Tucked Away

by Jennie Marts

  She held her breath as his arm crossed in front of her, the scent of his woodsy aftershave enveloping her. The side of his body pressed against hers, and his hand still sat atop hers as he continued to soak the dog’s fur.

  “That’s a good dog. You’re okay, darlin’.” She was close enough to smell the mint on his breath as he spoke softly to the dog. “Charlie, we need to get this shampoo rubbed into all of her fur. Just be gentle in case she’s bruised up, and watch to keep the soap clear of her stitched up ear.”

  She released her breath and set to the task of shampooing the dog. Their hands massaged the lather and soapy water into the dog’s fur, and each time their fingers touched, she felt an electric tingle move up her spine. Zack’s mouth was way too close to her ear when he spoke to the dog, and the word darlin’ had her melting like chocolate in the warm sun. Who knew giving a dog a bath could be such a sensual experience?

  Just friends, she reminded herself. Just friends.

  Despite the warm water, the dog began to shake. Her heart broke at the sight of the pathetic-looking wet dog shivering in the stainless steel sink. “Oh, poor baby. Is she cold or scared?”

  “Probably a little of both. She really responds to the singing. It calms her down. Wanna give it a try?”

  “Me? I can’t sing.”

  “Of course you can. Everybody can sing. What’s a song you know most of the words to?”

  She searched her memory for the last song she could remember singing out loud. She flashed on a picture of herself belting out a tune with the car radio on her way to Montana, the Badlands of Wyoming rolling along outside her windows.

  The radio had been tuned to an oldies station, and that song had always been one of her mom’s favorites. Charlie could remember singing the song with a feeling of freedom and the excitement and fear of the new life that could possibly be ahead of her. “Joy to the World,” she blurted out before she could stop to think about her answer.

  Zack let loose a loud burst of laughter, startling both her and the black and white dog. “Okay. Taking it old school. I was expecting Katy Perry or Taylor Swift. Maybe a little P!nk, but we can work with this.”

  Charlie blushed as she remembered crossing the New York border, leaving memories of Stuart and his red-heeled lover behind, as she sang the lyrics to her new anthem by the sassy blond-haired singer. Something about still being a rock star and I’m fine and you’re a tool. Yep. That was her song all right.

  Smiling at the memory, she watched as Zack rubbed the dog behind her ear and began to croon in a deep, slow voice. “Jeremiah was a bull frog. He was a good friend of mine.”

  The dog cocked her head, her beautiful brown eyes gazing at him from her black and white face. “See how she’s settling down? You’d better join in.”

  Her inhibitions melted away as she felt the dog’s heart beat slow under her hands. Coming in a little weak to start, she picked it up by the time she hit the chorus. “But he always had some mighty fine wine. Singin’ joy to the world…”

  As they sang, they rinsed and massaged the shampoo from the dog’s fur. The previously brown and bloody water now ran clear as it pooled and swirled down the drain.

  Zack motioned for her to grab a towel from a stack on the counter. As she moved from him to reach for a towel, she immediately missed the warmth of his body contact. She grabbed a couple of towels and came back to his side as they rubbed the dog dry.

  Resuming their impromptu concert, they laughed as she hit her gusto on the last chorus, belting out the lyrics, and the dog tilted her head back and howled along.

  She felt happy as Zack took a dry towel and wrapped the dog in it. Picking her up, he carried her to a steel kennel in the corner of the room.

  Seeming to mirror her feelings, Zack laughed as the dog licked his chin and nuzzled into his arms. “I think she either likes your singing or she’s just a fan of Three Dog Night.” He set the dog inside the kennel, leaving her wrapped in the towel for warmth as he cracked up over his own “canine” joke. “Three Dog Night, get it?”

  “Yes, I get it.” She took the dog dish he handed her and filled it with cool, clear water. “I’m not sure you should quit your day job yet, though.”

  She passed him the water dish, and he set it in the kennel as he spoke sweetly to the dog. “Well, you think I’m funny, don’t ya, girl? You liked the bullfrog song, didn’t you? You liked the way Charlie sang Joy to the World, didn’t ya, darlin’? In fact, I think we will just call you Joy. What do you think of that?”

  He looked up at her from his crouched position on the floor by the kennel.

  “What do you think of that, Charlie? Should we call her Joy?”

  She gazed at the dog, watching her pink tongue lap at the water in the dish. Her torn ear folded back, the stitches evident against the pale skin of her inner ear, and Charlie’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” Zack stood and pulled her into his arms, employing the same gentle voice he had used to calm the dog.

  “I told you, I’ve never had a pet. I didn’t know they could have so much…personality, I guess.” She spoke into Zack’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist and her hands resting against his muscular, lean back. “She’s so sweet. How could someone abandon her? Just throw her away like yesterday’s trash?”

  She swallowed hard, recognizing this feeling of abandonment. How could Stuart have taken the feelings she had offered him and thrown them away, treated them like fast food wrappers he pushed aside as he reached for something new and shinier?

  She tilted her head back to look into Zack’s eyes. “What’s going to happen to her?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll keep her here the next few days and see if anyone claims her, then probably take her over to the shelter.”

