Authors: Kim Watters
A frown creased her brow as she looked form Rocky to the medium-sized kennel Grant had placed by the reception desk. “I don’t suppose there’s any way it can be tied onto the back of my bike, is there?”
Grant raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sure there is, but by the time we figure it out, it’ll be dark.”
More indecision tugged at the corners of her mouth. “True. Watcha think, Rocky? Wanna ride in the doctor’s car?”
Grant saw her whole demeanor change to what he interpreted as joy as the yellow dog wiggled his body and licked the back of her hand.
“That settles it then,” Sarah answered evenly. “Can it all fit?”
“Of course, or I wouldn’t have offered.” Grant played with his bottom lip. Maybe he could use this time to draw Sarah out once they were outside the office. He wanted to know what went on inside that curly blonde head of hers. “There is one catch though. I want you to join me for pizza tonight.”
Chapter Four
“Pizza?” Sarah’s hand gripped Rocky’s leash tighter. She couldn’t really afford to go out for pizza, and she wouldn’t let Dr. Morrison, no, Grant pay for her share.
“Why not? I’m hungry and I know you must be too.”
Her stomach grumbled at the thought of a loaded pie with extra cheese. How long had it been since she’d had the luxury? “But--”
"I’m sure your day has been hectic.” He cut her off as he glanced at Rocky and grinned. “No. I know your day has been hectic. Come here, boy.”
Rocky bounded toward Grant. Caught off guard, the dog dragged Sarah with him. She released the leash just as Rocky jumped up against Grant’s leg, or she might have joined him in Grant’s arms.
She wasn’t sure being held by Grant would be a bad thing, if he’d do it. No one, not even Mrs. White from her childhood, the only person who’d given a hoot about her before she became a ward of the state, had little time for affection. Sarah had known her old neighbor a lot longer.
It didn’t matter that the look Grant gave her reminded her of her building’s resident tomcat, who had just cornered his prey, waiting to take one delectable nibble after another. Looks and actions were deceiving.
She should know. Too many times people around her, who were supposed to love and care for her, turned their backs when she became an inconvenience. No one would get close enough to hurt her again. She’d make sure of that. Not even the man with the incredibly sexy blue eyes and Cheshire cat grin.
“I can’t. I’ve got to retype the report Rocky ate this morning. Besides, what would we do with him? I doubt the restaurant would let us bring a dog inside.”
His hands stilled on Rocky’s head. “Down, boy.” The searching look he gave her sent a shiver down her spine. “I can’t do anything about your report, but we could leave Rocky here, or kennel him in my van, or take him to your place. I’d like you to come tonight, but it’s up to you.”
The empty feeling in her stomach remained, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since those two pieces of raisin toast this morning, and she didn’t have a thing ready for dinner. By the time she pieced a meal together, it would be late.
Sarah changed her mind. She had to eat to keep her energy up to redo her report. The extra money she earned today in Mabel’s absence would more than cover her share.
“Okay, you win. I’ll go eat with you as long as I pay for my share. As for Rocky, she clapped her hands, taking the dog’s attention away from the bags of food piled in the corner, “he’ll have to get used to his kennel now, but I need some more food for him. I’m sure pizza isn’t on his diet.”
“It isn’t. Let’s get you another starter bag.” A look of relief mixed with anticipation flashed across his features before Grant grabbed a small bag of food from the shelf, and placed it inside the kennel she’d reluctantly asked to borrow when she’d found out the cost of a new one. “Let me show you how to close so we can leave.”
Sarah followed him, watching every move.
“Of course,” Grant continued, “I don’t expect you to remember everything at once. Your main concern is walking the kenneled dogs and making sure all the animals have fresh food and water. I’ll take care of the answering system and the front lights when I come in.”
“You won’t be here?”
“At five? I don’t think so. I don’t wake up until six.” Grant smiled at her before he walked toward the back exit, turning off more lights as he went. “You can manage, but I’ll leave you my cell number, just in case.”
“Why do you trust me?” The words were out before she could stop them. Once voiced, they clung to the air, suffocating all other thoughts. Sarah could have kicked herself. That was why she’d moved to a small town. One where no one knew her past, or her troubles.
