Focus, Chatterson.
He cracked his knuckles, then put his hands in his pockets before pulling them out and crossing his arms over his torso. “No problem.”
When he heard the dog let out another growl toward the delivery men, Kane tossed him a second doughnut. Attaboy. At least he knew someone was protecting her.
“Okay, I guess I’m leaving you two in charge,” Julia said, giving the hound another pat on his smooth head. Then she bolted toward her car and waved before driving off to the hospital.
“Well, big guy,” Kane said to the pooch before walking down to help the men from Land O’Appliances unload. “Your mom didn’t leave me any rules, so I guess she expects you to stay put and not get in my way today.”
Yet all day long, the dog was close on his heels. Unlike its owner who couldn’t seem to get away from Kane fast enough.
* * *
The sun was setting and Julia’s stomach was already rumbling with hunger when she pulled into her driveway and saw the thickset basset hound sitting on her front porch. She sighed. It wasn’t that Julia minded dogs. She just hadn’t been around too many. In fact, she’d always wanted a pet of her own, but her father had been allergic to nearly anything with fur and four legs.
She supposed it might be kind of nice to have an animal around the house, and if Kane wanted to bring his dog to work with him, who was she to object? Especially after the guy had already gone above and beyond for her at the home goods store the other day.
Besides, Mr. Donut seemed relatively well-behaved enough, even if Julia did have some concerns about the healthiness of his diet. And the fact that the animal could probably benefit from a good scrubbing. But it wasn’t any of her business—unless she found muddy paw prints on her new white comforter. She’d maybe have to say something to Kane at that point.
If she could get herself to stop sounding like a tongue-tied teenager in front of the man every time his heat-filled gaze turned in her direction. Speaking of which, why was he still working this late?
She set the parking brake and shoved the open box of chocolate-covered raisins back into her purse. When she walked in the door, she almost crashed into Kane’s chest, making him drop his tool bag on the floor before he reached out a hand to steady her. And then her tongue twisted itself into a neat little knot again and a tingle shot from the base of her scalp to the back of her knees.
“Sorry. I meant to be gone by now,” he said, and she tried not to notice the way the antique chandelier in the front parlor cast a fiery glow along the bronze stubble covering his jawline. “I was trying to get the kitchen sink installed before you got home. But when I heard you pull up, I threw in the towel and figured I’d get out of your hair for the night.”
“You don’t have to leave on my account.” Although it probably would be better if he and his sexy five o’clock shadow left so that she could get back to avoiding all the sensations that got stirred up whenever he was near her.
“No, I need to leave on my own account. I’m going to drive myself crazy if I waste any more time on those antique pipes.” He gestured toward the kitchen, and she saw the makeshift bandage on his thumb.
“You’re hurt.”
“What? This?” He shoved the injured digit, which appeared to be wrapped in a paper towel and duct tape, into his pocket. “Just busted my knuckle while I was trying to show that brushed nickel faucet who was boss. And lost.”
“Oh no. Will the replica farm handle pump I picked out not work?”
“No, it’ll work. But it’s beyond my pay grade. I have a friend who specializes in plumbing, and I’m going to call him in to handle it for me. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind?”
He shrugged his shoulders and did that chin wiping thing again. Which only drew her attention to his full mouth. “Some clients are funny about having subcontractors come into their houses without vetting them first.”
“I’m not. I mean, I don’t want just anybody working on my home, but I trust your judgment.”
He gave her a questioning look and didn’t respond. Julia couldn’t tell if that meant Of course you should trust my judgment or Why in the world would you trust my judgment? Either way, she still had a lot to do tonight, and none of it would get done by standing in her entryway making small talk with the hard-to-read Kane Chatterson.
Her phone vibrated, and the screen indicated a new text message from Freckles. “Speaking of vetting people,” Julia announced, glad for the excuse to look at something other than his chiseled face. “My aunt signed me up for one of those online dating sites today. She already filled out the application and paid the dues, but I need to log in there and change her answers and the profile she wrote for me before some romantic hopeful gets the wrong idea and messages me. It’s going to be a long night cleaning up her potential mess.”
“Online dating?” he asked, and she felt heat rise into her cheeks. Now he wanted to ask questions? He was supposed to take the hint and leave her alone to deal with her awkward social life. The one she didn’t want.
“Embarrassing, right?”
“Not necessarily.” He shrugged. “But how’d your aunt get you to agree to that? Never mind. I’ve met Freckles, and I’ve witnessed your negotiating skills.”
The smallest hint of a grin danced along his lips, and suddenly Julia wanted to experience the full effect of Kane Chatterson’s smile again. Even if it was at the expense of him teasing her. “You’re never going to let me forget that trip to the appliance store, are you?”
“Not if you end up matched with a knucklehead like Paulie the Salesman, I won’t.”
