Life Shocks Romances Collection 4

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Life Shocks Romances Collection 4 Page 17

by Jade Kerrion


  But it rang again and again.

  Rico swore under his breath and brushed a quick kiss on her lips. “Don’t go anywhere.” He grabbed his phone from the side table and glanced at the number. “Hello? Marie?”

  A female voice warbled on the other end, the words unintelligible. Nicole propped herself on one elbow and studied Rico’s face as confusion was quickly replaced with alarm. Who was Marie? What was wrong?

  Rico disconnected the call and scrambled out of bed, hastily pulling on his clothes. “I’m sorry; I have to go. Emergency.”

  “At the clinic?”

  “No.” He didn’t elaborate. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Sure,” she said. She did not get out of bed but watched his back as he strode toward the door. Big Guy’s eyes followed Rico’s progress, but he did not raise his heavy head from the floor until the door closed behind Rico.

  Only then did Big Guy tug his blankets over to Nicole’s bedroom door. Without waiting for an invitation or permission, he settled down with a contented huff.

  “Are you protecting me now, Big Guy?” Nicole asked.

  The dog’s tail thumped on the ground.

  She was going to miss Big Guy when he was gone.

  And Rico, a small voice said in her head. She would miss Rico, too.

  But that was her choice, wasn’t it? She thumped her pillow. What was wrong with her? She was overthinking the situation. It was an affair, regardless of Rico’s ridiculous optimism that it could be something more just because he wanted it to be so. Relationships needed mutual agreement to move forward.

  The day had been amazing; the sex had been top-notch and the rest of the time had been equally fulfilling. Rico argued; he gave as good as he got and didn’t back down just because she was a snotty lawyer who argued with four-syllable words. He was kind and funny, and he laughed at himself as often as he laughed at her and with her.

  She couldn’t recall the last time she had had that much fun with a man.

  In her mind, she saw the timer, numbers blurred but moving, always counting down.

  Only she could stop it.

  Did she dare?

  Chapter 5

  Technically, the only communication they exchanged the following week was a series of text messages. Rico kicked it off on Monday morning with: Still trying to track down owner. Big Guy okay with you a while longer?

  Her response was immediate and obvious. Sure.

  When she returned from work on Monday evening, though, there was a package on her doorstep. Hand pressed extra virgin olive oil, delivered from one of the specialty stores in Manhattan, courtesy of Rico Vargas. Chuckling to herself, she set the bottle on her shelf, and then took Big Guy out for his evening walk.

  The following evening, a delivery boy dropped off a package of gourmet sea salt. On Wednesday, it was vintage balsamic vinegar. Rico, apparently, was determined to expand her culinary vocabulary. A jar of dulce de leche arrived on Thursday, and on Friday, it was an unpronounceable container of something.

  She caved then and sent him a text and a picture. What’s this that just arrived?

  Authentic tom yum paste. Straight from Thailand. Do not use unless your stove has a heavy-duty ventilator.

  She glanced at her kitchen. Guess we’ll be using it at your place then. Any luck finding the owner?

  No replies to my phone calls. I think we should just take Big Guy over to the listed address tomorrow.

  Something in the region of her heart clenched, but there was only one right answer. What time?

  Anytime you like. Are you free all day tomorrow?

  She had kept her Saturday schedule clear, not consciously, not deliberately, but now she realized she had been holding it for him. Yes. Brunch?10 a.m.?

  Sure. I’ll come by your place.

  Nicole smiled as she set her phone aside. Her plans for tomorrow included sex and dinner, not necessarily in that order, and certainly not limited to once per activity. Big Guy nudged her thigh. She ruffled his ears. “Are you ready for your walk?”

  The dog walked to the door and sat down, his posture one of attentive patience.

  Tears suddenly stung her eyes. Oh, God, she was going to miss him when he was gone.

  On Saturday morning, the doorbell rang promptly at 10 a.m. Nicole swung the door open and was startled when Rico stepped straight into her personal space, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his head against hers.

