia had ordered it while they were on a date.
“You’ve always been so good at compromising,” she murmured. And wasn’t that true? Her heart squeezed.
“Thin crust.” He shrugged. “It’s a small sacrifice to make.”
Yes, but they both knew he’d been willing to make much bigger ones where Mia was concerned. California. A dream job at a state-of-the-art facility attached to one of the most renowned schools of veterinary medicine in the country. And a position on its faculty.
Gid’s eyes had lit with excitement when he’d told her the details of the job offer the previous summer, even if he’d tried to feign indifference when she’d asked if he was going to take it.
“Nah. It’s nice to be asked, but I’ve got everything I want right here.” He’d pulled her close, kissed her breathless.
He’d been willing to stay in the small Midwestern town where Mia had made friends who were her only family and had begun to sink down roots for the first time in her life. He’d never wavered in his decision until after she’d broken off their relationship. She’d been the one with all of the doubts.
Her heart squeezed again, this time painfully. “You know, deep dish sounds good to me.”
He blinked in surprise. “Since when?”
She lifted her shoulders. She had no rationale to offer. Compromise didn’t come as easily for her as it did for him. Her smile trembled.
“It just does.”
…
“Something’s different about you,” Marney declared the moment she walked through the cottage’s door.
“I’m wearing makeup,” Mia deadpanned.
“So, I see. But that’s not it.” Marney tossed her dark curls over her shoulder and tapped her lips. “You look…happy.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Seriously. There’s a twinkle back in your eyes, almost like you…Oh, my God!”
Mia turned away, but Marney wasn’t letting her off the hook.
“You had sex.”
Charlie barked, as if responding to Marney’s statement.
Rather than deny it, Mia said, “I am allowed, you know.”
“With Gid,” Marney announced smugly.
“How do you know it was with Gid? The flower shop has a hot new delivery guy. I could be doing it with him.”
“Are you?”
Mia huffed out a sigh. “Okay, it was Gid. So?”
“Details. I want details,” Marney said, setting her purse aside and taking a seat on the couch. “Are you back together?”
“Not exactly.”
“Do you want to be back together?”
Mia swallowed. “I want things to be the way they were…before.”
“Relationships evolve, honey. Consider how Dell and I got started.”
Hadn’t Gid said that very same thing?
“I don’t like change,” she said quietly and settled on to the cushion next to her friend.
“Change doesn’t have to be bad. I never thought I would find someone like Dell. And Gabby can attest that love is worth the risk.”
“Gid took the job in California. His house is on the market, and so is his clinic. He’s leaving Chandler’s Cove.”
“I know.” Marney took Mia’s hand in both of hers. The diamond ring on the left one caught the light and seemed to emphasize her friend’s words when she added, “But he’s not leaving you, honey. There’s a difference. Gid would stay if you wanted him to. That man would do anything for you. He loves you.”
Mia swallowed. She didn’t feel sick or panicked, which she supposed a therapist would say was a step in the right direction. But she was a long way from feeling comfortable with the idea of commitment and capable of the kind of trust it entailed. Would she ever?
“What can I do?” she asked.
“That’s for you to decide, but I will give you this bit of advice—don’t listen to your head. Listen to your heart.”
Marney left not long after that. Charlie stayed.
“I think Dell and I could use a few more days alone, if you don’t mind?”
“You’re transparent, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Marnie replied, eyes wide with innocence.
“You think the dog might give me a good reason to go and see Gid.”
“That’s merely a bonus. I just want time alone with my man.”
…
What was he getting himself into? Gid was still asking himself that question when he parked in the driveway behind Mia’s car and carried the pizza box up to the front door.
A flurry of excited barking followed his knock. Mia opened the door with Charlie in her arms and a sheepish smile on her face.
“Marney and Dell didn’t get back?” Gid asked.
“Actually, they did, but Marney asked me to keep the dog for a little longer.”
“Ah,” he said when Mia’s gaze darted away. “The honeymoon continues, I take it.”
“Apparently. Come on in. Want a beer?” she asked as they made their way to the kitchen.
“That sounds good.”
“I thought we could eat on the back patio, if that’s okay? It’s so nice out this evening.”
Something seemed different about her. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what.
“Sure,” he said.
Mia set down the dog and grabbed plates, napkins, utensils, and two long-necked bottles of beer before heading out the back door. Her yard was fenced in white pickets and surprisingly large given how small the house was. Charlie dashed around like a lunatic, lifting his leg on a lilac bush and two other shrubs before returning to the patio. His nails clicked on the red brick pavers that were edged in moss, the sound an appropriate accompaniment to birds chirping and the swelling buzz of cicadas.
It would be a couple of hours yet before the sun set. In the meantime, its rays filtered though the leaves of an enormous oak tree that kept the yard mostly shaded. They sat at the wrought iron bistro set that he recalled Mia telling him she’d received from her friends as a housewarming present.
When he opened the lid on the box, she smiled.
“Half deep dish and half thin crust. Another compromise,” she murmured.
“Not really. The thin crust is for me. I’ve become a convert,” he admitted, and then narrowed his eyes. “Of course, if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”
“Of course.”
He reached for a slice of thin crust. She took deep dish. When he glanced up, she smiled. “I have a confession to make. I sort of like deep dish.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not real pizza, mind you. You don’t need a knife and a fork for real pizza. But it’s good in its own way.”
He nodded. “I c
an accept that.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Charlie rose on his hind legs and begged until Mia made a shooing motion.
“You know the rule. No people food. Go chase a squirrel or something,” she told him.
He plopped down on the pavers and whined instead.
“Your yard looks nice,” Gid told her. She had a way with plants, an eye for arranging them in the flowerbeds to highlight their beauty, which was no surprise given her profession. He pointed to a mound of dirt that broke the flow of pink and white blooms. “Well, except for that spot over there. Charlie?”
Mia nodded. “He uprooted half a flat of impatiens before I got him to stop.”
“Jack Russells are diggers by nature. They were bred to hunt and root foxes out of their dens.”
“Gee, now someone tells me,” she grumbled good-naturedly, and cut off a small piece of pizza. Before popping it in her mouth, she said, “Speaking of flowers, how did your mother like the roses?”
“She loved them. Of course, she would have preferred to have me there but…” He shrugged.
“I guess she’ll have to get used to you missing family gatherings.”
Gid frowned. He would have to get used to it as well. But he couldn’t stay here, so close to Mia, yet separated by a gulf too wide for even love to span. He’d go insane.
“I’ll fly in for holidays and such. And Mom is already talking about how nice it will be to visit me in sunny California when the weather turns inhospitable here.”
Gid’s mother may have lived in Chicago for more than three decades but she remained a Southern girl at heart. And she’d never acclimated to the weather.
Mia laughed. “I can just hear her saying that. Maybe she and your dad will move out to San Diego now that they’re both retired.”
“Nah. As much as she complains about the wind and cold, Chicago is home. Her roots are here.”
Mia nodded. “I can understand that.”
He took a bite of pizza, washed it down with a drink of beer, all the while considering the implications of the invitation he wanted to extend. “I’m having dinner with her and Dad tomorrow night to make up for missing the party. You could come. I know my mom would love to see you.”
The Billionaire's Matchmaker: An Indulgence Anthology (Entangled Indulgence) Page 15