Hot Under the Collar

by Roxanne St Claire

  “I did hear about that,” he said. “Aren’t they cosponsoring the whole event or something?”

  “They’re underwriting Paws for a Cause for PR purposes, but they’re also looking for a new line of organic treats, possibly homemade by a customer who lives in Bitter Bark, since we are the dog-friendliest town in America.”

  “What a cool idea.”

  She smiled. “Thank you. I’m proud of it.”

  “Your idea? Impressive.” Like everything else about her. “Got any more just like it for me or are all the good ideas taken?”

  “Have faith in me, Einstein.” She poked him with a pen. “I always have more. But there are some good ones on the schedule, like the costume contest and parade, the funniest-video contest, and, of course, the Waterford Dog Show, with all proceeds going to Uncle Daniel’s friend Marie, who is starting a cross-country rescue transport business with her niece. But we can think of something, I’m sure. We just have to brainstorm. So, quick.” She snapped her fingers, and Jelly Bean sat up. “Not you, Wonder Dog. You.” She pointed the pen at Braden like it was her sword in battle. “What comes to mind when you think of a dog?”

  He looked down at Jelly Bean, who looked from one to the other, then returned to his nap. “Unconditional love?”

  She smiled. “Maybe something a little more basic that we can turn into a contest. Sleeping? Eating? Sniffing?”

  He gave a sad smile. “Don’t mock my dog’s disabilities.”

  “I’m sorry.” She put her hand on Braden’s arm in sympathy, drawing his eyes to her long, lean fingers and pale pink nails. “If we put him on a hunt for oregano, he’d bring home the…”

  “Basil,” he joked, enjoying her easy laugh in response. “Don’t put him on a scavenger…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but blinked at her, and for three long seconds they held each other’s gazes as their minds clicked.

  “A scavenger hunt!” She drummed excitedly with the pen.

  “There isn’t one on the calendar yet?”

  “Not yet. Every team could have to have a dog,” she said, starting to write. “Who sniffs out the clues. We can call it…”

  “Lost and Hound,” he suggested, making her eyes flash and her smile nearly blind him.

  “Einstein, you are a genius!”

  He grinned at the praise and returned her high five. “But how does that raise money?”

  “Entry fees, for one thing.” She started scribbling like crazy. “And people can sponsor teams. There are professional scavenger hunters who’ll pay up to a thousand dollars to win a big prize, which we can have donated.”

  “A thousand dollars? Then we’d only need ten teams. That’s easy.”

  “Not totally easy.” She jotted more on the page. “Let’s see, we have to set it up, organize it, find a donor for the prize, and promote it, of course. But first we have to get it approved by the committee, which I can do.” She scratched her pen furiously.

  “Do you write everything down?”

  “If you don’t commit it to paper, you won’t commit it to action.” She looked up from the page. “My father taught me that. Said that’s how businesses are run and worlds are changed and nothing gets misunderstood or forgotten. I have at least half a dozen notebooks going at any given time. This project will be one big to-do list, which…” She bit her lip. “Kinda makes me happy.”

  “Good, because a list like that makes me sick.” At her horrified look, he added, “You know what my shifts are like.”

  “Twenty-four on and forty-eight off, right?”

  “With the occasional ten hours a day for four consecutive days,” he added. He shook his head and glanced down at the dog. “And I really, really wanted to work on training with Jelly Bean on my off-hours. Ideally, I could bypass this whole ten-thousand-dollar training program if I could prove to Uncle Daniel that Jelly Bean’s scent issues are temporary.”

  “Explain to me what he told you was wrong again,” she said, putting her pen down and shifting her focus directly to him. “I didn’t get the whole gist of why he won’t sign the affidavit.”

  As he told her about the conversation and detailed his options, Braden absently reached down to pet Jelly Bean, answering Cassie’s questions and appreciating how interested she was, even taking notes.

  As they talked and discussed his options, she also clicked on her phone a few times, googling for information on olfactory problems in dogs and then searching for the closest arson investigation canine training centers.