Silence fell on the narrow hallway as he turned to face her, concern knitting his brow. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t?”
Sarah hesitated. If Grant ever found out about parts of her past—incidents she wasn’t too proud of, but had to do in order to survive on the streets—he’d send her away. She hadn’t come this far to ruin the life she was making for herself.
Since her last brush with the law seven years ago, Sarah had managed to find steady work, buy a junk car, and keep a roof over her head. Now she was back in school to further her education. Nothing would make her go back to the life she’d put behind her. Nothing. Forcing those thoughts from her head, she crossed her fingers. What Grant didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “No.”
She lied in more ways than one. Right now, she couldn’t even trust herself not to throw herself at him. She clenched her hands to keep from reaching out and feeling his warmth push away the coldness in her life.
Grant pushed it away for her.
“Sarah?” He cupped her chin and caressed it gently. Flames ignited where his touch left its mark on her skin. She struggled for air as the heat consumed her, but couldn’t step away.
For too long, she’d felt nothing.
“If I had any doubts, I wouldn’t be giving you the keys, would I?” he said, leaning closer. His gaze penetrated hers as if trying to read into the depths of her soul. Sarah shuddered involuntarily and closed her eyes to block out his image and rebuild her defenses.
She still couldn’t reach out to him. She’d reached out before—to her mother, her numerous foster parents, her counselors—only to be pushed away. Rejected.
Never again. Maybe he was different from the other. Maybe not. She didn’t want to know.
Whining, Rocky jumped up and nudged at her hand. Easing her fist, she massaged the warm fur on his head. The action brought some comfort. So did the fact that Rocky had stepped between them, forcing Grant to take a small step backward. Sadness coursed through her, though the space gave her room to breathe.
“Come on, I’m starved.”
His words came out a husky whisper, slipping around her shoulders like a well-worn overcoat. One she could get used to but wouldn’t. Her stomach rumbled in agreement as he led her to the back door.
“Here’s where it gets tricky.” Grant stopped in front of the security alarm panel and waited. “The code is six-four-one. An alarm will sound when you open the door.” He handed her a set of keys from the front of his jean pocket. “A beep will sound until you punch in the code. Do you think you can do it?”
As she recovered from the unfamiliar emotions Grant evoked, Sarah frowned. Of course she could. She was very familiar with alarms. Intimate in fact. She didn’t dare tell him she could probably disable the thing in less time then she could punch in his code thanks to her juvenile delinquent foster brother, Jim, in home number five.
As preteens, she and Jim had often escaped out of the house in Oakland to carouse the town without their foster parents’ knowledge. She also knew how to hotwire a car, though she drew the line at theft. Something Jim never learned. The last she heard, he was in jail.
“Sarah?”
She opened the door and stepped outside, Rocky at her side.
Grant picked up the kennel and followed behind her. “You learn quick.” He pulled the door shut, and then used his own keys to lock it. As he turned, another smile lit his lips when he saw the comical scene developing in front of him.
When Rocky had sensed a bit of freedom, he took off running to the nearest bush. Taken by surprise by the sudden jerk, leash in hand, Sarah stumbled behind him. “Rocky, you bad boy. Where are your manners!”
Rocky led her from tree to bush to fire hydrant, marking his territory. Grant had to talk to her again about having Rocky neutered. He knew Sarah wouldn’t let him do the surgery for free, so he’d add it to her bill.
A bill Grant had traded out for her services to keep her close to him. He didn’t have time to mull over that revelation. The pup had caught sight of the stray cat Grant had been feeding in hopes of capturing her for spaying, and took off again with Sarah at his heels. Grant dropped the kennel and ran to help as the feline clawed her way up the tree and clung to an overhanging branch.
“Rocky, stop, you beast. Leave the poor kitty alone.” She struggled to contain him. Rocky reared up, his paws digging in the air, and started barking at the calico mix who stared back unblinking.
Grant stopped and chuckled at the sight when he realized Rocky wasn’t going to drag Sarah across the main street. His laughter died as Sarah turned to look at him. He’d remembered too late she didn’t appreciate his sense of humor and he’d blown it again because of his carelessness. To his utter amazement, she joined him, her laughter washing over him, chasing away his uneasy feeling.