  His back was tense and stiff, and perhaps because of it, or in spite of it, she softened. “Tough week?” she asked as she stroked his hair.

  “Missed you,” he murmured, and then laughed. The sound of it was ironic. “I can’t figure it out. We really only spent a day together, but I thought about you all week.”

  “Ah, yes. My kitchen cabinet can testify to that.”

  He grinned. “I thought you might prefer them to flowers.”

  “They’ll certainly last longer than flowers.”

  “You’re so practical. It’s mind-boggling.”

  She kissed him lightly, but when he did not allow her to pull away, she sank into a deeper kiss. For a few moments, she would have sworn the ground swayed beneath her even as his arms held her up. “Mmmm.” She stepped back deliberately. “That was nice.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I’d rate that as better than nice.”

  “I know you can do better.”

  Rico’s devilish grin flashed. “Is that a challenge I hear?”

  “I know a great brunch place that can deliver in about 45 minutes.”

  He considered it for a moment. “Can you tell them to show up in an hour?”

  “Deal.”

  “Great. Let me check on Big Guy for a minute.”

  Smiling, Nicole called the restaurant and put in her order while Rico removed Big Guy’s splint and gently probed the muscle. “Good as new,” Rico said. “He wasn’t any trouble, was he?”

  “No, not at all. Walks in the mornings and evenings, and occasionally in the afternoons when I can sneak out for an hour.”

  “You actually come back during the day to take him for a walk?”

  “You may not have noticed, but this apartment isn’t exactly a lot of space for a big dog like him.” Nicole shrugged. “He seems to enjoy his walks, and I do too.”

  Her voice wobbled slightly, and she thought it wasn’t noticeable but Rico’s astonished gaze gave way to a knowing, compassionate smile.

  “You’re going to miss him, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “It’s just a week. I can’t believe how fast he got to me.”

  “Sometimes, if it’s meant to be, time’s not a factor.”

  She squinted at him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re really trying to say something else?”

  Rico’s smile was innocent—too innocent. “Because you have a suspicious mind and you have paranoia honed into an art form.” He made a show of glancing at his watch. “I hate to rush you, but we’re on the clock. The timer’s ticking down.”

  She laughed, not surprised that he had managed to turn her obsession with time against her. A lover with brains and a heck of a body. What’s not to like?

  And each hour, each day I spend with him, it’s harder to walk away.

  He drew her into the bedroom and gave her no time to ponder the answer to her question.

  Fifty-five minutes later when the doorbell buzzed, Rico scrambled out of bed, tossed on his clothes, and answered the door. He returned with two takeout trays. Frowning skeptically at its contents, he set a tray in front of her. “I think you’re a bad influence.”

  “Oh, how so?”

  “I send you exotic sauces and spices, and we still land up eating the equivalent of cheap fast food.”

  She laughed, low and husky. “If you feed it to me, I can promise to eat slowly.”

  They didn’t make it out of the bedroom or the apartment until late afternoon. By then, they had consumed the delivered food and microwaved several instant dinners in between a few rounds o
f great sex. Satiated and relaxed, Nicole looped her arm through Rico’s as they stepped out of the building, Big Guy walking ahead as usual.

  “So, off to the owner’s place?” she asked.

  Rico nodded. “You know, technically, we could close an eye and pretend we made a good faith effort to return the dog. I called many times over the past week and left messages, but Big Guy is a purebred Belgian Malinois, and incredibly well-trained. He’s worth several thousand dollars.”

  “Beyond that, I’m sure someone’s really missing him,” Nicole said. “We’ll do the right thing and I’ll mope later. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No, I’m hopelessly logical, remember? What we’re doing is the right thing. My heart will fall in line quickly enough.”

  “Lucky you. I’ve always had a bit of trouble with getting my heart and my head to agree.”

  “Which head?”

