Roswell lunged for the door as it clicked shut. He placed his paws on the door and began to bark. Loudly.
“Roswell, no!” Erin grabbed the leash. “Sarah, help me!” She glanced over her shoulder, aware for the first time that Sarah was no longer standing by her side, but hovering in the doorway of her bedroom.
Sarah’s eyes were wide with terror and she shook her head. “Please get it out of here,” she pleaded. “Right now.”
“What’s wrong?” Erin demanded, coming ever closer to genuine panic.
“Dogs ... I can’t ... ” Sarah’s breath was coming in short gasps. “I-I can’t ... ”
“You’re scared of dogs?” Erin asked in disbelief. Following his cue in this absurdity, Roswell dropped to the ground and began barking at them.
Sarah squealed and leaped into her bedroom, slamming the door shut. “Get it out of here, please?” her voice was muffled.
“Just ... give me a second, okay?” Erin took a deep breath and tried to stay calm.
“Hurry!” Sarah sounded like she was crying.
There was no time for the suitcase. Erin raced to the fridge and found a package of sliced lunchmeat. She peeled a slice of chicken breast from the top and extended it toward Roswell. “Roswell, treat?” she pleaded.
The dog stopped barking, then cocked his head and studied her. After a tense moment, he padded over and reached for the meat. Erin gave a little squeal when she saw the teeth and let the chicken drop to the floor, where Roswell eagerly gobbled it up.
“Okay, you like chicken,” Erin muttered. “That’s a start.” She set another piece on the floor and while Roswell wolfed it down, she grabbed his leash and tied it to a chair. “I’m getting my shoes,” she hollered loud enough for Sarah to hear. “Then I’ll take him away.”
The only response was Roswell’s whining for another piece of lunchmeat.
Erin left the whole stack for him and raced to her room for her shoes, all the while cursing herself for being so impulsive. She should have asked more questions, she definitely should have checked with Sarah first. But it was only supposed to be dropping by a couple of times a day. With a jolt, she realized she didn’t even know how long Mrs. Brinkerhoff would be gone.
Stupid! As usual.
There was only one thing to do. After slipping on a pair of sneakers, she untied Roswell and dragged both dog and suitcase down the hall to Matt’s.
He opened the door, took one look at them, and burst out laughing. “Let me guess, this is your definition of easy?”
“Please, please, please let him stay here,” Erin begged. “Sarah’s scared of dogs. I had no idea.”
“What happened to popping in once in a while and maaaaybe a walk or two?”
“Um ...”
He sighed and shook his head. “Never mind, I can imagine. Come in.”
Erin dragged Roswell into Matt’s apartment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You could take him to a kennel.”
“I can’t! Mrs. Brinkerhoff would have a fit if she knew he was locked in a cage all day. Plus, she said he gets anxious if he’s left alone too long. He wouldn’t do well at a kennel.” She winced. “I really hate to ask, but can he stay here? Please? I promise I’ll do all the work. I’ll come over whenever I can and make sure to feed him and walk him and—”
“And pet him and love him and rock him to sleep.” Matt sing-songed, his easy smile taking the bite out of the words. “How about you don’t make any wild promises you might not be able to keep?”
“Maybe Mrs. Brinkerhoff left her apartment keys.” Erin perked up at the new thought. “I can stay there with him.” She unzipped the suitcase and dug through it while Roswell came to her elbow and sniffed at the contents eagerly. The search revealed many cans of dog food, two blankets, dozens of toys, several bags of treats, and a sheaf of papers with instructions written in Mrs. Brinkerhoff’s shaky hand.
“No keys,” Erin nervously rolled the papers into a tube and turned pleading eyes to Matt.
Matt sighed. He’d stayed quiet during the excavation of the suitcase, but his resigned look told her he’d known all along it would come to this. “It’s not sleeping in my bed,” he said, casting a resigned eye on Roswell, who had pinned a bag of treats under one paw and was scratching at it with the other, trying to find a way in.
Erin heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. I really am sorry. I didn’t even think to ask; I should have clarified with her.”