  “But how can you afford to keep her here? Who’s going to pay the vet bills?”

  “What vet bills? All I did was give her a few stitches.”

  “And a bath and a warm place to stay, and most likely food, and, of course, your time.” She hated the way she reverted to her life experience in the city where no one gave anything away for free.

  He smiled down at her. “She’ll only eat a few scoops of dog chow, and the crate was empty anyway. Charlie, the only thing of value I have to offer is my time, my heart, and my willingness to help something, or someone who needs me.”

  I need you. I need you so bad. She was going to drown in the pools of his chocolate-colored eyes. The intensity with which he gazed at her had her body heating, and she could feel each beat of her heart. She was sure he could feel it as well as her chest pressed against his, her arms unwilling to loosen their hold around his waist.

  “I’ve never met anyone like you.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

  “I’ve never met anyone like you, either.” He spoke softly, and she could feel the deep timbre of his voice resonate through her body. “I’m not a big believer of Fate or any of that woo-woo stuff, but Charlie, I swear I felt something for you the first time I met you. The minute I looked up and saw you wearing those high-heeled boots and carrying that big old purse, you looked so out of place, but my heart told me there was something special about you.”

  She looked away, a flush creeping up her already heated cheeks. She was used to Stuart treating her like a business transaction, scheduling lunches and time for sex in his Outlook calendar. This man had just told her she affected his heart the first time he saw her. How could she respond to that? “I was a mess that day.”

  Zack took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to his. The sincerity in his eyes spoke more clearly than his words. “You looked beautiful.”

  He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. She tried to control the shiver that ran from her lip down through her body, heating her blood as well as her cheeks.

  “You are beautiful. I know we haven’t known each other a long time, but every time I’m near you, I get all nervous, and my hands start to sweat, and I feel like my heart is gonna bea
t out of my chest.”

  She gripped handfuls of his shirt as she tried to process his words. She didn’t know how to take this raw display of emotion. Where were the guarded expressions and the sneers of condescension that usually accompanied talk of feelings? She heard Zack’s words with her ears, but he was speaking them directly to her heart. “I feel the same way.”

  Without taking his eyes from hers, he leaned down and tenderly touched her lips with his. Tendrils of heat snaked through her skin as her body filled with want and need.

  She clutched his shirt tighter as he drew her closer to him and kissed her again. His lips were warm, and he tasted of the mint she’d smelled earlier. His fingers moved down her back, gentle and caressing.

  The kiss deepened as his hands cupped her bottom and lifted her onto the counter. Ignoring the stack of towels and canister of dog treats behind her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, lost to everything except this man’s touch.

  His lips parted, and his tongue sought hers. She nipped gently at his bottom lip and was rewarded with a deep groan escaping his throat. His hand twisted in her hair, and he pulled her tighter against him. “God, I want you.”

  His words were soft against her ear but proven by the hard maleness pressed against her as she squeezed her legs tighter around him.

  He trailed kisses down her throat, feasting on her skin as if she were manna from heaven. She tilted her head back, surrendering her skin to him as she clutched his back.

  His lips moved from her neck back to her mouth, leaving a path of heat and desire in their wake. Then his mouth was on hers again. His fingers dug into her back as he tightened his hold on her.

  He kissed her with the passion of a starved man who’d just been offered a meal. He consumed her with his lips. She reveled in the feeling and met him with the same display of passion and need.

  Her breath caught as his hand skimmed her ribs and cupped her breast. She hadn’t felt this level of desire from a man in so long. A fire burned low in her as her muscles clenched with yearning. Stuart had never held her this tight or kissed her this fiercely. Stuart. Oh. No.

  She pushed back from Zack, gasping for air, her hands against his chest. She had to think. Guilt washed over her. She was no better than Stuart’s harlot. “I can’t.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Zack, what about your wife?”

  “My wife?” A look of innocent confusion crossed his face. “What about her?”

  Shame slammed into her like a head-on collision with a brick wall. What about her? Was that what Stuart had thought about me when he was screwing his secretary? What about her?

  “I can’t do this.” She pushed against Zack and slid down from the counter. She had to get out of this place.

  “Charlie? What’s wrong?” he asked, but she was already grabbing her purse and running down the hall. She pushed through the front door, and the hot Montana summer air hit her as hard as the regret churning in her stomach.

  …

  Charlie lay across Gigi’s big bed, her head buried in the pillow, her eyes swollen from crying. Bonnie was curled at her side, and she felt a rush of love for the cat who’d left her kittens for a few minutes to offer her some comfort.

  Her eyes burned, and gray smudges from her mascara streaked across the stark white pillowcase. She wiped at the smudges as she thought about the emotions that had poured out of her, from the lost hope of a romance with Zack, to her own inability to be enough for a man who told her he loved her and wanted to marry her. There had been other relationships before Stuart, some that she had ended and some not.

  But no man had ever proved to her that he had the staying power that even her own father lacked. If she dug deep enough, she would probably admit that some of those tears were also for that father—the one who was supposed to love her unconditionally and who didn’t care enough to ever send a birthday card.