  He swatted her lightly on her upper arm. “Your mind is in the gutter.”

  “You put it there.”

  The compliment made him grin. “Hey, I’m more than happy to shoulder the blame if you’ll help share in the consequences.”

  “When we get back,” she promised. “It’ll give me something to look forward to.”

  Together, they made the trip across town to the address listed on Big Guy’s microchip. As they approached, Nicole studied the dog. Perhaps it was her imagination, but Big Guy appeared to move with more confidence, as if he knew where he was going.

  “I guess he knows he’s home,” Nicole said.

  Rico tilted his head. “Does he?”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “That’s not excitement or anticipation I’m seeing in him.”

  “It’s not? But he seems to know where to go.”

  “Knowledge does not enthusiasm make.” Rico leaned on the doorbell of the large townhouse. As he waited for someone to come to the door, he looked around. “Nice neighborhood.”

  “Pricey,” Nicole agreed.

  Big Guy sat and looked up at the door as it opened to reveal an elderly man. “Yes?” His slower drawl hinted at a Midwest origin.

  No reaction was Nicole’s immediate realization. The man did not react to Big Guy’s presence. She exchanged a confused glance with Rico before saying, “I found a dog about a week ago, and his microchip says his owner lives here? We called, but didn’t get an answer.”

  The man looked down at Big Guy and shook his head. “Afraid he’s not mine. We moved in here about two years ago. It might have belonged to the former owner.”

  “Do you have a name or forwarding address for him?”

  The man’s eyes flicked upward as he hemmed and hawed. “Can’t rightly recall, but I think it might have been somewhere near 5th Avenue.”

  Near where the accident happened. Damn, perhaps she should have put up lost dog posters instead of trusting the information on the microchip. “Do you have a name to go with it?”

  “Now, that I do. I get a few letters here now that USPS no longer forwards his mail. Joe Hendricks is his name.”

  “Great. Thank you. We’ll look him up.”

  “Sure. Sorry I couldn’t help more. Good luck finding the owner.”

  Rico waited until the door closed. “So much for that.”

  “I wonder if it’s too late to put up lost and found posters.”

  “Probably not. Might even be faster than calling every Joe Hendricks in the phone book.”

  “We only need the Joe Hendricks who live near 5th Avenue.”

  Rico nodded. “So, who’s going to do that? You, on top of your busy lawyer job, or me, on top of my busy vet job?”

  “I don’t know.” Nicole’s shoulders drooped on a sigh as they continued down the street, Big Guy walking ahead of them as usual. “I could hire some kid. It’s probably only a couple of hours of work over a weekend or two.”

  “You’re making a lot of effort trying to find the dog’s owner. I thought you liked Big Guy.”

  “I do. That’s why I need to return him.”

  “That made absolutely no sense.”

  “Attachments…” She moistened her lips, trying to put words to tangled emotions and fuzzy thoughts. “They’re just not for me.”

  “Big Guy’s a dog. He’s guaranteed not to break your heart.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. He belongs to someone else. At any moment, his owner could reclaim him, and where does it leave me?”

  He slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed out a hug. “You need a dog of your own.”

  “I don’t have time to take care of a dog of my own.”

  “But you’re taking care of Big Guy, right?” He chuckled. “I’ve never seen anyone get more in her own way than you. You really are your own worst enemy.”

  She snorted, her breath puffing in the chill. “Hardly. I’ve seen the enemy, and it is not me.”

  “Is it men?”

  Rico’s casual question caught her off guard. She jerked to a stop and stared at him. A chill rippled through her, and she tried not to shudder. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just what it sounds like: are men the enemy?”

  She tried for a dismissive shrug of her shoulders. “It’s ridiculous to think that I would consider all men enemies. We’re hanging out together, aren’t we, and I haven’t killed you yet.”

  “Seriously, Nicole.” Rico reached for her hand and held it between his. “I’ve been thinking of you all week. I just can’t seem to stop.”