“Well, don’t forget, you promised to help.”
“I won’t. Promise!”
Roswell gave a giant burp and threw up partially digested lunchmeat all over the wood floor.
Matt wrinkled his nose. “You can start by helping with that,” he told Erin.
**
Chapter 12
Matt sat up in bed and glanced at his clock; it was almost one in the morning. For a moment he lay still, wondering what had woken him. Then he heard the whimpering, followed by the sound of scratching claws.
Roswell.
He groaned and threw back the covers.
Roswell stood on his back legs, resting his front paws on the front door. He turned when Matt entered the room to give him a mournful look, then resumed whining and scratching. The brown paint on the door already showed several fresh scratches.
“Stop it,” Matt ordered. “Go to bed.”
Roswell tucked his tail between his legs and continued to whimper and scratch.
“You know, there is such a thing as a security deposit,” Matt snapped, glaring at the damage to the door. He found the leash and clipped it to Roswell’s collar, then dragged him back to the bed he’d made in the corner using the blankets from Mrs. Brinkerhoff’s suitcase. Matt tied the leash around the leg of the sofa, making sure he left plenty of slack.
“Lie down,” he ordered, pointing at the bed.
But Roswell just stood staring at him dejectedly.
“She’s coming back,” Matt told him. “She’ll be back, and I promise, it won’t be soon enough for me.”
Roswell stood there.
“Fine, suit yourself,” Matt shrugged. “Only be quiet, okay?” He went back to his room, shut the door, and climbed under the covers. He waited for sleep, only it wouldn’t come.
From the living room came the sound of more whining.
He’ll be fine. He’s got plenty of leash; he’ll eventually get tired and go to sleep.
Only ... what if he strangles himself? Images of Roswell wrapping himself up tighter and tighter in the leash invaded Matt’s imagination until finally, with a muttered curse, he kicked the covers off again and went back to the living room.
Roswell hadn’t moved. He looked up and managed a brief tail wag at Matt.
“Lie down,” Matt ordered, more forcefully this time. “It’s time to sleep.”
The dog still didn’t move.
“Thanks a lot Erin,” Matt growled under his breath. He was halfway tempted to drag the dumb dog down the hall and bang on her door. Let her deal with this. But that would only cause problems for Sarah.
“Bed! Sleep!” he ordered.
Roswell answered with a small whine.
Sighing, Matt unhooked the leash from the couch. He dragged the dog and the blankets into his bedroom, plopping them in the corner.
“Fine, sleep there,” he grumbled, unhooking the leash from Roswell’s collar.
Roswell gave him a satisfied grunt and flopped down on the blankets.
Grumbling all the way, Matt returned to his own bed. He was about the drift off when ...
Lick.
He jerked awake. Roswell’s white fur gleamed in the streetlight filtering through the blinds as he stood by the bed. They were practically eye-to-eye.
“What do you want?” Matt moaned.
Roswell licked him again.
Matt rolled over with a thump, turning his back on Roswell. “Go away,” he ordered.
He could hear the dog pacing around the room
, his toenails clicking on the wood floor.
Matt closed his eyes. The dumb dog could wander for the rest of the night, he didn’t care.
He realized the clicking toenails had stopped an instant before ...
“Oof!” Something heavy and furry slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.
Roswell stood on the bed, or rather on Matt, one paw pressing painfully into his stomach. “Get off,” Matt gasped, shoving at the dog’s leg.
Roswell moved, but only to begin sniffing the blankets.
“No,” Matt said. “No, no, no!”
But Roswell had apparently found a spot he liked. He flopped down with a grunt and put his head on his paws. His big blue eyes shone in the dim light.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Matt muttered. Erin was going to pay for this. He’d text her every thirty seconds until she replied. If he wasn’t going to sleep tonight, neither would she.
But before he could reach for his phone, Roswell leaped off the bed and began whining at the door. Somehow, Matt knew this was his bathroom whine.