  “You love to find answers, don’t you?” he mused as she read to him about one not too far away, in-state. “You’re such a problem solver.”

  She laughed. “I told you I’m a woman of action.”

  “You’re like Jelly Bean on a hunt for that one elusive thing.”

  “Nice to know I remind you of your dog,” she said while writing something else.

  He reached forward and put his hand over hers. “Cassie, that is the highest-possible compliment.”

  Her return smile was a little shaky, but real. Almost immediately, she looked back at the phone, tapping it. “Look at this, Braden. This one training site lists all their tests so you can get your dog ready for that certification.”

  “I think I’ve seen that.”

  “I’ll send you the link.”

  “Thanks, Cassie.” He reached for her hand again, constantly drawn to that spark that he got every time they touched. “I could never do this without you.”

  She eased her hand away again, as if the contact was too intense for her. “And I get my non-Greek boyfriend, which will make my Yiayia crazypants until she tells me the truth.”

  “So, she finds out tomorrow? At Waterford Farm’s Sunday dinner? Because I’ll be there.”

  She bit her lip. “I guess we could, you know, drop a few bread crumbs in front of Yiayia.”

  “And your brothers. And mother. And my siblings and cousins and mother and uncle.” He grinned at her. “That’s more like a loaf of bread, not crumbs, Cass.”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes narrowed as she thought about that. “Not sure I can lie to my mother. I might have to let her in on our secret. But, oof.” She made a face. “Then she’ll tell Daniel, and he’ll tell one of his kids, and then it’ll slip out, and Yiayia will know exactly what I’m doing and why. But…” She dropped her head back. “I cannot lie to my mother.”

  “So don’t lie.”

  She gave him a confused look. “I just told you what would happen if I tell her the truth.”

  One more time, he took her hand, curling his fingers into hers tight enough that she couldn’t slip away. “It’s not a lie if we really are dating.”

  But she gave a good yank free. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Why fake it? Be my girlfriend, Cassie Santorini.”

  The flush that crawled up her cheeks was as satisfying as it was terrifying. He braced for her to smack the table with a resounding Are you out of your mind, Einstein?

  But she just stared at him.

  “That way, you wouldn’t be lying and…”

  “You’d get sex,” she finished.

  He shut his eyes with a snort. “Honestly, that’s not what I was thinking.”

  “Then what were you thinking?”

  “Look, you’re out of here in, what, a few months? The minute you get a job in Boston or New York or DC?”

  She nodded, silent.

  “And, Cassie, I’m going to be straight with you. I don’t believe in…permanent things.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Not when someone has a job like mine,” he admitted. “I don’t think it’s right or fair to be in a serious, long-term relationship. My work’s too dangerous, and I refuse to give someone a guarantee of a future. That—at my age of thirty-three?—usually sends women packing after a few dates.”

  She considered that, studying him before asking, “So, what exactly are you proposing?”

  “That we don’t fake a thing. We just give it an expirat
ion date.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Anything ‘real’ almost always comes with connections and plans and trust and intimacy that will lead to…side dishes and detoured dreams. And I won’t let you do that, Braden. I won’t.”

  He heard the vehemence in her voice, and that just made him more certain this was a good idea. “Then we both agree it’s temporary. Nothing will be detoured, I promise. Go ahead…” He pressed her hand to the notebook. “Write that down and make it so.”

  But she didn’t, still studying him. “And side dishes?”

  “They can be on or off the table, Cass. You’re the one setting it.”

  She shot up a dubious brow. “Do you seriously think we could date for real, spend any amount of time alone with each other, and not…” She swallowed. “Repeat that kiss?”

  No. Not for a minute. “We could try.”

  “Then what difference does it make if it’s real, fake, or temporary if there’s no sex?”

  “Because I’m not a fan of lying, either,” he said. “So be my temporary girlfriend, and let’s just have a little fun before you blow out of Bitter Bark.”

