That Dating Thing

by Crowne, Mackenzie

  “And you are beautiful.”

  Warmth flooded her body at his softly spoken compliment. The man would charm her out of her panties before she had the chance to blink. Well, she’d be losing them eventually, but they’d be establishing some boundaries before her underwear went anywhere.

  “For a time?” she asked.

  “Until one or both of us decides the time has come to walk away.”

  “And until that happens, we’re exclusive.” She frowned. “When I decide to sleep with a man, I don’t like to share.” Since she had slept with no man but Marcus, and being a cheater wasn’t one of his faults, she’d never given the need to demand exclusivity a thought. It bothered her that she did now.

  White teeth flashed when he grinned. His gaze roamed her body before he answered. “Believe me, Rylee, another woman is not going to be a problem.”

  Maybe not for him, but the man was a walking, talking, sexual fantasy. For reasons he didn’t understand, and with any luck never would, their association would be short-lived. She did not intend to spend a good portion of their limited time together dealing with potential competitors for his attention.

  Thrilled at the promise in his eyes, she lifted a brow and waited.

  “Exclusivity goes both ways.”

  “That goes without saying.” She waved a hand. “We part as friends, doing everything possible to make sure Sil and Elliott don’t get caught in any kind of crossfire.”

  He nodded.

  “Well, then.” She heaved a breath. “I guess the negotiations are complete.” Now that they were, her heart raced like a runaway train, and she had no idea what they were supposed to do next. “I’ve never negotiated this type of thing before. What do we do now?”

  He chuckled and brushed a fingertip over the curve of her cheek. “First, we relax. This doesn’t have to be complicated, Rylee. Don’t over think it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. I’m about to have a heart attack.”

  He laughed and bending, brushed his lips over hers once more. He straightened before the heat between them could explode out of control.

  “We’ll start with that meal. How does your schedule look tomorrow? Can you meet me for lunch? Say, around one?”

  “I could do that.”

  “Good. What’s your cell number?” He unclipped the phone from his belt.

  She recited the number and he punched at the keypad, placing a call. Her annoy-Sil ringtone chimed. She scrambled to pull the phone from her pocket.

  “Disney fan or are you a romantic?” he asked, grinning.

  She jammed her thumb down on the power button. Disney could have used Coop’s likeness for one of their animated princes. With his head of thick, dark hair and the toothy grin on his handsome face, he had the look.

  “Neither,” she said. “Long story.”

  “Okay, Snow White,” he chuckled at her smirk, “you have my number. Call me tomorrow and I’ll let you know what time I’ll be free from court.” He clipped his phone back on his belt. “Thank Silvia for me, will you? Her jambalaya is the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  “You’re leaving?” The question came out as a squeak.

  “I’m giving you a little space to get used to the idea of you and me.”

  “Oh.”

  Confusion beetled her brows. Agreeing with his suggestion that they get to know one another was a big frigging deal, at least for her, and he wanted to leave? Maybe she had misread his signals after all, despite that heated kiss.

  He took the small step needed to bring their bodies flush once again. Sandwiched between the bars of the cage and his muscled body, she couldn’t miss one very prominent signal pressed against her belly. She stared up into his heated gaze.

  “Unless you’re willing to join me in that bed we discussed right now, I’m going home to take a cold shower.”

  Tempted to suggest he use her shower after she joined him in the bed just down the hall, she nodded instead. “That might be best.”

  “Then I’ll look forward to your call tomorrow.” He stepped back, his intent blue gaze roaming her face before he turned on his heel and left.

  She called Pippin back when he tried to follow.

  Chapter Seven

  The restaurant, upscale and crowded despite the traditional noon rush having passed more than two hours earlier, charmed Rylee with its welcoming atmosphere. She swiveled her head, absorbing every aspect of the converted carriage house as she followed the maitre d’ to a secluded table near the back. Coop rose at their approach, a slow smile spreading across his face, and nerves tap-danced over Rylee’s spine. She smiled and thanked the maitre d’ when he held out her chair.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” she said once they were alone. “My appointments ran a little long this morning.”

