Caught by the Sheriff--A Clean Romance Page 16

  “Yeah, thanks. Wet, but okay. The weather was fine around lunchtime, when we went to play with Pepper, so after Nim had her afternoon nap, I thought we’d take a short walk for fresh air and to build my stamina back up before tomorrow’s dog rounds. I started back as soon as I saw that cloud rolling in.” She shivered and her teeth chattered as she spoke. It was strange seeing her in the back seat of his vehicle where people he’d arrested had sat, but it had been the closest door to her.

  “Let’s get you two home.” It was only three more minutes by car, but in a rain like this on foot while pushing a buggy? It would have felt like forever. She started searching through the bag she had strapped across her chest. He headed straight for Eve’s place.

  “I can’t find the keys.” She wiped a hand across her face to dry her eyes and her makeup smeared along her upper cheeks. “I swear they were in here. I didn’t let Nim play with them this time.” She kept digging frantically. Lightning flashed, followed five seconds later by a deafening clap of thunder. He couldn’t leave her at her doorstep in this. Eve wasn’t home yet. He had seen the light still on at Castaway Books on his way home. He didn’t normally take anyone to his place. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror again. She clung to Nim with one hand and covered her eyes with the other for a moment before she resumed rummaging. A diaper fell out onto the seat. Nim was crying louder than the last boom and Faye... She looked like the last drop of rain that hit her had been the last straw. He’d begun to slow as he approached Eve’s cottage, but passed it instead.

  “Don’t worry about it. You can wait out the storm at my place.”

  Faye looked up, full lips parted and smeared face just sad. And slightly emo. Her shoulders sank and she gave up on finding her keys, rocking Nim against her chest instead. Or maybe she was soothing herself just as much. She nodded reluctantly.

  He parked as close as he could to his front door, making sure the side she was on was closest to it, then jumped out and ran around to help her.

  “Here, give me Nim. Leave the stroller. We’ll get it later.” He carried Nim and was at his door in several long strides. Faye followed, running to keep up. He’d have carried her too if he could. He shook the rain off his face. Where had that thought come from? He unlocked his door and stepped in before holding it open for Faye. Getting Nim under his roof had to come first. He was sure Faye felt the same way. He closed the door behind her, still holding a crying Nim. Faye reached out for her as Pepper, whining louder than the little girl, tried gluing herself to the three of them. His entryway wasn’t big enough.

  He took off his wet jacket, hung it on the hook behind the door and took Faye’s from her. She sank to her knees and began slipping off Nim’s. Pepper was all over them.

  “Come here, girl. You’re alright.” Carlos led his dog a few feet away and rubbed her down. She calmed somewhat. “I’ll get you something dry to wear. You’ll swim in whatever I have, but at least you won’t be soaked through. We can toss your stuff and Nim’s in the dryer.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sure the rain will let up any second. Thank you for this. I’m so sorry we’re intruding. I could have sworn I dropped the keys into this bag after locking the door when we left earlier. They’re on a dolphin key chain. Hard to miss.”

  “They’ll turn up. But you can’t stand there all wet like that. You’ll end up with pneumonia. You still have a cough from the cold and you’re shivering. I’ll get some towels and a blanket we can wrap Nim in while her clothes are drying. I can watch her while you change. Sit, Pepper.” The dog sat but stamped her paws nervously.

  “Hey, Pepper, it’s okay. Just a bit of rain,” Faye said, drawing her in and scratching her muzzle and behind her ears. Pepper nudged Nim, who almost immediately stopped crying and began patting her.

  Carlos disappeared into his bedroom and came back with a sweatshirt, drawstring sweatpants, a stack of towels and a throw.

  Faye had Pepper lying down with Nim resting the back of her head against the dog as Faye undressed her. She had them all settled down that fast. He stopped in his tracks and took in the scene. Dog. Mother. Child. In his house. Doing regular stuff like coming in from a rain.

  He swallowed hard and refocused on the stack of towels.

  “Here you go. I’d offer you the shower to warm up, but it’s not safe in a thunderstorm like this. I have some leftover soup I can heat. That’ll help.” He set the stack next to her on a chair and stepped back. “This will keep Nim warm. My mother made it years ago.”

  She took the green-and-yellow blanket from his hands.

  “It’s pretty. And soft,” she said, setting it down next to her and taking the plastic bag of clean diapers and a container of wipes out of her oversize purse. “I don’t believe it.” She pulled out a set of keys dangling from a dolphin and held them up. “I swear I looked and felt around the bottom of the purse.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re here now. It’s not worth going back out there until the storm passes.”

