One Mom Too Many

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He paused in the act of reaching for his jeans and glanced at her. Then he gave her a long, assessing look. “This is going to be some weekend,” he said quietly.

  Her heart beat faster. “I hope so.”

  “But first we’d better give that puppy some exercise so he’ll sleep a long, long time.”

  “Good idea.” She reveled in the promise contained in Daniel’s intent gaze. “We’ll take him for a walk.”

  THE WOODS surrounding the little cottage were soggy with the wet snowfall that had turned to rain at midday, so Rose decided to keep to the road when she and Daniel took St. Paddy for his first walk. She fashioned a makeshift collar out of a bandanna and found a length of clothesline for a temporary leash.

  They stepped outside into the water-color tight of a New England afternoon and Rose zipped up the ski jacket she kept at the cottage just for such walks in the woods. The pale sun touched oak and maple trees nubby with the promise of spring, and pine branches tipped light green with new growth.

  Rose took a deep breath. “I love the way it smells here.”

  Daniel made a great show of filling his lungs. Then he began to cough.

  Rose clapped him on the back. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure.” He cleared his throat and grinned at her. “I guess fresh air takes some getting used to, after a lifetime of car exhaust and rotting garbage.”

  Rose started down the road, with St. Paddy scampering around at the end of the clothesline. “Have you ever wanted to live in the country?” Instantly she regretted the impulsive question. Far too leading. And she didn’t really want to lead anywhere.

  “I guess living in the country never occurred to me, but I like the idea of vacations here.” Daniel fell into step beside her on the asphalt lane. “I’m trained as a city cop, and I love the work.”

  It was the response she’d expected, yet still she felt disappointed. “I love the country. My mom says I have the heart of an Irish milkmaid.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to keep a cow in the backyard.”

  She laughed. “I’ve thought of it. Or a horse.”

  “Good God.”

  “What? You ride a horse on the job.”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t live in my apartment.”

  “Listen, don’t pull that sophisticated-city-slicker routine with me, Daniel. I watched you with that animal, and you’re crazy about him.”

  “Dan Foley’s okay, I guess.”

  “Excuse me? What’s his name?”

  “Our horses are often named after an officer killed in the line of duty, and Lieutenant Dan Foley died during a drug bust about ten years ago. So that’s my horse’s name. It’s a nice way of memorializing some of our heroes.”

  “How lovely and sentimental.”

  “Cops can be more sentimental than you might—uh-oh. Wildlife at two o’clock. Better hold that puppy.”

  Rose gripped the clothesline as a rabbit hopped across the road in front of them and St. Paddy leaped after it, pulling Rose slightly off balance. The rabbit disappeared into the underbrush as Rose coaxed St. Paddy back and got him headed in the same direction she and Daniel were walking.

  “Judging from the size of those paws, you won’t be able to haul him around like that much longer,” Daniel said. “What did the breeder say? He’ll gain a half pound a day?”

  “Something like that.”

  “At that rate he’ll outweigh you in no time.”

  “I suppose. But these dogs are bred for their good disposition. He’ll just naturally want to please me.”

  “He’s not the only one with that urge.”

  “Oh, really?” A shiver of pleasure travelled up her spine as she paused to glance at him. He looked as irresistibly masculine silhouetted against the darkening woods as he had inside her Irish cottage.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” A breeze ruffled his dark hair. “I figure I must look as eager as that pup.”

  “Think I could teach you to beg?”

  “I think you already have.” His gaze smoldered as he slipped a hand around her waist and drew her slowly toward him. “Kiss me, Rose.”

  “That’s not begging.” Her breath quickened as she moved into the magnetic force that surrounded him. “That’s commanding.”

  “Please kiss me, then.”

  “In the middle of the road?”

  “No, on my mouth. And give me the clothesline,” he murmured, reaching for it. His body was warm and hard against hers. “If you forget what you’re doing and turn that puppy loose, you’ll never forgive me.”