  And the last one had been worth the delay. As long as the multiple inspections of the Cain warehouse came back clean, Adam’s House would have its next building, at a price they could afford.

  “I just got here myself,” Coop replied. “Thanks for meeting me.”

  “You promised me a meal.” She curved her lips in a subtle challenge. “Several, if I recall.

  “And I always keep my promises.” He grinned and held out the bottle of wine for her inspection. She nodded and he filled her glass.

  The light in his eyes spoke of promises other than food and she suppressed a shiver of anticipation. Having an affair with an assistant district attorney may not be the wisest thing she would ever do, but considering the zing of pleasure careening through her system simply from sitting at a table with him, the risk would be worth the potential fallout.

  “This is my first time here.” She picked up her wine, glancing around. Fresh flowers adorned the linen-covered tables. Candlelight created a cozy ambiance, as did the soothing notes of the baby grand piano in the center of the room, tinkling beneath the quiet murmur of conversation. She met his gaze. “It’s lovely.”

  “Like you.”

  The compliment made her grin. “Nice line, councilor.”

  Humor sparkled in his eyes over the rim of his wineglass. “No line.” He set the glass aside and picked up his menu. “Simple truth. Shall we order?”

  He asked after her day while they waited for the arrival of their lunches, and she reciprocated, intrigued to learn he’d spent the morning dealing with the suspected Queen’s arsonist. A string of fires had troubled the burrow over the summer. The pre-dawn blazes were the result of Molotov cocktails tossed from a passing car into vacant buildings. Dismissed at first as random pranks by kids, the charge elevated to murder when one of the targeted buildings wasn’t empty after all. Two homeless men perished in the fire.

  “I’m glad they finally got him,” she said, suppressing a shudder. “So many fires in such a short time have left people jumpy.”

  Coop nodded, waiting until the waiter delivered their plates and left. “What made you decide on dog training?”

  “It was more a natural progression than a decision.” The savory aroma of pasta with red peppers and basil teased her nose, making her mouth water. She forked up a bite. “Heavenly,” she moaned and licked her lips. “When I was twelve years-old, I found a stray dog living in the woods behind our house. One of his legs was broken. A car hit him, I think. I knew nothing about dogs, but I couldn’t leave him to suffer.”

  “You kept him?”

  She nodded. “For three days I worked to gain his trust. Once I had, I snuck him into the house and cleaned him up. When Sil found out she pitched a fit, but I just couldn’t let the poor thing struggle on his own. He’d already been through enough. Long story short, Adam and I convinced Sil we needed a dog and Tri became a member of the family.”

  “Tri?”

  “The leg needed to be amputated, but that didn’t slow him down. He was the fastest thing on three legs, and the first of many strays I collected. I managed to find homes for most of them, and word of my ability with dogs got around. I earned my first dollar training Mrs. Olsen�
��s poodle to stop digging up her rose beds.”

  He propped his elbows on the table. “So, a psychotic Great Dane is a natural progression from three legged mutts and digging poodles?”

  “Pippin isn’t psychotic,” she argued, but smiled.

  “All evidence to the contrary.”

  “He responded readily enough when you took control of the situation.” She mirrored his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I was very impressed.”

  He dropped his head slightly, shrinking the distance between them. “I was trying to impress the idiot dog. You’re admiration is a bonus.”

  Their gazes tangled across the table and she welcomed the delicious spark of sexual tension flaring between them.

  “Well,” she cleared her throat, “you managed both.”

  “Is that why you agreed to our…dating thing? Because of my impressive handling of a wild animal?”

  She grinned into his laughing blue gaze. “Of course. But what really impressed me was that you didn’t scream like a girl when Pippin knocked you on your ass.”

  He chuckled and she sat back, picking up her wine glass. “The point is with the right handling, Pippin will make a great family pet.”

  “For a family of lion tamers, maybe.”