“I would think I’m smart enough to have learned my lesson after dating one of my—” She cut herself off at the curious tilt of his head. Really, the fact that she’d foolishly been romantically involved with one of her charismatic college professors—before finding out he had a wife and a history of sleeping with most of his female TAs—was none of his business. Julia wasn’t proud of the fact that her first, and only, intimate relationship had been built on her inability to see through Professor Mosely’s lies. She didn’t need Kane’s curiosity or his pity, nor did she want to point out that she’d always had trouble with interpersonal skills. “Anyway, I promised Freckles that I would go out on three different dates to screen a candidate for my dreaded plus-one.”
“With three different guys?” His tone made her think that three was too lofty an aspiration.
“I assume that’s what she meant,” Julia said, wishing his eyebrows would stop lifting like that, mimicking her rising apprehension over what she’d agreed to.
“That’s your problem, Jules. You see the world in black and white and you think everyone and every situation is going to go exactly by the book.”
She crossed her arms and ignored the warm sensation that fluttered in her tummy at the nickname he’d now used twice. “They should. It makes more sense, logically, to take things at face value. It would be a lot easier to understand what people are thinking and fit in with them if we were all on the same page.”
“It would be nice if it were that simple, but the real world doesn’t work that way.”
“I know.” She sighed. In fact, nobody knew that better than her. “Which is why I’d rather go to the hospital fund-raiser alone. It’s difficult enough feeling out of place at a social function with coworkers. Now I need to make sure I don’t pick a date who is equally inexperienced and out of place.”
Kane pulled his hands out of his pockets, used his bandaged thumb to click his gold watch open and closed a couple of times, then shoved the timepiece back in his pocket. Just when Julia thought she’d made him uncomfortable with all this dating talk, he said, “If you want, I could take a look at these guys before you decide to settle on the top three.”
“Top three? I’d be lucky if I could find o
ne who matched my list of requirements and wasn’t old enough to be my grandfather.”
“This would be your man list, right?” Kane asked, his eyebrows lifted.
Julia’s cheeks couldn’t get any hotter. Why had she allowed him to refinish the floorboards in the entryway? Now there was no chance of the glossy hardwood planks swallowing her up. “Please forget I ever mentioned that thing to you. Truly, it’s not a serious list. And certainly not one that Aunt Freckles would likely follow.”
“Let me take a look at it, and I’ll help weed out the candidates that don’t match. I’d hate to see you end up with some loser who wasn’t good enough for you.”
She’d been wrong about her cheeks. Flames of embarrassment rushed up Julia’s neck and heated her entire face. There was absolutely no way she would ever show Kane Chatterson that pointless piece of paper where she’d written down what she was looking for in a man, especially since half the requirements were inspired by him.
“How do I know that you’d be any better at picking one?” She hoped that didn’t come out too defensive, but she needed to get the subject off her list and her crummy dating life—or lack thereof.
“Because I have plenty of experience when it comes to this kind of thing.”
He did? Curiosity was building inside her like a snowball rolling downhill, cooling her blush and causing her to forget all about professional boundaries. “So you date a lot?”
“I used... I mean, no. I don’t date a lot, nor do I want to. But I’m the oldest of five kids, so I’ve got the protective older brother role down to a science.”
And there was her answer. Disappointment threatened to crack her rib cage into a million pieces. Kane had never been interested in her that way. He was offering out of pity for her. Or brotherly concern. On the other hand, he might just want to make sure she didn’t pick a sociopathic serial killer so that nothing happened to her or to the payment of his hefty remodeling fee. There was also the chance he just wanted a front-row seat to watching her fail epically at the one area she’d never been able to master in life—
Dating.
Sex.
Although, Julia had a feeling that sex with Kane Chatterson wouldn’t feel like a failure at all.
Now where did that thought come from? she wondered.
She waved a dismissive hand and held open the front door. “I’ll let you know if anything even comes of the process. Fingers crossed, nobody will even select me as a match and I’ll be off the hook.”
Kane’s near-smile clamped into a tight line, and he bent to retrieve his tool bag off the floor. “Just make sure you’re the one doing the selecting. Not the other way around.”
“That’s another lesson on negotiating. Got it.”
“I’d better take off,” he said, passing by her to get to the front door she’d left open. “Stay,” he said to the hound thumping its tail against the battered planks of the front porch. Then he continued down the steps without his seemingly obedient canine.
Wait. Was he leaving his dog here?
“What about Mr. Donut?” she called out when he was climbing into his Bronco.
“What about him?” He slammed the heavy door closed, then rolled down the window.
“Doesn’t he want to go with you?”
As though to answer for himself, the hound plopped down on his sizable belly—which wasn’t too far off the ground, considering his short little legs—and rested his chin on Julia’s foot.
“I don’t know why he would,” Kane said. “I’m all out of pastries. And to be honest with you, that old boy could probably benefit from one of those low-calorie brands of dog chow. I’m sure whatever you pick up at the feed store will be fine.”
Julia tilted her head as he started up his engine. Was she missing something here? Had he sent her a text or an email about watching his dog for him, and she’d accidentally replied to it? She really needed to learn how to use that new cell phone.
“So, just to be clear,” she called out over the sound of revving. “You want me to go buy him some diet dog food tonight?”