  “Fun?”

  “Could be.” So much fun.

  Her lips curled up just enough to give him hope. “I’ll let you know tomorrow at Sunday dinner.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Seven

  Cassie knew what her answer would be long before she arrived at Waterford Farm the next day. Simple, straightforward, uncomplicated…no.

  There was absolutely no way she’d let herself consider Braden’s suggestion. Make this real? Was he nuts? Real would be dangerous. Real would be risky. Real would mean he’d tug on her heart and slip off her clothes and slide into her life and make her give up her dreams.

  You fall for a firefighter, and you fry.

  Holding that thought, she climbed out of her car, taking inventory of who’d already arrived at the weekly festuche they called Sunday dinner at Waterford Farm. Oh yeah, pretty much everyone was here from all three contingents.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the event—the Kilcannons could toss back Bloody Marys like pros, and there was always something fun planned, like ATV rides or meeting a whole new set of puppers that had arrived for training or rescue. Cassie had easily found like-minded friends with Darcy Kilcannon and Ella Mahoney, the sister-close cousins who were her age, and she always managed to steal her mother away from Daniel long enough to catch up on life.

  The food had left a lot to be desired in the early days, when Daniel and Gramma Finnie were in charge of cooking, but now that the Santorinis were included, the menu had improved—and gotten more Greek—every week. Her brother Alex frequently cooked and always brought sides and desserts from Santorini’s, which closed after brunch on Sundays.

  In addition to the oodles of Kilcannons and their spouses and significant others, there were the cousins. Colleen Mahoney, Daniel’s sister, though quiet, had a sweet, calming influence and, like Gramma, knew all the secret stories that the old house had to tell. Her three sons were scarce due to fire station shifts, but when Braden was there, the whole day had a slightly more magical feel.

  Which was why she could not, would not, let this little idea of hers snowball into something real, even if he wanted to label it “temporary.” And she’d tell him they needed to bag the whole plan today. There had to be another way to coax the truth out of Yiayia.

  “Hello, baby girl.”

  The minute she saw her mother step out of the kitchen door onto the wraparound porch, Cassie felt good about her decision. She couldn’t lie to Katie Santorini if her life depended on it. But what if Yiayia’s life depended on it?

  “I was starting to wonder if you weren’t coming.”

  “Hey, Mommy.” She slipped into her little girl name mostly for giggles, but also because it bonded them. “Did the Irish folk start drinking without me?” She pointed to the side of the house, where the porch spread to a large deck, the noise telling her they were all out there talking and toasting.

  Her mother laughed, a sound that Cassie was still getting used to hearing on such a regular basis. The years nursing Dad had been hard on her, and laughter had been rare. And just when Mom started to emerge from a fog of recovery and grief, there was the shock of that DNA test that revealed her oldest son was not Nico Santorini’s, but the son of a young vet student she’d dated briefly in college.

  And while he and Mom tried to figure out how to break the news to Nick, who was currently in Africa with Doctors Without Borders, Cassie had to lie to him when he’d asked repeatedly about the results of the tests. Just those few moments on the phone had gutted her because Cassie didn’t have a lying bone in her body.

  So the sooner she told Braden the deal was off, the better. She’d still help him with the scavenger hunt, which was all he wanted in the first place. Well, not maybe all he wanted, but it would have to be enough.

  “You look great, Mom,” Cassie said as her mother crossed the porch, her dark hair swinging around her chin and her sweet brown eyes dancing. “Like you were born to live in this gorgeous place.” Cassie gestured to the rambling yellow farmhouse and the hundred acres of rolling hills around it.

  “That’s because I’m so happy and in love.” As Mom gave her a hug, she squeezed extra hard and put her lips close to Cassie’s ear. “But newsflash. Impostor Yiayia is here in full force. She baked, Cassie.”

  “That’s not unusual.”

  “And brought handmade presents for babies, born and yet to arrive. And…” She leaned back to finish. “She handed me a bag of fresh lemons because she remembered I love lemonade in the summer.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “I know,” Katie said. “It’s so thoughtful.”

