Train My Heart

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Train My Heart Page 6

by Marian H. Griffin


  She said good-bye with a smile that faded before her brother hung up. Damn you, Brand.

  * * *

  “Damn me,” Brand mumbled as he drove across the causeway to Mimosa Key. He’d gotten his permit a week ago and immediately left to talk face-to-face with his contractor. They’d settled on floor plans, the boat house where the skis and equipment would be stored and the teaching shed outfitted like a Tiki bar. It was going to look great. He’d given Dallas, his contractor, the funds to purchase building supplies and the go-ahead to hire an electrician and a plumber. Everything was coming right along.

  He’d purchased a two-ski trailer for his SUV and had a trailer hitch installed. Six kayaks, a dozen jet skis and a dozen scuba tanks with all the accessories had him well on his way to opening his rental shop. And it had taken five days more than he’d anticipated.

  “Naturally, I’ve alienated one of the few people I know in town. I’m such an asshole.”

  Galli whined from the back seat.

  “I didn’t call myself a dog this time, okay? Just relax.”

  Here he was, driving onto Mimosa Key, in a very bad mood after having a very successful trip to the mainland. Dreading running into Dixie, and yearning to run into Dixie, he drove slowly down the road toward the kennel and his house. He slowed more at the entrance to the kennel. There was a light on in the kennel but none of the dogs were out. And neither was Dixie.

  He continued on to his place. Parking his truck and letting Galli out for a run, he considered how to approach the disaster he had created. He could go over, right now, and test the waters. Is she mad? Indifferent? Teary-eyed?

  No, definitely not teary-eyed.

  Homicidal maybe.

  No matter what, he had to see her and apologize. Unless she seemed okay with how things worked out. She was probably relieved. She didn’t want to get involved with a neighbor any more than he did. It was worse than breaking up with a coworker. Meetings at the mailboxes, noise complaints…yeah, she’d call in a lot of noise complaints.

  “No. She’s a mature, level-headed woman. She’ll be fine with how things worked out.”

  “So you’re back, tail between your legs and slime all over your character.”

  “Dixie!” he said as he turned to look at her. She stood in his driveway, hands on hips and fire in her eyes.

  “Don’t Dixie me, you slug.”

  Homicidal.

  “I guess you’re not glad to see me.”

  “You guess right.” She tossed something at him.

  If he’d been a half a second faster he wouldn’t have ended up with a pair of his underwear in his face.

  “And no, I didn’t wash them.” She spun on her heel and stalked off.

  Astounded at the depth of her anger, he… Hell, he couldn’t claim surprise. He’d treated her like a one-night stand after a late night pick up in a bar. He’d had a couple of those and woke up in the morning praying for redemption and no diseases. He’d been lucky.

  Dixie hadn’t.

  Underwear in hand, he trotted after her. “Dixie!” She kept going. “Dixie! Wait up! Let me explain.”

  She turned suddenly and he slid to a stop so he didn’t tackle her. Although he wanted to.

  “Explain what? How you spent an entire afternoon on my couch, in my bed, in me, and ran like the devil was on your heels when your precious permit came in? Was I that unforgettable? That unimportant?”

  Dismay set in when he saw the tears of anger collecting in her blue eyes. “No! You’ve got it all wrong. That’s not why I left! It was, just, uh…the permit came at a bad time, I guess.”

  “Oh. That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  He took the chance and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned away a bit but didn’t shake him off. “I didn’t—couldn’t—forget you,” he told her as he stroked her cheek. “I had a delightful time that afternoon.”

  This time she stepped away. He dropped his hands.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving town? Why run out the door with a ‘see ya later’?”

  “I had to get the project moving forward. I met with my contractor, bought some kayaks and jet skis and things I need to set up shop. That’s all.”

  “If that’s true, why didn’t you tell me?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not in the habit of reporting to anyone what I’m doing. I don’t need, I mean, I had a lot of things to do if I’m going to open on time.”