  “What if you forget?”

  “I’m a cop. I’m trained to do two things at once.” Then his lips found hers.

  She quickly realized she couldn’t do two things at once, if one of them was kissing Daniel. Her response to him had always been quick, but now it was immediate. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing against the barrier of their clothing.

  He lifted his mouth a fraction from hers. “I feel like tying this dog to a tree and dragging you into the woods.”

  Her heart was thudding so loud she could barely hear him. “It’s muddy.”

  “I don’t care.” He nipped at her lower lip. “I don’t care if we’re both smeared with mud. In fact, I think I’d like rolling your tender body in the mud. There’s something sexy about ooze.”

  The image fed the fever raging within her. If only he’d fill the aching void deep inside, she’d lie in the mud, in a pool of chocolate syrup, in a vat of whipped cream—

  “Damn!” Daniel released her with a suddenness that made her stumble. He flung down the end of the rope he’d been holding and raced to the opposite end, which was still tied to the red bandanna lying in the road. St. Paddy had escaped.

  10

  ROSE’S STOMACH churned as she frantically scanned the woods bordering the road. No sign of a tan furry body anywhere. And she’d tied that knot so carefully, yet somehow he’d worked it loose, probably to go after another rabbit. She shouldn’t have kissed Daniel, shouldn’t have taken her eyes off that puppy for a minute.

  “St. Paddy!” she called, a catch in her voice. “Oh, Daniel, he doesn’t even know his name yet.”

  “That’s okay.” Daniel crossed to one side of the road and studied the underbrush. “Keep calling. Maybe he’ll respond to the sound of your voice.”

  She gave silent thanks for his police skills, which had trained him to observe carefully. She kept calling.

  He quickly crossed to the other side of the road and examined the verge. “He went this way,” he said, striding through the mud, his boots making a sucking sound as he moved. “I can follow his paw prints, so this shouldn’t be too tough. Maybe you should stay there, in case—”

  “No chance, copper.” Rose plunged after him, although her loafers didn’t work quite as well as his boots and threatened to come off her feet with each step.

  He glanced over his shoulder as he continued through the woods. “Rose, stay there.”

  “No.”

  “Okay, but watch your—”

  “Look out!” she called, a millisecond before Daniel tripped over a dead branch and fell headlong into the muck. She crouched down beside Daniel. “Are you okay?”

  He pushed up on the palms of his hands and spit out a dead leaf. “Man, that was graceful. Don’t you love the country?” His face was so covered with mud, he looked like a character in a minstrel show.

  “You said there was something sexy about ooze.”

  “Thanks for reminding me of that. But I wasn’t planning to throw myself facedown in it.” He got to his feet and wiped the arm of his jacket across his eyes. Then he studied the ground again. “This way,” he said, starting off.

  Rosé followed, nearly losing her shoes in the process.

  Finally he crouched down in front of a large hollow log. “He’s in there, I’ll bet. Probably followed another rabbit.”

  Rose squatted down beside him so she could peer into the black opening.
The loamy scent of plant decay mingled with what she thought might be the smell of wet dog. “St. Paddy,” she called softly. “Come here, little guy. You’re too young to be out in the woods alone.”

  No answer.

  Rose’s stomach twisted with anxiety. “I hope something didn’t get him in there.”

  “Whatever would fit in this log isn’t any bigger than he is, and from the look of his prints, he crawled in under his own steam. He probably just got tired and fell asleep. Let me see what happens when I reach inside.”

  “Yuck. Think of what could be in there.”

  “Country stuff.” He grinned at her. “Country reality, as opposed to country fantasy.”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  “Gently, very gently. There’s still some city girl in you, Rose.” He dropped to his knees beside the hollow log.

  “Daniel, you’re going to get—”

  “Muddy?” He wriggled down until his chest was on the ground before easing his hand into the log. “Now that would be a real shame, wouldn’t it?”