  “Is that a bad sign?”

  “I don’t know. It’s never happened before. I’ve had many dates, a couple of girlfriends, even one relationship that hovered on the edge of a proposal, but no one has occupied my thoughts as much as you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s probably a case of wanting what you can’t have. I’ve told you I’m not emotionally interested or available, and it’s set off your primitive male hunter instincts. Why can’t you just accept the fact that not every woman you meet is going to want to shackle herself up for life?”

  “It’s not an ego thing; I know it’s not about me—especially when you use words like shackle—but I wonder about you. Something’s hurting, something’s broken inside you.”

  His words were like a finger pressing against an open wound. She trembled at the contact but willpower kept her voice steady. “I’m not an injured animal you can nurse back to health. I know who I am and what I want.”

  He nodded. “That’s why it’s so befuddling. It’s as if there are two versions of you, and I can’t make them fit.”

  “Maybe you’re not meant to try. Women are supposed to be mysterious.”

  His eyes remained fixed on her, his gaze so steady, so knowing, that she had to resist the urge to twitch. What was it about a strong, seemingly compassionate man that made her almost want to spill out the memories and the pain she had locked away?

  Seemingly. Almost.

  She gritted her teeth. Those were the key words. He’s not who I think he is, and I’m definitely not who he thinks I am.

  There is no happy ending here. Not with him. Not with anyone.

  She flicked her glance down the street and forced lightness into her voice. “Shall we grab an early dinner and then head back to my place? The night, as they say, is still young.”

  Rico drew a deep breath. “Sure, but Nicole…”

  She turned back to look at him.

  “You can’t run and hide forever.”

  Chapter 6

  Running and hiding wasn’t Nicole’s style, and forever was certainly beyond the timeline of any reasonable person’s lifespan. She was nothing if not reasonable.

  If she broke up with Rico within two weeks of meeting him, for no reason, other than the fact that he had asked such probing questions, it would certainly look like she was running from him. Besides, the sex was hot, and they had agreed no commitments.

  The logical thing was to allow their affair to continue for a few more
weeks, perhaps a month, before calling it quits.

  The only problem was Rico.

  It started with daily text messages to check on Big Guy—He’s fine—and to get updates on her directory search for Big Guy’s owner—Slow going. The text messages morphed into snapshots of his day and random questions about her life—things like her favorite color, her favorite store, her favorite browser. In all fairness, he gave her his answers to those same questions before asking them of her—damn sneak—but they accomplished what he probably hoped they would. They kept him in her thoughts.

  It became problematic the moment she realized she was smiling at the low buzz of an incoming text message, already anticipating that it would be from him.

  The phone calls began shortly thereafter, usually around lunch or dinnertime. She could hear the noise of his clinic over the phone, and more than once, he sounded harried, but he always seemed to have enough time to chat about the crazy customer he had met that day. Ninety percent of the time, the human owner had been crazy, not the animal. She didn’t talk about her cases; there was nothing she could divulge that would not violate client confidentiality, but it was oddly soothing to hear someone talk about something that had nothing to do with law.

  He called her again one Friday night as she was getting ready for bed. “Are we on for tomorrow?” he asked without preamble.

  “Sure. Brunch at 10 a.m.”

  “Is that sex and then brunch, or brunch and then sex? Should I have a snack before I arrive to keep my energy up?”

  She chuckled as she slid between the sheets of her bed. “When have we ever been able to just have brunch without sex?”

  “Not any time in the past five weeks.”

  Nicole frowned. Had it already been five weeks? The time had flown by, the weekdays kept hopping with frequent calls and text messages and the weekends filled with…by…Rico. She could blame momentum or her busy professional schedule, but the fact was, Rico had made it easy for her to keep rolling along.

  But five weeks?

  She glanced at Big Guy, who sprawled at the foot of her bed. How long did one babysit a dog before becoming its de facto owner? “Oh, about the Joe Hendricks person…”

 

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