How to Love a Dog's Best Friend : Must Love Dogs

by Cami Checketts

  His white truck pulled up a few minutes later, a shiny blue and white Malibu boat hitched behind it. He jumped out and hurried around to get her door. Luckily, Ike was not waiting to greet her. “Where’s the beast?” she asked, then felt guilty. Ike hadn’t hurt her. He just was so big and loud, it was hard for her to shelve her fears and memories.

  “Left him at home. He was ready to run around, and I figured if you were with me he couldn’t chase you up the canyon.”

  “I feel empathy for the other runners he’s harassing.”

  “You’re the only runner he chases. Told you he was smart.” He took her elbow and assisted her up the step and into the truck. It was really nice inside the cab, with leather seats and touchscreens she wouldn’t know what to do with. Brikelle sank into the plush leather and wondered how she was going to ride home in a wet swimsuit without damaging the finish. Colt jumped into the driver’s seat.

  “You don’t have to get my door,” Brikelle said. “Emma isn’t here to monitor you.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, but you’re about to meet my momma and if she gets wind of me not being a gentleman, she’d take the skin right off my hide.”

  “Is that a direct quote?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Brikelle smiled, but was suddenly nervous. Why was she meeting his mom? They hardly knew each other and the marriage thing was a complete façade. She didn’t need to do a meet and greet with the family. “How’s she going to react when I tell her you sic’d Ike on me?”

  He chuckled. “She’ll stand up for Ike, so you’d better be careful. She loves that dog.”

  “Oh, great. He’s like the son she never had.”

  “She’s got three sons so I think she realizes Ike is actually a dog.”

  “Do you?”

  Colt chuckled. “Most of the time, but he is a great listener.”

  “That is really sad if you have to talk to a dog because you have no friends.”

  “Ha ha,” he fake-laughed. “I have plenty of friends, and if I ever get tired of them, I have two brothers, but sometimes a man needs to just spill his guts to his four-legged pal.”

  “Talking to a dog is somehow better than talking to yourself?”

  He glanced her way with a grin. “Makes me sound not as touched in the head.”

  Brikelle laughed. He was fun to banter with, easy on the eyes, and apparently a successful businessman and hard worker to boot.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “I was thinking I’d married pretty well.”

  He stopped at the four-way stop and turned to look at her. “Even with Ike as part of the package?”

  She groaned. “Oh, don’t remind me.”

  Their glances got tangled as she studied him and realized that she didn’t think of him as a jerk with a dog anymore. He was Colt, and she was interested in getting to know him.

  Someone honked from behind them. Colt hurried to push on the gas and drive through the intersection. They drove south of Eden toward the lake. He pulled through a gate and down a long driveway. A beautiful two-story log home was surrounded by grass and situated a few hundred yards from the edge of the lake.

  “Wow, this is a great spot. It reminds me of home.”

  “Really? Where’s home?” He parked the truck next to the house, put it in gear, and shifted in his seat to face her.

  “My parents have a dairy farm in Burley, Idaho, but our house is right on the Snake River.”

  “Nice. But you didn’t grow up skiing?” His eyes were intent on her face like he had all day to learn everything about her.

  She shook her head. “We never had a ski boat, only old canoes with holes. We could barely patch them quick enough to stay afloat. Never learned how to paddle fast enough to pull a skier.”

  He chuckled.

  “I went skiing with friends sometimes, but I never learned to slalom. Surfing was much easier when I tried—popped up the first time—and I even learned how to go without the rope for a little while.”

  “Good job,” he said, and she felt her cheeks redden. He gestured toward the house and asked, “Are you okay saying hi to Momma first?”

  “Sure.” Though it was a little scary to meet the parents when she hadn’t even really dated the man. “Is your dad … not here?”

  He looked down at the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening from the pressure of his grip. “You can say hi to him, but don’t feel bad if he doesn’t say anything back. I, uh … I’ll just leave it at that.”

  “Okay.” Was his dad socially awkward? How did she ask that? With a shrug, Brikelle pulled up on her door handle.