  Rose sighed. “Disasters seem to happen to you whenever you’re around me.”

  “I’m not complaining.”

  “I can’t imagine why not.”

  “Think of the fun we’ll have cleaning up.” He shoved his arm in a little farther. “Hey, pup. Come on out.”

  “Can you reach him?”

  “Can’t seem to. Wish my arm was a little longer. Damn, where’s a superhero when you need him?”

  Rose gazed at him lying in the mud, heedless of his own discomfort as he reached deep into the hollow log. “I’d say I have one,” she said softly.

  “Oh, sure.” He grunted as he tried to get his arm in more. “I’m the guy who demanded a kiss when we both should have been watching the dog.”

  “I’m the one who didn’t tie the bandanna knot tight enough,” Rose said. “I don’t want you blaming yourself.”

  Daniel began to chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Something’s licking my fingers. I sure hope it’s your puppy.”

  “It has to be him! Can you grab him?”

  “Not unless you want me to pull him out by his tongue.”

  “Daniel,” she said, her voice rising in excitement, “just move your hand back gradually. Maybe he’ll keep licking your fingers and follow your hand right out.”

  “He just might. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re very smart?”

  “Thank you. It’s not usually the first thing men notice about me.”

  “Can’t blame them for that, Rose.” He slowly eased his arm out of the hollow log. “You’re very beautiful.”

  “Which doesn’t necessarily lead to happiness.”

  “You sound as if it’s a disadvantage, being beautiful.”

  “In some ways it is.”

  “I’d like to debate that with you later. Okay, get ready. Lean over me and when he sticks his head out, grab him by the scruff of his neck like you did in the car.”

  Rose positioned herself above him. “I’ll be forever in your debt for this, Daniel.”

  “And don’t think I won’t collect.”

  Mud and all, his nearness turned her on. “That sounds very promising.”

  “And you’d better stop whispering sweet nothings in my ear or I’m liable to screw this up.”

  “Right.” She tried to empty all sensual thoughts of Daniel from her mind as she concentrated on the opening where his hand was now buried only up to the wrist. Gradually he drew his fingers out.

  Sure enough, a pink tongue and a stubby snout followed. Rose waited until St. Paddy’s floppy ears cleared the ragged edge of the log before she pounced, grabbing a fistful of dog. St. Paddy squealed in surprise and wiggled in her grip. She wrapped both arms around him, lost her balance and fell backwards into a tangle of bushes. But she kept her hold on the dog.

  Daniel eased himself up and sat back on his heels. “Why, Rose, you’re sitting in a bush.”

  She hugged the squirming puppy to her chest. “If you say that must make it a Rose bush, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of saying that. Want some help with that critter?”

  “Please.”

  He got to his feet and leaned down. “Let me take him so you can climb out of there.”

  She maintained a firm hold on the scruff of St. Paddy’s neck while Daniel gathered the dog into his arms. “Got him?”

  “Got him.”

  He lifted the thirty-five-pound animal without effort. After he backed away she extricated herself, ripping the back pocket of her designer jeans in the process.

  Muttering to herself, she finally glanced up to see Daniel cradling St. Paddy as he might a toddler and speaking to him in a low, soothing voice. For a moment she stood transfixed by the sight of Daniel comforting the dog. He would make a wonderful father, whispered a voice in the back of her mind. If she ever considered trusting a man for the long haul, it would be a man like Daniel. But the timing was way off. He wasn’t ready for a wife, and she was more than ready for a child. Nothing about their lives fit together.

  Daniel glanced up at her and smiled. “I think he’s fine.” That smile found its way into her heart. She could feel it bury itself deep and knew she’d remember the way he looked at this moment—muddy, triumphant and very sexy—for the rest of her life.

  “Let’s go home,” she said.

  THANK GOD the dog episode had turned out okay, Daniel thought. He held St. Paddy while he and Rose stood just inside the back door of her cottage. There she subjected him to the sweet torture of watching her peel off her muddy clothes while his hands were completely occupied hanging on to the squirming puppy.