  And she cried for the woman who gave birth to that man. For the grandmother who loved her even though she had never met her. She’d originally been spooked by the idea that Gigi’s spirit was there with her. But, as she cried that day, she had felt oddly comforted that her grandmother could still be here, watching over her.

  Could she really feel Gigi’s spirit there with her? Another lump formed in her throat as she wondered if someone had loved her enough to not leave her. Even in death.

  Tentatively, she sat up and called out into the room, “Hello? Mrs. Tucker?” Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

  The cat stood and stretched as Charlie cleared her throat and tried again.

  “Hello? Are you there? Grandma Tucker? Gigi?”

  She leaned forward and strained to hear a response. Where’s a Ouija board when you need one? The cat meowed and stared intently at the rocking chair by the window.

  A shiver raced down her spine. Her eyes widened as her purse slid from its perch on the rocking chair and hit the floor, the noise deafening in the quiet room.

  Her heart hammered in her chest. An extra stab of pain hit her as she surveyed the contents on the floor, a round lip gloss rolling to a stop against the stethoscope she hadn’t had a chance to return to Zack.

  She looked at the cat, as if it might tell her if the purse fell on its own or had been pushed by an ethereal hand.

  The sound of the front door being flung open had the cat leaping from the bed as Charlie let out a small shriek.

  “Charlie. Where are you? You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  She scrambled off the bed and stepped into the living room to face a wild-eyed Cash, his fists bunched in anger. “What’s going on?”

  “There you are. What the hell are you thinking? I heard you met for lunch with that weasel, Wayne Roberts. Are you trying to make a deal with him behind our backs? Don’t you know you’re messing with people’s lives here?” He advanced on her, his boot steps loud on the hardwood floor.

  She cringed and leaned back, raising her hands in defense.

  His face went ashen. “What are you doing?”

  She lowered her hands.

  A stunned look crossed his face. “Geez, did you think I was going to hit you?” He looked down at his clenched fists and immediately loosened them. “Charlie, I may get mad, but I’m not a monster. I would never hurt you. Or any woman.”

  “You scared me,” she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

  He stepped toward her and pulled her into a hug. His chin rested on her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I went into town to run some errands, and I heard from five different people that you’d been seen having lunch with the Railroad guy, and it got my dander up.”

  Ugh. Small towns and their gossip mills. Even after her attempt at damage control, she’d bet those old ladies hadn’t kept their mouths shut for ten minutes.

  He chuckled. “I also heard you made a new friend. Cherry told me to tell you to call her over at the diner if you ever want to get together and do girly stuff. Whatever that means. I’m guessing wine coolers and doing each other’s nails.”

  He leaned back and tipped her head up to look at him. His eyes changed to a look of concern as he apparently just noticed her puffy eyes and red, swollen nose. “Hey, what happened? Have you been crying? Did that Wayne do something to upset you?”

  Charlie sighed. She knew a few tears could add a feminine prettiness to her face, but a full-on crying jag did nothing to add to her attractiveness. “I’m okay. And it wasn’t Wayne. It was something else. Everything else, actually.”

  He raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth closed, apparently waiting for her to explain what “everything” entailed.

  She wasn’t ready to spill her romantic woes to this handsome, flirty cowboy, who even in the spirit of a friendly embrace had his hands resting low on her hips.

  Now aware of her body pressed against the hard leanness of this man, she squirmed and looked up to see that sly, knowing, big-bad wolf grin cross Cash’s face.

  Playfully punching him i
n the chest, she broke the embrace and turned to the refrigerator for some bottled water. “For your information, Mister, I was NOT having lunch with Wayne Railroad today. I was having lunch by MYSELF, and he sat down at my table. He also wrote a very large number on a napkin for me to consider. I didn’t know the offer on the farm had that many zeroes.”

  The sly look turned to one of questioning. “And are you tempted by all those zeroes? Are you really thinking of selling Gigi’s farm?”

  “No, I’m not planning on selling. I just didn’t know that much money was on the line for this place. It makes me wonder, if they’re willing to offer that much money, what else they would do to get their hands on this farm.”

  Chapter Six

  The last week had gone by in a blur. Sophie had come out one day and taught her how to make an apple pie. They’d had fun rolling the dough, chopping the apples, laughing about boys, and talking about makeup and clothes.

  The teenager hung on her every word and loved to hear stories of New York and what it was like growing up there. With Sophie’s guidance, they’d produced a fairly decent pie. Cash and Buckshot gave it their approval when they’d taken a couple of pieces out to the barn for them.

  One afternoon while washing the dishes, her hands submerged in warm soapy water, Charlie’s thoughts had turned to Gigi, and she realized she’d never heard the story of how she’d died. She watched the teenager dry a cooling rack and figured she was probably the easiest to get information from. “Hey, Sophie, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” Sophie picked up a cookie sheet, letting the excess water drip from the corner before running the towel over the surface.

  “I know that Gigi passed away a few weeks before I got here, but I never heard how she actually died. Do you know?”

  “Of course I do. It was awful. I’d just seen her that morning. We’d made plans for me to come over that weekend and help her put up some jam. But that afternoon, she fell down the stairs. Cash is the one who found her that night.”