  “Please don’t,” Colt said, just a little sharply.

  “What?” She released the handle.

  “I told you my mom would cuss me if I wasn’t a gentleman.”

  She leaned back into the comfortable seat again and held up her hands. “Don’t want to risk you getting cussed.”

  “Thank you.” He grinned at her and then rushed around to open her door. Taking her hand in his, he walked toward the wide front porch. Their joined hands felt so natural, but it was still giving her good chills. This was an odd situation. She kept thinking they were a couple and had to remind herself it was all a sham. She didn’t even know this guy and she really didn’t like his dog—a creature that he was extremely attached to.

  The door popped open before they reached it, and a pleasantly plump woman with dark curly hair wearing a bright blue shirt, and even brighter yellow and blue patterned tights, opened her arms. “My boy!”

  Colt smiled and kind of ducked his head. “Hi, Momma.” He wrapped his free arm around his mother, his other hand still holding on to Brikelle’s.

  She kissed his cheek and gave him a squeeze around the waist before turning to Brikelle. “And who is this sweet girl?”

  Brikelle let go of Colt’s hand and extended it to his mom. “Hi, I’m Brikelle.”

  His mom opened her arms wide, and before Brikelle knew it she was engulfed in the softest hug she’d experienced since she left home. The older woman smelled like cinnamon rolls and Brikelle couldn’t help but think of her mom, always ready with a hug and a cup of hot cocoa when Brikelle needed to talk.

  “You just call me Momma or Big Momma, everybody does.” Her dark eyes twinkled.

  “Okay, um, Momma.”

  “Oh, you are such a beauty. Where did you two meet?”

  “Ike chased her down for me.” Colt grinned, grabbed Brikelle’s hand, and tugged her closer like she was the best prize he’d ever found.

  “That old sweetheart. Where is he? I’ve been saving him scraps for almost a week now.”

  “Momma, that’s gross. I give him plenty of food.”

  “You don’t tell me what’s gross. I’ll send them home with you. Dog needs more than that fancy food you buy him. Nobody should eat out of a bag all the time. Come in and say hi to your daddy. You hungry?”

  “No. I picked us up some sandwiches from Eats.”

  “Oh, you. What a waste of your hard-earned money.” She led the way into a huge open room with a loft and the most gorgeous kitchen. The island cabinets were a deep mahogany, but the rest of the kitchen was a distressed stained cherry.

  “Oh, I love your kitchen,” Brikelle gushed.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. My boy remodeled it all for me a few years ago.” She smiled proudly at him. “Best cabinet maker in the state. Oh!” She stopped and faced Colt. “You order me some more of those cards? I gave ’em all away last time we were at your daddy’s doctor visits. Them neurosurgeons make plenty of money to fix up their houses.”

  Neurosurgeons? So it wasn’t social awkwardness after all. She wondered where his dad was, and felt bad that Colt and his mom were dealing with some kind of huge health issue with someone they obviously loved a lot.

  “The cards are on their way. I’m having them delivered here. You do more with them than I do.” He winked at her and said to Brikelle, “My mom’s my best mar
keting tool.”

  “No problem for me to brag about this handsome boy of mine, and his brothers and sisters have made me just as proud.”

  “How many children do you have, Momma?”

  “Five—wish it was twenty. The two girls are the oldest and each have a couple of beautiful grandbabies for me, and they opened their own clothing company.” She pointed to her flowing baby doll shirt. “Even made a line of clothes for bigger ladies to help us look good. You know how successful my Colt is, my Tate is a doctor, and my Brody is an investment genius. If you need help with your portfolio, you know who to call.”

  “Yeah, I wish I had positive cash flow and needed help,” Brikelle said.

  Momma laughed deep and throaty. “I’m sure you will someday, sweetheart.” She turned and called out, “George! Our boy’s brought a pretty girl to meet us. Say hello.”

  Brikelle glanced in the direction she’d yelled. She hadn’t even noticed the man in a leather recliner. He was as slight as his wife was round and it was like his long body was part of the furniture. He barely moved, simply blinked at them.