  “I shouldn’t laugh since I’ve had the same thought. Oh, not that he needs a lion tamer, but he will need someone assertive enough to handle his size and zest for life. I’m not sure assertive applies to his owner. Mrs. Wilson is intimidated by him.”

  “Why would she choose such a monster if she’s afraid of him?”

  “I have no idea, although he wasn’t a monster when she got him.”

  “What will happen to him if she decides he’s too much for her?”

  “I won’t let anything happen to him. Though I try to avoid emotional attachments with my charges, I have to admit, Pippin has wormed his way into my heart. If things don’t work out with the Wilsons, I’ll find him another home.” She cocked her head, studying him. “He likes you. In fact—”

  “Oh, no.” Coop shook his head, shutting her down. “The only member of The Canine Academy I’m interested in is its owner.”

  “Hmmm…” She made her sigh a subtle tease. “Well, that’s too bad. Handling a wild animal may impress me, but I’m a complete sucker for a guy with a dog.”

  His low laugh brought about the return of that electrical charge she’d experienced yesterday, and her nipples pebbled beneath the confines of her blouse and bra. She marveled at his ability to touch her without lifting a finger, but his next words almost made her spew wine across the table.

  “How did you come to be raised by Sil?”

  Well, crap. That didn’t take long.

  What had she been thinking? They would proceed with this dating thing without any of the usual get-to-know-you questions? Cutting her losses and walking away before the whole situation blew up in her face would be the best course. But damn it, she didn’t want to walk away. Not yet. Evasion was her best option.

  “Sil and Adam were the only family I had left,” she said, and then quickly asked, “What about you? Sil says Elliott and you moved around a lot while you were growing up. What was that like?”

  ****

  “I wasn’t implying we should stop seeing each other, Cooper. I was upset. You know it was a big night for me. Even Giovanni wondered where you were.”

  “Did you tell him I was in Chicago, making sure a murderer doesn’t walk free?”

  At her irritated sigh, Coop wondered, and not for the first time, why either of them allowed their association to continue so long. Other than the sex, in the two years he and Ashley Connor dated, they hadn’t seen eye-to-eye on much, including the amount of time he spent doing his job. Frankly, there were times he wasn’t sure she even liked him.

  After having spent time with Rylee, with her easy smiles, sarcastic wit, dark-secret eyes and gut-wrenching walk, he had to admit, he didn’t particularly like Ashley either. The cynical convenience that defined his and Ashley’s relationship left a bitter film in his throat. His connection to one of the most sought-after women on several continents had been a stroke to Coop’s ego. For Ashley, Coop’s political connections were the main source of appeal. But using wasn’t the same as caring.

  Exclusivity played no role in their relationship. Unlike Rylee, the word wasn’t in Ashley’s vocabulary. On the road more often than not, Giovanni’s favorite model seduced men worldwide, and too many beautiful women wandered the streets of Manhattan for Coop to be content twiddling his thumbs while awaiting Ashley’s return.

  “Why don’t you ask Giovanni to take you tomorrow night?” he suggested. “He’ll know everyone and I’m sure he’ll enjoy himself more than I would.”

  “He’s already going,” she snapped. “Besides, he’s gay, darling,” she added more evenly.

  “And your point is? It’s an industry event, not a candlelit dinner for two.”

  “Why are you being difficult? I said I was sorry.”

  “I’m being reasonable. I don’t see the point of dragging this out when we both knew all along what we had together was never going to go anywhere.”

  “You’re right,” she sniffed. “I’d prefer attending alone to spending another interminable evening with a workaholic bore who can’t tell the difference between discount catalog and couture.”

  He chuckled at her peevish tone. “Point taken. Take care of yourself, Ashley.”

  “You’re dumping me?” Incredulity rang in her clipped demand.

  “I thought we came to that mutual decision the last time we spoke, but if it makes you feel better, consider me the dumpee in this case.”