  In a way it was fortunate that he couldn’t touch her and interfere with her graceful movements as she undressed. Rose had refined the process into performance art, and he felt privileged to be able to enjoy the show. His mouth grew moist and his erection strained against the fly of mudcaked jeans when she stripped down to nothing but her French-cut briefs.

  Once her muddy clothes were off, she went in search of an old blanket to wrap around St. Paddy. She returned with it and sat on the floor with the blanket-wrapped dog while Daniel stripped down to his briefs. Then he carried the dog while she walked ahead of him and started the water running in the claw-footed tub.

  “I want to make sure he doesn’t scratch you,” he said as he carefully lowered St. Paddy into the water.

  She gave him an elfin grin. “Don’t worry. I don’t have any swimsuit sessions coming up soon. A little scratch won’t ruin my career.”

  He glanced at her alabaster skin dusted with freckles. “I wasn’t thinking of your career. I was thinking it would be a crime to mar skin like that for any reason.”

  Her smile faded. “See, that’s what I mean. Men always expect perfection of someone like me.”

  “I don’t expect perfection. I just—” He was prevented from continuing the explanation as St. Paddy started to climb out of the tub and it took both of them to keep the slippery dog inside. “Let me hold while you wash him,” Daniel said.

  She glanced sideways at him through a tangle of coppery curls. “Okay. Listen, I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  Daniel leaned over the tub and got a firm hold of St. Paddy’s chest and hind end. “You’re forgiven.” Shoulder to bare shoulder like this, he’d have forgiven her much worse transgressions, but he didn’t want to let the subject drop, either. “Apparently you’ve been dating a string of men who only care about what you look like, but you’ve just come to the end of that run. If beauty was the only attraction, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Rose used a washcloth on the puppy’s face. “Then why do I get the feeling I’m like a new car and you’re afraid to damage the paint job?”

  His answering chuckle was rueful. “Good comparison. Maybe I do feel that way a little. I’ve never been with someone so...”

  “Perfect? Believe me, I’m not.”

&n
bsp; “Okay, not perfect, but incredibly fragile and delicate.” The puppy tried to get away and he tightened his grip. “Whatever that quality is that’s made you a successful model. It’s intimidating as hell when you get up close and personal with someone who reminds you of fine china.”

  “I don’t want to be treated like fine china!” She scrubbed the washcloth across St. Paddy’s back.

  “You want rough sex?”

  “No. For heaven’s sake!”

  “Okay, I get your point. You want to be treated like a flesh-and-blood woman.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You missed a glob of dirt on his back leg. There. That’s it.” Her nipple brushed his arm and he fought the urge to let go of the puppy and take an armful of Rose. The cotton of his briefs stirred with the beginnings of an erection.

  “I think it’s time I had an honest-to-goodness hickey.”

  Damn, but she had a way with words. “This isn’t the best time to announce intentions like that.”

  “Why not? We’re both nearly naked.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “We’ll be done washing St. Paddy in a minute. I’ve never had a hickey, Daniel,” she persisted earnestly as she continued to wash the quivering pup. “If you gave me a hickey you’d get over this thing about my being so delicate and perfect. You were so afraid I’d get bruised when we made love on the floor.”

  “How do you know?”

  “All those pillows, and holding me the way you did. I could tell.”

  A ferocious ache gripped him as he remembered just what that session on the floor had been like. “Let’s change the subject.”

  “I think I’d like a hickey on my bottom, in the same place you have that sexy bullet scar of yours.”

  “What do you know about a bullet scar?”

  “Your mother told me about it in the tearoom. She said it made you shy around women, which was why you weren’t married. She thought I could get you over that self-consciousness about a scar on your...bum, as she said.”

  “Dear God.”

  She glanced slyly down at his briefs. “I think I have, from the looks of things.”