  “Oh!” Colt broke from her grip and hurried over to the man. “I thought you might be up in bed. Hi, Dad.” He reached down and gave the older man an awkward hug.

  Brikelle melted. He obviously loved his dad a lot.

  He straightened, but kept a hand on his dad’s shoulder. “This is my friend, Brikelle.” He glanced over and smiled at her.

  “George.” There was a pleading note in Momma’s voice. “Can you say hello, please?” She glanced at Brikelle. “Just give him a second, hun.”

  Brikelle nodded in what she hoped was an understanding way.

  The man glanced at Colt before his eyes focused on Brikelle. She realized they were the same cool blue shade as Colt’s, filled with determination and a bit of frustration. “He-l-llo,” he grunted out.

  Momma nodded as if very proud. “Thank you, sweetie pie.”

  “Hello.” Brikelle walked over, reached down, and squeezed his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  He smiled in response, and the look Colt gave her warmed her clear through.

  Momma grinned at all of them. “You sure you won’t eat with us? I made a huge batch of enchiladas because your brothers said they might come see me tonight.”

  “No, save it for the boys,” Colt said. “I’m taking Bri out on the lake.”

  Brikelle’s eyebrows rose at the nickname, but she didn’t comment in front of his parents.

  “Oh, you kids go have fun.” She shooed them toward the door.

  Colt squeezed his dad’s hand again. “See you soon, Dad.”

  Colt paused, and Brikelle noticed Momma stiffen, as if hopeful that he’d get a response. The older man grunted and seemed to be concentrating hard. Colt’s shoulders rounded a bit, but he waited patiently. His dad finally muttered, “Colt.”

  Colt nodded. “Love you, Dad.” He released his dad’s hand, took Brikelle’s hand, and escorted her to the front door.

  They walked onto the front porch and Momma stood by the door. “Come see me again, sweetheart,” she told Brikelle, giving her another brief hug.

  “I will.” Brikelle decided right then and there that after she got Emma’s house done and made it through that party next weekend, she was going to go see her parents and family. It wasn’t that long of a drive to Idaho.

  She wanted to ask Colt more about his dad, but he was silent and a little stiff as they walked to the truck. She didn’t know how to bring it up without seeming like she was prying.

  Colt uncovered the boat and helped her into it. “I’m going to back it in.” He gestured to a short cement ramp. “The Fish and Game doesn’t love us having a private ramp and dock, but nobody can tell Momma no.”

  She smiled. “What can I do to help?”

  “Just sit there and look pretty.”

  Brikelle half-bristled and half-blushed. “I’m not a ‘sit there and look pretty’ kind of girl,” she shot at him.

  He grinned. “You’re an all-star at it.” Jogging to his truck, he backed the boat into the lake, then jumped out and unhooked it, plunging into the water and guiding the boat off the trailer and next to the dock. “Would you please hold on to the dock while I park the truck?”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Oh, it’s no worry. You’ll just float away and have to drive the boat back to me.”

  Brikelle scurried over to grab the dock and he laughed. Within minutes he’d parked the truck and was jogging down the incline to the dock. He climbed into the boat and sat in the driver’s seat, reversing away from the dock, spinning the wheel, and then driving out into the lake a little bit. Brikelle raised her face to let the sun warm her skin. The slight breeze was summery and lightened the stress of the past week. Brikelle forced her eyes away from Colt’s handsome profile to the blue lake and the trees ringing it. Boats zinged by with skiers, boarders, and surfers behind.

  “You ready?” Colt asked.

  She whirled back to look at him. “Am I ready? Aren’t you going to ski?”

  “You’re going to drive the boat for me while I ski?”

  “Oh, um, no, well, you could teach me.” She hadn’t even thought of that. How was he going to ski? She’d never driven a boat, but she’d driven tractors and dump trucks. She could figure out a boat.

  “Do you want to learn?”

  “Try and stop me.”

  He chuckled, his eyes full of a warm appraisal. “Why don’t you surf, and then I’ll teach you how to drive?”