With the onset of nightfall, Grant could feel the slight hint of fall in the air as he approached Sarah and the barking dog. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“What? Rocky, be quiet.” She tugged on the leash, but her dog kept straining for the cat, his bark echoing off the brick building. Sarah was losing the battle.
He reached over and took the leash. “No!” He spoke sternly and pulled back, quieting the dog instantly. “Good boy.” Squatting, he began to scratch the dog behind his ears, then under his chin, before he cocked his head to look at Sarah. “The local pet shop offers obedience classes. You might want to sign up for some training before Rocky gets any bigger.”
“Bigger? He watched her eyebrows rise at the question. “Bigger? And how big is this beast going to get?”
Grant wished he’d kept his mouth shut, but he knew it would be best for Sarah, Rocky, and all the cats in the neighborhood if the dog learned obedience. He continued to pet Rocky, unsure if he should answer the question.
“How
big
is he going to get? What kind of dog is he anyway?”
“I’d say he’s mostly a lab and…” Grant hesitated for a split second.
“And what?” Her eyes shone like fire in the light thrown off by the street lamp. Her hair had taken on a life of it’s own as her bun loosened, creating a halo around her face. Part angel, part devil. He just didn’t know which side would emerge when he told her the truth.
“Part Great Dane. He’s probably going to weigh at least ninety pounds.”
“Ninety pounds?” Why, that’s almost as much as I weigh.” Sarah groaned and put a hand to her head. “Only I could run over a dog that, when he’s grown, is going to be bigger than me. How am I going to fit him into my basket?”
“You’re not.” Grant stood and dusted his pants.
Another silence stretched between them in the still evening. Only the sound of a car turning the corner, its tires crunching against some loose stones interrupted them.
“You knew this afternoon when you made me the offer I couldn’t refuse in order to keep him, didn’t you?” She knelt and hugged Rocky. Grant watched her struggle for calm as Rocky broke free and began licking her face. “You knew I’d fall in love with him and not be able to give him up no matter how big, or how much trouble he got into.”
“To be honest? Yes, Sarah, I’d hoped so. You and Rocky seem right for each other, but my original offer still stands. If you don’t want to keep him, I’ll try and find someone else to take him in.”
Probably myself
. He’d taken a liking to the pup, not to mention the owner. Grant knew he was playing with fire.
“You’re something else. Has anyone ever told you that?” Sarah laughed at the situation. This afternoon she was ready to give her friend up, and now she was planning on taking him to obedience class. Except she wasn’t the proud owner of a dog, but of a horse. Mr. Baxter was definitely going to have a fit—and so was her wallet.
Her stomach whined in protest again. Wallet or not, pizza sounded good with or without Grant. She preferred the former, although she knew it was not in her best interests for self-preservation. “Let’s go. I’m going to need lots of strength to handle him.”
She unlocked her bike and walked toward the only vehicle in the back lot. “A van? You don’t look like a van person.”
Grant shrugged. “I make house calls to some of my elderly patients.
This man was too good, too kind. There had to be a catch. There always was. Sarah looked inside after he disarmed the security locks and pulled back the side door. The backseats had been taken out, leaving plenty of room to stow her bike and Rocky’s temporary kennel among several other kennels lined up against the back wall. He must have noticed that she studied them. “I also work with the town picking up strays.”
Grant never ceased to amaze her. The more she learned about this man, the more she liked him, and that scared her more.
A companionable silence accompanied them as Grant drove to another section of town Sarah had never seen. He parked in front of a tiny pizza parlor, just off the tree-lined street. The name, Tony’s Pizza, written in red neon letters in the bay window, showed brazenly in the night.
“Be a good boy, Rocky, and I’ll give you extra treats later.” At the sound of his sad grunt, she blew her dog a kiss and exited the vehicle before she changed her mind.
“It doesn’t look like much, but it’s the best pizza in Greer.” His grasp on her arm seemed to take on an intimate, almost possessive feel as he led her inside the quaint, brick building with the green awnings. Her heart skipped a beat as she leaned into him, absorbing his strength. For a second, no more. She didn’t need anyone else to ease her pain. But it felt nice, just the same.