  He didn’t like the look of defeat on Dixie’s face. “I handled this badly, I know. But it wasn’t because of you, Dix. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I had to leave town right away. I’m sorry you were hurt.”

  “Yes, you handled it badly but you’re only sorry I made a big deal out of it.”

  What do you do when even an apology isn’t enough?

  “That’s not what I said, Dixie.”

  “Close enough.”

  He thought it over for a moment. “I can’t win this, can I?”

  “There’s no win or lose, Brand. Just honesty. And you were honest enough to tell me, when pressured, that I was simply an afternoon delight until your permit came in.”

  As Dixie walked away, he wrapped his arms around his head and bent over trying to fill in the emptiness inside. He couldn’t get as low as he felt any more than he could make it up to Dixie. He’d treated her badly. He’d turned an afternoon of loving into something cheap.

  And here he was, dealing with relationship-level crises when he wasn’t even in one.

  Galli came up and licked his face. He cupped the dog’s large head and gave him a good rub. “I’m surprised you didn’t go with her.”

  Galli whined, sat down and lifted his paw.

  Chapter Eight

  Dixie risked a runny nose on her walk away from Brand. No way was he going to know she was on the verge of tears. No way was she going to cry. No freakin’ way.

  She sniffed and rubbed her nose. She was far enough away now and only she’d know. Picking up speed, she swiped at her eyes and slammed the door—quite satisfactorily, thank you very much—before she broke down.

  How could he do this to me? She let the cleansing tears flow. She’d held them off all week. She wanted to give Brand every chance to explain. Her eyes overflowed as her heart emptied. It was better to get it all out at once rather than in dribs and drabs. She had no intention of feeling like this for long.

  Why did he do it? She knew he was a good guy. He wasn’t one of those cretins who screwed every woman he could talk into bed. Besides, she’d talked him into it. Hadn’t she? No, it had been pretty much mutual. Had she been seduced against her wishes? No. She’d wanted him from the moment she saw him.

  Hell, maybe she was the cretin!

  A woof at the door had her head snapping around. She went to the door and was relieved to find Dagger there. At least he hadn’t run away this time. He was progressing. Strolling inside like he owned the place, the dog headed straight for the couch and started sniffing. He looked balefully at her over his shoulder.

  “So, I had sex on the couch. It was so long ago I’d forgotten. Sue me.”

  He yawned instead.

  “I’m tired of it too.” She ruffled his ears and sat, very deliberately, in the one chair in the room. Dagger followed her and laid his head on her knee.

  “You can be a charmer. At least when you’re not running hell for leather through the woods.”

  Tracing the marking on his head that led to his name, she considered her situation.

  One. She’d had sex with Brand.

  Two. He left right after, in such a hurry that he left his underwear under her couch. Note to self: best case, he’s a slob.

  Three. She was hurt. He had stabbed her heart with a dagger just like the one on Dagger’s head. “It should be in Brand’s head.”

  Stroking Dagger’s dagger, she sighed heavily. “And four, it’s my fault I’m falling in love with him.”

  Even when in her best interest, she coul
dn’t dismiss his positives. He loved his family, loved the gangly, energetic wolfhound puppy and, she had to admit, loving outdoor sports was never a bad thing in Dixie’s mind. She might have trouble saying it, but she knew Brand would take as much care with the beach environment as possible. She hadn’t protested the second gas station, had she?

  Disgusted with the self-pity, she got to her feet. “Come on, Dagger. Let’s go work on the long leash and practice your recall.”

  The dog got up wagging his tail in crazy circles. She grinned. Dogs and their antics were the best antidepressant in the world.

  Together, they left the house and went to the kennels. Everyone there greeted them as if they’d been gone for a month. Petting, praising and comforting herself as much as the dogs, Dixie got her emotions under control. Too bad she couldn’t get Brand under control as well.