  She nodded. He stood and got out a rope, secured one end to the tower, and lifted down a surfboard from the rack. It was smaller than a normal surfboard, but was similar in that she simply needed to place her feet on the board rather than slip them into footholds like a wakeboard or a ski. Brikelle peeled off her tank top and shorts and took the lifejacket he offered her. His eyes remained focused on her face and she was grateful he wasn’t ogling her body.

  Brikelle secured the life jacket and leapt into the water. She gasped and surfaced quickly, beating her arms against the water to warm up. It was chilly, even in July. The lake was surrounded by mountains and had been fed by spring runoff. There was no way the water was above seventy, but she’d grown up swimming in a river that was probably colder than this. She could handle it.

  She floated next to the boat and Colt stepped onto the wooden platform off the back and slid the board to her, then tossed her the rope. Brikelle got situated with the rope between her legs, reclining back on her life jacket in the water, with her heels resting on the smooth board. Colt pulled slowly forward until the slack was out of the line.

  She couldn’t remember what to say. She sat there feeling dumb for a few seconds. Colt gazed back at her. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. You can go now.”

  “Hit it?” he asked, a small grin crinkling the corner of his mouth.

  “Yeah, hit it!”

  She could hear him chuckle as he pushed the throttle forward. She crouched and stood up with the board pressed against the balls of her feet. It was so smooth that before she knew it she was up and standing on top of the board, skimming along the water. “Wahoo!” she screamed out, then threw back her head and laughed.

  Colt glanced back at her with a grin.

  Brikelle felt like she was floating behind the boat. She pushed her feet forward and back to move herself a little bit and finally got confident enough to pull herself to “the sweet spot,” where her friends had taught her she could surf without holding on to the rope. Cool water splashed onto her legs and the wind rushed past her.

  She felt the slack in the rope and knew she was there. It was a little unnerving being this close to the back of the boat, but with an inboard motor, she was in no danger. She liked that even though there were other boaters zooming past, she didn’t feel the bumpy water coming from their wakes.

  “You want to toss the rope in?” Colt asked her.

  “Can I?” she hollered bac
k.

  “Go for it.”

  Brikelle waited another minute, getting more slack in the rope and testing if she was really surfing. The wind created by their speed lifted the hair from her face and neck, the sun touching her shoulders, and the distinctive smell of algae and her peach-scented shampoo from her wet hair all added to the moment. Water sprayed into her face and she tried not to “drink the lake,” as her dad would say. She turned the board a little bit with pressure from her feet. Her abs and the muscles in her thighs tightened as she wobbled and recovered.

  All the stress of decorating a multi-million-dollar home, debating if she should fake a marriage, wondering if she could make it to the next paycheck and really succeed as an interior designer, were carried away in the wind along with the droplets of water in her hair.

  Colt glanced back and gave her a thumbs-up. Brikelle got brave and tossed the rope onto the boat’s padded bench. She swayed a little bit, but then she realized she really was in the perfect spot, surfing behind the boat with no rope. She gave another whoop and heard Colt’s deep laugh in response. Pumping the board with her front foot to stay in the right spot, she rode the wave for a long time, loving every second of it.

  She felt herself falling back and within seconds she was in the wake, and then there was no resistance and she was sinking. Exhilarated from the fun ride, she was only slightly let down that it was over as water rushed up to her chin. Colt whipped the boat around and stopped next to her. He hurried to the back of the boat as she set the surfboard on the wooden platform.

  “Thank you! That was so much fun!”

  “It looked like you were having fun.”

  “I loved it!”

  His cheek crinkled as he smiled. “Guess there are some benefits to being married to me?”

  The memory of their two kisses in front of Emma surfaced quicker than the board had popped out of the water when she’d finished surfing. Brikelle’s cheeks burned. She climbed out of the water and sat on the edge of the padded seat, slowly removing the life jacket. Kissing Colt was a benefit she shouldn’t be dwelling on. “So once we break up, do I get fifty percent of the boat?”