“Why don’t you come up with a list of repairs and improvements you’ll need,” Marla said. “Put them in order of importance and email it to me.” She flipped her black sunglasses down from her head onto her face. “When I decide on a project, I go all in. So don’t hesitate to list the smallest item. If I agree with you, I’ll make sure it gets done.” She air-kissed both his cheeks and strode for her cherry-red Jaguar XK convertible.
Gabe stepped to Brad’s side as Marla arranged blue-and-white scarfs over first her poodle’s head and then her own, like some 1950s movie stars, and drove off in a cloud of dust. “She’s going to be a problem.”
“She saved our asses.” Brad turned and looked at his new shelter. Some of the windows were broken, and scraps of paint hung off the walls in tired strips. But it was going to be perfect. And he had Izzy to thank for it.
If only she’d answer his damn calls.
“You’ve got to be careful when someone else holds the purse strings,” Gabe warned. He rubbed his jaw. “She’ll have control over your shelter.”
“Without Marla Popov, I wouldn’t have a shelter.” Pulling out his phone, he checked the blank screen again. “I don’t care if she wants to pretty it up. She can paint the walls pink for all I care.”
Gabe blanched. “God help us.”
“Can you get started on that list of what you’ll need for the exam room?” Brad shoved his phone away and pulled out his keys. “I have to go take care of something.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Gabe waved him off. “Go get your girl. And tell her good job with the fund-raiser yesterday. It earned more than any of the shit ones you threw together.”
“Piss off,” Brad said good-naturedly. He jogged to his truck. Enough of Izzy ignoring him. They were going to hash this out, once and for all. Yes, he’d lost his temper. She’d kept critical information from him. And he’d only missed their talk because of the woman she’d found to save his shelter. Marla had sounded crazy when she’d first approached him, telling him of a mill in the woods she was basically giving him. He’d been anxious to see if it existed and if it would suit his needs. Surely Izzy wouldn’t hold his eagerness against him. Especially since he’d texted his apologies.
He stopped off at a florist in Pineville before driving to her office. She shouldn’t be angry. But a bouquet of roses never hurt.
She wasn’t behind her desk, but a coworker directed him to the conference room down the hall. Behind the glass wall, Izzy sat huddled close to that other real estate agent, Tariq. Brad tapped on the open door. “Can I interrupt?”
Izzy looked up. Dark circles bruised the skin under her eyes, and her hair didn’t have its normal shine. He lowered his arm, the roses knocking against his thigh. What the hell? He took a step toward her, and she flinched. The jerk of her head had been slight, but it cut right through him. The back of his mouth burned. Something was wrong. More wrong than he’d expected.
Tariq looked at Izzy and back at Brad. “Uh, yeah. We can take a break.” He stood. “I’ll look up those comparables,” he told her.
Izzy nodded. She drew the papers in front of her into a neat stack as Brad shut the door behind Tariq. He shifted on his feet, feeling uncertain suddenly. “Is this a bad time?”
“I am at work. And you know how important money is to me.” Izzy folded her hands together in front of her and stared at him, expressionless.
Blowing out a breath, Brad walked around the table. “I’m sorry I said that. It wasn’t fair. And it isn’t true.” He laid the flowers next to her stack of papers and took the seat Tariq had vacated. He turned Izzy’s chair to face him.
She twisted back toward the table.
“Don’t be like that.” Brad ran a hand through his hair.
“Like what? What exactly is this?” She picked the bouquet up a couple of inches and dropped it down. “You want to end it on a high note? Do you need your exes to still think you’re a good guy?”
“End it?” The hair at the nape of his neck felt stiff. “What do you think is going on here? We’re not over.”
She blinked. “We fought, and you told me to get out of your office. I told you to meet me after the banquet to talk, and you took off. Don’t accuse me of misreading the situation. You want this to be over, man up and just say it.”
Swinging her chair back around, he bracketed her legs with his, making sure she stayed in place. “I lost my temper when I found out about the sale. Sue me.” He leaned forward. “I’m going to get angry sometimes. We’re gonna fight. Doesn’t mean we’re over.”