  Faye finished putting a dry diaper on Nim, stood her up and wrapped the blanket around her, tucking it in place near her armpit so it looked like a toga.

  “Does your mom knit a lot?”

  “She passed away years ago. Cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. She’d be happy knowing it’s being put to good use.” He kicked off his boots, reached past her and picked Nim up. “Come here, Pepper.” The dog followed him to the couch and sat next to him. He nestled Nim between them and turned on the television. “The bathroom’s the first door on the left. We’ll start the clothes dryer and brew some coffee or tea when you’re done. Assuming we don’t lose power.”

  She took off her sneakers and picked up the towels.

  “Thanks. You’ve been rescuing us a lot lately.”

  He looked over at her and their eyes locked for seconds too long. Something passed between them. He wasn’t sure what or how. Just that his world had shifted. He cleared his throat and put his arm across the back of the couch where Pepper and Nim sat.

  “It’s nothing. Go on. We’ll be right here.”

  Him rescuing them? He fingered Nim’s red hair, then swiped her cheek playfully. The image of her and Faye with Pepper had him scrubbing his hand across his face. Why, then, did he get the nagging feeling that Faye and Nim were rescuing him?

  * * *

  FAYE TOOK ONE look in the bathroom mirror and was mortified. He’d seen her like this? She wasn’t sure which was worse, Carlos bearing witness to what she looked like when she was sick, or now. She resembled a fallen angel with black eyeliner dripping down her cheeks and hair plastered to the sides of her face. Forget thunder. She was likely the reason Nim and Pepper had been crying. She looked like she’d stepped off the set of a horror movie.

  She ran the water in the sink until it warmed, washed her face and patted it dry before even bothering with her wet clothes. She didn’t have any makeup on her, but he’d already seen her without. She piled up her wet clothes, dried herself and put on Carlos’s sweats. They were way too big on her, and cozy...and much too personal. She drew the waist tie as taut as she could and rolled up the bottoms to her ankles. She looked in the mirror one last time.

  Much better. She looked like herself. But she didn’t feel like herself. She was standing in Carlos Ryker’s bathroom, surrounded by the musky scent of his lingering aftershave and personal items like his toothbrush and sunscreen. And she was wearing his sweats. She closed her eyes and wrapped her hands around her waist. It felt good and safe being here, yet at the same time she knew she was standing in the eye of the storm. The calm before everything would be swept away.

  She took the towel she’d used and bundled her wet pile in it.

  When she headed back out to the living room, Carlos was hiding a crumpled-up piece of paper in his palm and playing “Which hand?” with Nim. The wide-screen that sat on a pine TV
cabinet was turned off. The room was comfortable. Simple as his yard, but not empty or uncared for. Most of the furniture was pine, except for the denim colored sofa and leather recliner. A long piece of driftwood hung over the sofa and a painting of a lighthouse and a boat sailing on the waters beyond it hung on the wall by the entry. The only two items on the end table, other than an iron lamp, were a framed photo of an older couple and one that was a close-up of the woman.

  “I let Eve know you’re okay.”

  “Are those your parents?”

  “Yes,” he said, hiding the paper in his hands behind his back then holding his closed fists out for Nim.

  “Your mother was beautiful. Is your father—”

  “He passed away many years before her. She essentially raised me on her own. With the help of friends.”

  “I don’t know where your dryer is.”

  “I’ll get those.” He jumped up, then realized that maybe leaving Nim on the couch wasn’t a good idea. He put the paper on the coffee table and picked her up. “The satellite went out, so we improvised.”

  “I see. You’re good with kids. Younger siblings?” She was glad that he was carrying Nim. She wasn’t about to give him her pile of laundry. Not with her bra in it. That would definitely be too personal. He led her to a closet at the end of the hall and opened the accordion-style door. A stacked washer and dryer stood behind it. He opened the dryer with his free hand, took out a pair of jeans and threw them onto the bed in the room right next door.

  “Nope. Just me. But I’ve been around enough of Turtleback’s youngsters. Especially during the summer when they’re all running about.”

  She put her stuff inside the dryer, then went to the entryway to gather Nim’s items before starting it. The hall was rather crowded with Pepper, who insisted on standing there with them. Carlos held Nim over Pepper’s back and let her pretend she was riding a horse all the way back to the living room. The guy was a natural.

  “Mo!”