Matt growled in frustration and threw back the blankets. He rummaged around the floor for his shoes, sighing. So much for sleep.
**
Chapter 13
Matt was waiting outside the theater when Erin finished rehearsal on Tuesday night. She’d already changed into a pair of yoga pants and athletic shoes ... though maybe it was what she usually wore to rehearsal, he didn’t really know.
“Are you hungry? We can stop and eat first,” he offered as he held the car door for her.
Erin shook her head. “I had an energy bar about an hour ago. Besides, isn’t it a bad idea to eat right before you exercise?”
“Usually,” Matt grinned. “But it’s not like we’re going to be overexerting ourselves much tonight.”
“Speak for yourself,” Erin said, a mischievous gleam growing in her eyes. “I’m going to be a freaking rock star.”
She laughed about the pun the whole way to the rock climbing gym. Her weakness for puns was one of the things he loved about her.
At the gym, they met Rand, their climbing instructor. He was very tall and skinny with ropy muscles and a bushy red beard.
“Have either of you been climbing before?” he asked.
Matt and Erin shook their heads.
Rand pointed to the forty foot wall behind him, studded with hand and footholds. “We’ll use the green route,” he said, his hand following the zigzag pattern the green holds made to the ceiling. “Most of the holds are jugs and slopers, but there are a few crimps just to give you a feel for it.”
“Jugs and what?” Erin asked.
“Slopers and crimps,” Rand said again. “Different sizes of holds. Jugs are the biggest, and easiest, crimps are the smallest and most challenging.”
He showed them how to balance their weight and use their leg muscles to move up the wall instead of pulling with their arms. Then they tried a few practice climbs, only venturing a few feet above the padded floor. When Rand was satisfied with their progress, he moved on to the harnesses.
“Oh, this is super attractive.” Erin laughed as she fastened the climbing harness around her hips and shot a glance at Matt.
Matt felt a stab of hope—she was worried about looking attractive in front of him. “You’re the one who picked climbing from my spreadsheet,” he said, going for nonchalant. Erin in workout clothes always made his heart skip and she looked very cute tonight with her tight black pants and carnation-pink tank top, her hair pulled into a high ponytail that swung against her neck whenever she moved her head.
“I forgot you had to wear harnesses.” She made a face.
Rand showed them how to hold the ropes so whoever was climbing had enough slack to move, but not enough to hit the ground in a fall. Then they took turns practicing.
“C’mon, you can do it!” Erin yelled when Matt paused at a tricky spot more than halfway up the wall.
A bell rang and Matt glanced up in time to see a kid, probably not more than twelve, posing for a selfie at the top of the advanced wall, which was a warren of colored crimps and slopers. Actually, it could hardly even be called a wall, since it had an overhang taller than the kid.
Matt grunted and shifted his weight, silently cursing himself for including climbing on the list at all. This is what I get for trying to be a show-off.
“Are you okay?” Erin called to him.
His calves were on fire; he’d pay for this tomorrow. “Fine,” he called back. “Just ...” He winced as he stretched his right leg to reach the next foothold. “... busy pulling muscles.”
The sound of her laughter made it all worthwhile.
On her turn, Erin stuck to the beginner course until she was about fifteen feet up. “Can I switch to the yellow ones now?” she called down to Rand.
“Sure, if you think you can handle it,” Rand replied. It was obvious that Rand also appreciated the sight of Erin in workout clothes and Matt didn’t like it. He made a mental note to dock his tip—a little bit.
“Be careful!” he called, then immediately felt like a killjoy. Like a fussy old lady who wouldn’t let you slide down the stairs or walk along the top rail of a fence because she was afraid you’d get hurt.
Erin did pretty well for a few more feet, then stopped. The yellow course must be harder than it looked.
“Do you want to switch back to green?” Matt said.
She shook her head. “I can do it.”
But she couldn’t. A few more feet and her head drooped. “I’m stuck,” she admitted. Matt could see her leg muscles spasming as she balanced on her tiptoes on a narrow sloper.