“But—”
“Second, I had to leave yesterday. Your client, Marla, practically dragged me and Gabe out of the banquet to meet with her inspector at the mill. Once that woman makes up her mind, not much gets in her way. I wasn’t about to lose the opportunity that you worked to get me. Besides,” he said, putting his face up close to hers, “I texted saying I couldn’t make it. And called. You never got back to me.”
“You did not.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened up her messaging. “Nothing from you.”
Brad frowned and pulled out his own phone. “It’s showing that they sent.” He dialed Izzy’s number and stared at her unringing phone. “Your phone’s broken.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Oh crap. I must have grabbed Ana’s. I wonder what the hell I did with mine,” she muttered. Biting her lip, she darted a glance at him. “I thought you were ghosting me. That you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
Well, that was just too stupid for words. He grabbed the back of her neck and dragged her close. Her breath brushed across his chin for the moment it took before their mouths met. He gripped her skull, his tongue probing between her lips before she opened for him. He took what she offered until she circled her hand around his wrist and whimpered. They broke apart, breathless. “Does that seem like a man who’s done?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered. She rested her forehead against his. “You didn’t walk out on us?”
“You need more proof?” He could give her that. He dragged her onto his lap and supplied all the evidence a jury would ever need. He didn’t know how much time passed before a woman tapped on the glass wall and shook her head before walking away. But it was enough time for all of Izzy’s lipstick to be rubbed away, leaving her lips swollen and pink, and to bring back her smile.
She swiped her thumb over his lips. “So that was just an everyday fight for you? Because usually if I get in a fight like that, it means something’s ending.”
“It won’t be every day. Hopefully not even every year.” He squeezed her hip. “But fights happen. Know this: I’ll always fight harder to keep you.”
“Does that…” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “Does that mean you love me?”
“Of course.” What the hell did a man have to do to show that? “What do you think all of this has been about? Of course I love you.”
He should have led with that. The flowers hadn’t gotten him anywhere, but those few sentences did the trick. Her body melted onto his. “You do? Even though I’m tight with money and put my work ahead of having fun?”
Whether she was fishing for compliments or needed more reassurance, he was there for his girl. “Jesus, how could a man not?” He shook his head. “I love that you’re careful with money, because I know you do it to protect and provide for Ana. I love that you’re a hard worker, because you’ve shown me that you work hard in all areas of your life.” Her pink cheeks showed that she took his meaning. Blood flowed south as he thought about just how untiring she was in bed. He nudged her jaw with his nose. “I love how you prepare for everything, that your purse is like a magic bag that you can pull anything from. And I love that you’ll do what’s right, even when it’s hard and you don’t want to. Like saving a bunch of dogs when it can get you in trouble.” And like keeping her client’s confidence even though she must have wanted to tell Brad the tr
uth. He didn’t know if he was ready to voice that one yet, but he understood it. And respected the hell out of it. Out of her. “There isn’t anything about you that doesn’t do it for me, Isabelle Lopez.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she crushed her mouth to his. Her tongue pushed between his lips, and she kissed him rough. Greedy. Hot. And she didn’t break away no matter how many of her coworkers knocked and hooted outside the conference room.
Yeah, he definitely should have led with that.
Chapter Twenty
Elbow aching, Izzy scrubbed at the stubborn edge of the long wood table with a piece of sandpaper. She should have asked to use Brad’s power sander, but then, that would have rather ruined the surprise. The door creaked behind her, and she froze.
“Damn, every hinge in this joint needs oil.” Brad stomped inside. “I’ve been looking for you. Where…what is this?”
Izzy turned and smiled at Brad’s adorably confused expression. He stood with his hands on his hips as he surveyed the small outbuilding next to the new shelter. There were several of them dotting the landscape, some that were going to be knocked down, but Izzy had known when she’d seen this one, with the grimy but large skylight and solid wood floors, that it would be perfect.
She tossed the sandpaper down on the table and spread her arms out wide. “Surprise!”
He scratched his jaw. “What am I looking at? Why are you fixing up this building?” He ran a hand over the newly painted walls. “Nice color.”
“Glad you like it.” She took a deep breath. “Because this is your new workshop.”
“My workshop?”
Settling by his side, Izzy wrapped an arm around his waist. Holding on to him always grounded her. “Debbie told me you already have three orders for your dog mobility devices from the website. And you need a space besides your office to build them. What do you think?”