  The forty-five minute session with Dagger went pretty well. He returned to her every time she called or signaled. Until he was off leash. Even though he appeared to pay no attention to it, he knew when he was leashed. She wasn’t amazed at how cunning he was. It always took him two or three days to figure out whatever modification she made to his kennel door. When he finally returned to her while off the leash, she ended on that high note. Continuing with the training, she brought out the other dogs one at a time until she’d put them through all their paces. They were all doing well. She released Blues and called him to heel.

  Happy with her day—Don’t think about it, don’t think about him at all—she went in to check on the website. Blues went straight to the couch and sniffed loud and long. He whined.

  “Keep your advice to yourself,” she muttered.

  There were four requests for training costs which she took care of right away. And now that she was the de facto owner, explained the dog’s human had to participate in the training. Three were reservations for her group class that was starting in a couple of weeks and—shazam!—a referral by Baby’s owner. Now that was a surprise. A good one.

  “See?” she said to Blues, who’d curled up at her feet. “It is a good day.”

  She whiled away her good day by making a decent dinner for herself, scrubbing the kitchen and changing her sheets. She’d changed them several times since Brand was in them but felt she had to change them every few days now. She sighed. She showered. She got into bed. It was 9:30.

  Giving in to the need to review, she purposely brought Brand to mind.

  He was an island resident and a business owner.

  I’m an island resident and a business owner. A kennel owner, completely due to Perry.

  I have four wonderful but annoying siblings and my parents are the salt of the earth.

  He had parents. That’s all she knew.

  He liked water sports.

  I like dogs.

  Rolling to her back, she waved her hands in the air attempting to erase her thoughts.

  “No. I need pros and cons.” She started over.

  Pros. He had known about Mimosa Key and moved there intentionally. I have come to love Mimosa Key. He was fun to be with. I am fun to be with.

  “Whoop dee doo.”

  Con. He walked out on me for his damn ski shop. He hurt me.

  Groaning, she rolled over and put a pillow over her head. Surprising her, Blues jumped on the bed and settled down beside her. “You can stay because…just because.” Draping an arm over his back, she breathed deep and slipped into sleep.

  * * *

  Sunlight tickled her eyelids. She fought to stay asleep but it was too late. She was awake. A split second later she was aware of the warmth of a body pressed against her back. Her dreams surfaced. They featured Brand, beds, couches. They did not feature the most discreet passing of gas.

  Her eyes opened at the small sound. Her mouth closed at the odor. Incensed, she rolled over and looked into the deep brown eyes of her hound dog.

  Holding her breath, she shoved at the smiling dog. “Get your stink butt out of my bed!” Blues stood up and waved his tail in her face before jumping down and stretching. Still holding her breath, she grabbed the air freshener from the bathroom and sprayed it ruthlessly around the bedroom.

  “We are changing your food if it’s going to rot inside you.” She waved a hand through the air. “Now my eyes and throat are burning from the spray.”

  She led the still grinning dog out to the kitchen. Looking around, she realized all the dog food was in the kennel. Despite wearing nothing but a snug tank and bikini underwear, she opened the door to let Blues out and to get his food.

  And came face to face with Brand.

  * * *

  Whoa! Don’t look. Don’t say anything stupid. Smile, you idiot.

  He smiled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He dropped the smile. “Nothing.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  He blinked. And blinked again. “About yesterday.”

  “You don’t want to talk about last week?”

  She was still homicidal and he was scared. And confused. “I’ll talk about anything you want to talk about.” That was good.

  “I don’t want to talk to you about anything.”

  Not so good.

  “Just give me a few minutes, please?”

  “I have to get dressed. If you want to talk, I’ll meet you at the Toasted Pelican in an hour.”

  “My treat for breakfast.”

  “Damn right.” She slammed the door in his face.

  His ears ringing, Brand ambled down the drive with Blues on his heels. The door swung open behind him.

  “Blues! Come on, boy!” Blues shot back to the half-dressed woman like a shuttle launch.

  He shook his head and went back to his place. Galli smelled every place that Blues had even come close to before letting Brand walk past him.

  “We’re going for another walk.”