  “Downright scary,” Cassie agreed, making a face. “Anything else?”

  “Oh, I saved the best for last. She’s talking nonstop about you and Braden. How you’re going to do a fundraiser together. And surely you’ll bid on him at the bachelor auction. The next thing you know, she’ll have you two dating.”

  Cassie stared at her. “That would be…”

  “Crazy, I know. As if she’d approve of anyone for you who isn’t Greek.” Of course her mother understood that about Yiayia. “What do you think she’s up to?”

  “No good,” Cassie said. “I confronted her, but she wouldn’t come clean.”

  “Do you think she’s—”

  “Hey, Cassie.” Daniel came around the corner, wearing the same expression of happiness and contentment that his bride-to-be had, giving Cassie a hug, but immediately draping his arm around Mom’s shoulders. “Great news about the fundraiser with Braden.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Although, I don’t want you to get his hopes up too high.”

  “How’s that?” she asked, wondering if she’d already done that. “I really think a scavenger hunt with dogs could raise the money he needs.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” Daniel said. “But I believe there’s a strong possibility that something’s wrong with Jelly Bean’s olfactory system, and training won’t fix it. I’m afraid our boy is in a little bit of denial.”

  “Well, Jelly Bean almost threw me down for having oregano in my pocket,” she said with a sad smile. “So he can smell.”

  “But that proves he can’t discern. Training might fix it, but I’m not sure. I’d hate to see Braden be disappointed.” Daniel added a look she couldn’t quite interpret. “You know he’s had a lot of that lately.”

  Ah, yes, Simone. Except he didn’t seem very destroyed over that breakup, at least not to Cassie.

  “Cassandra!” The next arrival to the porch party managed to suck all the oxygen and fill all the space, even though her body was quite a bit smaller than it used to be.

  “Hi, Yiayia,” she said, glancing at the glass of water with lemon that she held. What was up with that? Real Yiayia would never miss a chance to day-drink. “I heard you’re showering the fam with pre
sents.” She added just enough of a look so that the woman would know Cassie, for one, wasn’t fooled.

  “And I have a little something for you.” She started to gesture for Cassie to come into the house, then stopped. “Oh, how rude of me. I didn’t mean to cut in on this conversation.”

  As if she weren’t the Queen of Ill-Timed Interruptions. “No, it’s fine, Yiayia, I’m just—”

  “Braden’s here,” Yiayia said, waggling her eyebrows like a lunatic, which made Daniel laugh.

  “And I thought I was pushy,” he joked.

  “Oh, your days are over,” Yiayia said to him. “There’s a new matchmaker in town.”

  That made Daniel chuckle. “Well, have at it, Yiayia,” he said, giving Mom a squeeze. “We keep forgetting about that while we’re planning our own wedding.”

  “But, Yiayia,” Mom’s eyes narrowed in skepticism, “haven’t I heard you say a thousand times that our Cassie is going to fall in love with a man exactly like her father?”

  “Strong, smart, loving, funny, and capable?” Yiayia shot back. “Check, check, and check again.”

  “And Greek?” Cassie added.

  Yiayia shrugged. “Some things are more important than nationality.”

  On what planet? Cassie’s jaw darn near hit the porch.

  But she contained her reaction and let it fuel her, giving her grandmother a fake smile and mentally drawing her sword. Oh yeah. A bluff needed to be called. And hard.

  She glanced at her mother. Yes, lying to her was impossible, but she had to fool Yiayia, which meant she had to fool everyone. Which meant…she couldn’t lie.

  This had to be real.

  “Hey.”

  They all turned at the sound of Braden coming around the corner. She tried not to react at the sight of him, not to notice how his eyes were the same color as the blue chambray button-down he wore, or how strong his forearms looked in the rolled-up sleeves. And just forget those shoulders.

  Those shoulders alone could make a girl say yes to all kinds of trouble.