“There’s a green jug to your left,” Rand called. “If you stretch your leg, you can reach it.”
Erin tried, but Matt could see how exhausted she was.
“Do you want to come down?” he asked.
Erin nodded.
“Just let go,” Matt prompted, his hands tightening on the belay rope.
“Maybe I should—” Rand began, reaching for the rope.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” Matt said quickly. “Let go, Erin,” he urged again. “I’ve got you.”
He planted his feet as she pushed away from the wall. The rope slid smoothly through his hands as he brought her safely down.
“Sorry,” she said when she reached the bottom. “I guess I’m not quite as tough as I thought.”
“You did really well for your first time,” Rand assured her.
“Thanks,” Erin said, but she was looking at Matt and he knew she was thanking him, not Rand. Thanking him for being there, ready to catch her if something went wrong. His heart warmed.
“That was really fun!” Erin said later as they walked across the parking lot to the car. “Tiring, but fun.”
“I’d do it again,” Matt said.
“Me too. When can we come back?” she said eagerly.
He paused. “Really? You liked it that much?”
“Well, yeah,” she said. “It’s fun spending time with you.”
His pulse began to pound and he stopped to face her. “So which is it? The rock climbing or spending time with me?” he said softly.
It was the wrong thing to say. Her face fell and she took a step back. “It’s both. I like doing new things and I like hanging out with you. Why isn’t that okay?”
Hanging out. Hello, friend zone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he amended. “I like hanging out with you too.”
She bit her bottom lip anxiously. “So, we’re cool?”
Matt nodded, disappointment heavy in his chest.
Well, what did he expect to happen? He’d take her out once or twice on a real date and she’d suddenly become as crazy about him as he was about her?
“Yes, that’s exactly what I thought,” he confessed to Roswell after he’d dropped Erin off at her apartment and taken the dog for his walk. It had been on the tip of his tongue to remind her that she’d promised to help with
the dog, but he didn’t. He needed some time to think and he’d found talking to Roswell to be surprisingly therapeutic.
“I thought my spreadsheet would impress her,” he told Roswell “Like she’d go—‘Hey, Matt is so awesome with his art and his rock climbing and his spreadsheet. I should totally reconsider this dumb idea I have that we can’t be more than friends.’”
Roswell paid no attention. He sniffed around the park looking for a place to do his business. Matt shivered; it was past late and the temperature was dropping fast.
“You’re totally right, I’m an idiot,” Matt said.
The dog lifted his leg, seemed to think better of it, and moved on.
“It’s grass,” Matt burst out. “There’s grass here, grass there, and look—” He pointed. “Tree, bush, bush, tree. You’re not creating high art, just get on with it.”
Roswell ignored him.
**
Chapter 14
Erin threw her arms over her head and stretched. Her muscles were sore from rock climbing and sitting still for so long wasn’t helping.
“Think they’re about done?” she whispered to Sasha and Jocelyn, throwing a glance at the director’s table, where Mona was involved in a heated conversation with Jacob.
“I doubt it. What a diva,” Sasha grumbled, giving Jacob a dark look.
“It is pretty close to opening,” Erin pointed out.
“Yeah, and we’re all dealing with the same pressure,” Sasha replied. “You have a bigger part than Jacob and you’re not having a meltdown every other second.”
Erin got to her feet. “I’m going to run across the street for hot chocolate. You want anything?”
The line at the coffee shop took forever. She scuffed the toe of her shoe along the tile floor as she waited, her mind returning, automatically it seemed, to Matt.
He was getting pushier. How many more times would he let her avoid talking about their relationship? He was demanding an answer and she didn’t have one—at least not one that made sense.
She always claimed they didn’t have any chemistry. So what was that urge she’d felt in the theater to bury her face in his neck? Hormones? He was a good-looking guy, in a boy-next-door kind of way, with his blond hair and blue eyes. He was fit and muscular in all the right places. He made her laugh and he was her best friend. Plus, they’d spent the day together bonding. Wasn’t the urge to get closer physically a natural reaction?
The Passionate One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 6