  Galli leaped and yipped at the magic word. He had Brand laughing by the time he got the head collar on and the leash hooked. He was pleased to see Galli knew he couldn’t just run off with the head collar on. They wandered down by the water and, crossing his fingers, he let Galli off leash. He pranced around like he owned the beach. He also came back as soon as Brand said his name or gave the command “come!” He still didn’t do well with sit or stay but Dixie had promised several more training sessions. She was too good a woman to let his bad performance affect Galli. He hoped.

  Fifty minutes later he got in his car and drove around to Dixie’s house. He punched the steering wheel. Her car was already gone.

  “I should have known she wouldn’t take a whole hour. Probably guessed I’d be back to pick her up.”

  He reversed and headed into Mimosa and the Toasted Pelican.

  All the way into town, parking his car, getting out and walking to the front door, he was busy trying like hell to figure out what he was going to say. He wondered what Dixie would say. Worst of all, he wondered what Dixie would make him say.

  His history with women proved one thing: he was no good at figuring them out. What they would do, what they would say, what they wanted. The letter on his forehead was a big L. For loser.

  So why was he so concerned about making things right with Dixie Rose? Did he want another relationship? And why was she making him think like this? She had the looks and enough compassion to fill the Gulf of Mexico. She was into family and her family held life-long friends. Still. Why her?

  Now he had to find a way to apologize. He had to make it right. If that was even possible. He wanted to spend time with her, get to know her better. Then maybe he could answer, why her?

  The door of the Pelican opened making him step aside. He held the door open.

  “Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” An elderly couple walked out. The man was weathered and bent. The woman was wrinkled and limped. And they held hands like a couple of high school students.

  Because that’s what I want with Dixie.


  Shocked at his thought, he barely managed a nod at the couple. “Thanks,” they said in unison. Brand smiled as they set off down the walkway.

  Stepping inside, he glanced around and saw Dixie sitting in a booth on the right side. As he walked down to her table, he noted her hair was down, she wore a light, summer dress and she was studying a menu. But she knew he was there. He was sure of it.

  “Hey.”

  She jumped and slapped a hand over her heart. “You startled me!”

  Yeah. She knew I was here. Hah! Brand the obtuse strikes again.

  “Sorry.” He slid into the booth across from her. “Anything good on the menu?”

  “It’s pretty standard breakfast fare.”

  “My favorite is waffles and coffee.”

  “Mine is fruit, yogurt and tea.”

  Sighing, he said, “Of course it is.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Nothing.” He raised a hand to catch the waitress’s eye. She came over with a pot of coffee and a cup and teabag for Dixie. The tea was something called Orange Sunrise. He suppressed a shudder.

  “Not a tea drinker, huh?”

  “Black tea, orange pekoe, yes. Orange Sunrise? No. That’s not even tea.”

  She scoffed. Brand held his breath.

  “And I suppose a Caramel Mocha Latte with whipped cream isn’t coffee, either.”

  “You drink Caramel Mocha Lattes with whipped cream?”

  “No. That’s not coffee, it’s dessert.”

  He exhaled and relaxed his shoulders. She was talking to him. He grinned. “At least we agree on one thing.”

  She shook her head, sadly he thought. “I guess one thing is better than none.”

  Shifting in his seat, he extended his hands, palms up. “Dixie. You’re too sweet to not hear me out. I don’t know much about you—yet—but I know you have a soft heart for idiots.” She didn’t lift her head but he thought the corners of her mouth tipped up. Just a little. “I lost myself in you. When we were together, I was overwhelmed. That’s never happened before. When we came up for air, I was, I don’t know, scared I guess.” At that, he hurried on hoping she’d either missed the confession or ignored it. She lifted her head. “When the mayor called me, it gave me something to hang on to. Something solid and familiar. I’ve been wanting this shop for years. I went into finance in New York City to make enough money to do what I really wanted to do. The jet skis, the scuba gear, the kayaks—heck, the roof and the flooring even, are tangibles to me. Something solid so I can prove myself.”

 

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