“That’s up to you, but I think he’s had plenty to eat already today, so you might as well grab it on your way home tomorrow. Also, I couldn’t find a water bowl anywhere, so I just filled up one of the new baking dishes. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind what? That he was using her brand-new bakeware to feed and water his dog? Well, to be honest, it wasn’t like she was going to be cooking anything in it anytime soon—if ever. Or did she mind that in the space of five minutes, Kane Chatterson had implied that he thought of her as a sister and his personal pet-sitter?
She squatted down to stroke Mr. Donut’s soft fur. He really was a sweet animal, and it might be kind of fun to play doggy owner for a day or so. It could be like a trial run of sorts to determine if she should get a pet of her own. Plus, it might be kind of nice not to be alone with her disillusionment tonight.
“I guess not,” she said.
Kane’s only acknowledgment was a small nod before driving off and leaving the basset hound happily drooling on her clogs.
“Come on, boy,” she said, sliding her ugly but functional footwear out from under the dog’s chin. His droopy brown eyes looked up at her as he followed her inside. “I’m not sure where you’re supposed to sleep, but it seems you’ve already made yourself at home. I sure wish your owner would’ve at least left me some instructions.”
Maybe people in Sugar Falls did this sort of thing all the time. Perhaps she should be flattered that he trusted her with his pet. Julia had no idea if any of this was normal, but sometimes she got the feeling that her hired contractor wasn’t normal, either. Which left her with another question.
Should she really be talking about her dating life with Kane Chatterson, let alone wishing he were a part of it?
Chapter Eight
“I knew I’d catch Legend Chatterson in here this morning,” Kane heard Kylie Gregson say a week later as she gracefully sat down across from him and swiped a piece of his buttered rye toast.
He looked around to make sure there were only locals in the Cowgirl Up Café. The place might be decorated similar to the inside of Dolly Parton’s horse stables, but it was also one of the few restaurants in town where he felt comfortable enough to let down his guard. “You know I hate it when people call me that, Kylie.”
“Of course I know. But I’m your little sister. My job is to do stuff that you hate.”
“Like volunteering me to hang out with your husband at his group therapy classes?” He took a sip of his decaf coffee.
“Please. You don’t hate that, Kane. Just like you don’t hate coming over for Thanksgiving dinner at my place.”
He raised a questioning eyebrow at her before moving his plate out of her reach.
“That’s why I stopped in this morning when I saw your old truck parked outside,” his meddling sibling continued. “To make sure you’re willing to run interference for me when Mom and Dad come to town next week.”
“Have you suddenly learned how to cook?”
“No. But Luke and Carmen are bringing the boys, and she promised to help me in the kitchen. I figure we could do it potluck-style. So what will you be bringing?”
“If Dad doesn’t promise to behave, some antacid and an excuse to leave early.”
“You know what, Kane Chatterson? Because I’m your sister and I think our father has been too soft on you lately, I’m going to tell you straight up what everyone else has been too afraid to say. Ever since you’ve stopped playing baseball and exiled yourself to Sugar Falls, you’re no fun anymore.”
“Says the new mom of twin babies.” He redistributed some of the sausage gravy onto his hash browns. His sister was worse than his agent, Charlie, who Kane really needed to bite the bullet and fire once and for all. But he didn’t
even like to think about his former career, let alone talk about it out loud. In a public place. “Where are my nieces, anyway? I’m surprised you could get away this long.”
“Drew has them this morning. I have a lot of work at the office I need to catch up on, and he wanted me to stop in and see you because you can’t refuse the invitation in person.”
“Fine. I’ll come to your Thanksgiving dinner, and I’ll even bring something.”
“Perfect. I already put you in charge of beer and wine.”
“That’s about all I’m capable of these days.” In fact, a few years ago, nobody would’ve put Kane Chatterson in any position of responsibility. So at least he was improving.
“Not from what I hear.” Kylie’s singsong voice rattled around his head, just like she’d probably intended for it to do.
“You of all people should know better than to listen to gossip.”
“Oh please. I’m a psychologist’s wife with two kids under nine months and a full-time accounting practice. Unless Drew has an afternoon off and we manage to luck out by getting both girls down for a nap at the same time, small-town gossip is the only entertainment I’ve got left.”
“Ew.”
“Anyway, I heard you’ve gotten a lot done over at the Pinecone Court house.”
He grunted and then shoved the plate of toast in Kylie’s direction when it became evident that she wasn’t going to leave him in peace anytime soon.
“How’s the new boss lady?” his sister asked breezily, as if he didn’t know exactly which direction she was headed with this.
He grunted again, wishing the beard he’d shaved several months ago was still there to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. It had been a couple of days since he’d called in the plumber to finish her kitchen, and with the roofing company he’d subcontracted at her place every day trying to lay new shingles before the typical late November snowstorms, he and Julia hadn’t had any more awkward moments alone where they talked about dating and one of them ended up high-tailing it to their car before they did something they’d regret. As much as he wanted to see her again, it was a good thing he’d been making an effort to avoid her because it forced him to focus on the house remodel and not on the woman who hurled his common sense into the off-season.
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