  “Oh, I do, you bastard.” Her hard-won cultured accent disappeared beneath a nasal Bronx snarl. “Nobody dumps Ashley Connor.”

  The call clicked off, and knowing Ashley, she’d be picking up a new phone to replace the one she just shattered against the wall of her Park Avenue townhouse. Pissed, her ego tweaked, she would fume for a while, but a new man would be warming her bed before the end of the week. He put her out of his mind, an easy task since the moment he’d knocked on Elliott’s door and gotten an eyeful of Rylee Pierce.

  He’d endured several teasing comments from Tim this week, remarking on his preoccupation with the sultry dog trainer. His friend lifted a knowing brow when Coop requested Tim include Rylee in his investigation after all.

  “The bigger they are, the harder they fall,” he insisted, laughing.

  Coop didn’t bother correcting Tim’s assumption. The truth was, she intrigued him, and not just because he desperately wanted her in his bed.

  Rylee Pierce had secrets.

  At lunch earlier in the week, she displayed a warm and funny personality, and showed genuine interest when the topic turned to his career. A smartass dog trainer one moment, a sexy seductress the next, he was charmed…until the moment he inquired as to how she’d come to be raised by Silvia. Her eyes went flat and she looked as though she wanted to bolt. She changed the subject, her evasion clumsy, and he let it go. For the time being.

  As a prosecutor, he understood appearances could be deceiving. Most people had something in their background they would rather not have exposed to the public, but he couldn’t imagine what that something might be in Rylee’s case. A straightforward woman with a giving nature, she hadn’t set off any of the internal alarms he’d come to trust after dealing with scumbags for so long. Still, she was hiding something. By nature and profession, he needed to discover what that something was.

  Negotiating in her kennel, she insisted their dating thing end when one of them decided to walk away. When, at the end of their lunch, she once again expressed her doubts about their association, he suspected she planned to make use of their walk-away-as-friends clause sooner rather than later. She balked, but eventually agreed to a second date, for dinner the next night.

  As skittish as she was, his best plan of attack would be to slow things down and avoid those topics that set her off
. He hadn’t mistaken the sensual expectancy in her eyes, despite the occasional flash of panic. Desire to keep her secrets battled with old-fashioned lust, and while he suspected the private side of her considered cutting and running, the sensual side responded helplessly to every carnal lure he tossed out, leaving him all but sweating in anticipation.

  Gaining her trust was the key to overcoming her wariness, and if that meant pulling back and letting her call the shots for the time being, he’d do it. In the meantime, he was beginning to detest cold showers.

  ****

  Emily Wilson jumped and her startled yelp echoed across the yard when Pippin bumped her thigh.

  Rylee gritted her teeth. “Pack leader, Emily. Remember?”

  The academy’s morning class had ended ten minutes earlier. Sil returned upstairs to check on Elliott, while Rylee remained for some one-on-one time with Pippin and Emily. So far, the exercise produced nothing but anxiety for both dog and owner. The tiny brunette clutched the leash so tightly her knuckles were white. Pippin all but danced at her side.

  “He’s gotten so big,” Emily complained, tugging at his leash. “I just can’t handle him.”

  “He’s a Great Dane. Of course he’s big.”

  Rylee moved toward them while giving Pippin the signal to stay. His visible quivering broadcast an imminent mutiny. A horrifying vision of Pippin dragging Emily Wilson across the exercise yard like a rag doll tethered to the tail of a manic kite flashed in Rylee’s head. She hurried her steps, not surprised when Emily thrust the leash into her hand and scrambled back.

  “Dogs don’t stay puppies forever, Emily. What were you expecting?”

  “I guess I didn’t think it through,” she admitted, her face pale in the morning sunlight.

  Rylee didn’t bother agreeing with the woman’s understatement. “Why would you choose such a large breed if his size is a problem?”

  “When I was growing up the woman in the next apartment owned a Great Dane. They always looked so regal together. A Great Dane makes a statement.”

  “A dog isn’t a statement. A dog is a commitment and a member of the family.”