“You did this for me?” His eyes went wide, and a smile broke across his face.
“Well, I had some help.” She’d found the six-foot-long hunk of reclaimed wood, and Gabe had screwed legs onto it to make the worktable. Dax had somehow gotten the monstrosity down here and in through the door. “Everything’s cleaned, sanded, well, almost all sanded, painted and ready for your tools. You can hit the ground running with your designs.”
A chorus of barking grew louder, and Ana flew through the open doorway, Vi, Jazz, and Stephanie hot on her heels. “Dax is going to pick up another load of dogs to bring back, and he’s going to stop for ice cream. Can I go with him?”
“One scoop,” Izzy said. “We have dinner in a couple of hours.”
Ana fiddled with the end of her braid. “I burned off a lot of calories at the soccer game this morning. I don’t think two scoops will ruin my appetite.”
“One scoop, but you can get a topping.”
Ana pumped her fist. “Yes! I already got money from your purse. I’ll see you later!” And she was gone in a blur of swinging braids and barking dogs.
“Leave the dogs here!” Izzy shook her head. The chance Ana had heard were at best fifty-fifty.
“You do realize she played you.” Wrapping his arms around her middle, Brad slowly turned them in a circle, examining his new space. “She was going for the topping all along.”
Izzy shrugged. “Negotiating is a useful skill. If that’s the only thing I teach her, I’ll be happy.”
He buried his face in her neck, and a shiver skittered down her spine. “You know that’s not the only thing you’ve taught her.”
“Well, I’ve taught her to make a pretty mean cupcake, too.”
He growled, the sound vibrating against her skin and burrowing deep inside. Brad had become her biggest cheerleader. He didn’t let anyone put her down, not even herself. But it was fun to rile him up.
She spun in his arms and locked her hands behind his neck. “I thought you liked my cupcakes,” she teased.
“Vi always steals mine.”
She must not have chased off after Ana with the other dogs, because hearing her name, Vi poked her head into the building. Izzy tapped her thigh, and her dog trotted up to her for a back rub.
Brad gripped her hips and pulled her close. “Thank you for this. It’s perfect for a workshop.” He backed her up until her butt hit the table. “And this table is perfect. For a lot of different things.”
“Oh?”
Gripping her hips, he hefted her up, and she wound her legs around his thighs. She liked where his mind went.
“You know,” he murmured, brushing his lips across her neck, “I was running some numbers, and with this side business, I should be able to build up a tidy emergency reserve for the shelter.”
Izzy’s fingers tingled with the need to touch him, and she dug them into his hair, tugging his head down. “Oh God, that is so sexy.”
His lips curved against her skin. “I knew that would get you going. Can’t wait until I tell you I’ve opened a CD.”
Vi jumped up, her paws on Izzy’s thigh, and nosed around a pocket of Brad’s cargo pants.
Izzy groaned. “Baby girl, this might be one of those times when three’s a crowd.” She scratched behind Vi’s ears.
Pulling a dog biscuit from his pocket, Brad fed it to Vi. She dropped to her feet and crunched it into crumbs, then licked the floor clean.
“No wonder she’s always all over you,” Izzy said. “You’ve got treats in every pocket.”
Brad pulled out another biscuit and tossed it out the door. Vi bounded after it.
Cupping his hands under her butt, Brad tugged her closer and squeezed. “Don’t worry. I’ve got treats enough for all my girls.”
And he spent the next half hour proving it.
About the Author
Allyson Charles lives in Northern California. She’s the author of the Pineville Romance series, small-town contemporary romances published by Lyrical Press. A former attorney, she happily ditched those suits and now works in her pajamas writing about men’s briefs instead of legal briefs. When she’s not writing, she’s probably engaged in one of her favorite hobbies: napping, eating, or martial arts. (That last one almost makes up for the first two, right?) One of Allyson’s greatest disappointments is living in a state that doesn’t have any Cracker Barrels in it.
If you’d like to be notified of upcoming releases and/or special giveaways, please join Allyson’s newsletter at www.allysoncharles.com/newsletter.
You can find her at www.allysoncharles.com or @1allysoncharles.
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