  “More? Well, you have to ask Pepper,” he said. The dog barked. Carlos took Nim on another ride, keeping her supported so her weight wouldn’t bother Pepper.

  Both child and dog seemed to forget about the storm outside. An entirely different kind of storm was brewing inside Faye. She wasn’t a real mother or a dog owner, yet watching Carlos’s horseplay stirred something primal at her core. Instinct, maybe. An urge to have more. Family...children...love? She’d always been content—truly happy—with her independent single life. Until this very moment.

  He set Nim on her feet after the second time around the living room and braced his hand on his hips.

  “Tea or coffee?”

  “Tea, if you don’t mind.”

  He went into the kitchen that opened into the living room and watched the dog and kid as he set water to boil.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Pepper so relaxed and playful. Those two were made for each other.”

  “Nim’s going to be a fellow animal lover. Dogs, for sure. She had a good time with her earlier today.”

  “Did that go well? That reminds me, I need to pay you.”

  She needed money, but mention of payment hit her the wrong way. A jerk to reality. He’d hired her. This whole being here with him and his dog was a result of his sense of duty. Nothing more.

  “You brought us here in a storm and you’re making tea. Forget about the payment.”

  “We had a deal.”

  “Let the deal start tomorrow. We’ll call today a test run. I owe you that much.”

  “Like I said, you don’t owe me a thing, but okay. If you insist.”

  “I do. By the way, can I ask you something?”

  “Go for it.”

  “Is there history between Jordan and Eve? Like did they break up once or something?”

  “There probably should be history but there isn’t. Maybe it was in a past life. Everyone sees how perfect they are for each other, except the two of them. He’s been hurt and is gun-shy.”

  “And she’s independent and doesn’t trust easily.” She understood now. Eve had witnessed too many women escaping bad relationships. That had to have left a permanent mark on her.

  “Maybe that puppy... What’s her name? Shamu. Maybe Shamu will bring them together,” he said.

  “I don’t know about that. She nearly jumped down his throat when he asked if Shamu could help at Castaway Books like Laddie does. We were discussing puppy-sitting arrangements. Oh, speaking of dogs, watch this.” She went over to Pepper and told her to sit, then lie down, then stand, then shake. Pepper performed every command on cue, ending with the paw-to-hand shake.

  “You trained her to do that? Between yesterday and today?”

  “That saying about how you can’t teach an old dog new tricks is a bunch of nonsense.”

  “But in just a few hours?”

  “She’s a smart one. Not all dogs learn that quickly. I discovered she’ll do anything for an ear scratch. Some are food motivated. Not her.”

  “I’m impressed. Floored, actually. And you won’t let me pay you? At least eat while you’re here.” He opened the fridge. “I have more of that soup, some leftover enchiladas—homemade using my mom’s recipe—and some meat loaf and mashed potatoes that Chanda had packed up for me yesterday.”

  The man was good with dogs and kids, protected people for a living and he could cook.

  She was doomed.

  “I’ll have whatever you’re having. Nim too. She loved that soup and I bet she’d go for the meat loaf and potatoes if we give her bite-sized pieces. If you’re sure it’s no bother.”

  “Just remember you said you’d have what I’m having.” He grinned as he pulled everything out of the fridge. The soup, enchiladas and Chanda’s cooking. All of it.

  “Let me rephrase. I’ll taste everything you’re having. That’ll easily add up to a full meal for me.”

  She watched as Nim sat with Pepper on the area rug. She’d taken the crumpled paper and was placing it on the rug between her and the dog. Pepper put her paw on it, then uncovered it, and the two repeated the game over and over.

  “Amazing. Those two. Everyone should grow up with a dog.”

  “Except for you?” He set a mug of tea for her on the table. One of those souvenir types she’d seen in the window of the gift shop. OBX was printed on the side—the accepted and popular abbreviation for the Outer Banks. She recognized it from all the T-shirts and bumper stickers, and the sweatshirt she had on, that sported the logo. She ran the pad of her thumb along the lighthouse on the other side of the mug.

  “Except for me. My parents weren’t into having pets. My mom didn’t want the house smelly—her words—and my dad said it was an unnecessary expense. Neither believed we—I—could handle the responsibility.”

  She left out the part about having a twin. She hoped he didn’t ask about siblings.

  “Wow.”

  She shrugged. She couldn’t argue with his reaction.

  “Yeah. Wow.”

  He placed a dish in the microwave.

  “And you didn’t rebel? You didn’t get one as soon as you left home?”

  “Dogs weren’t allowed in the college dorm.”

  “But after that?” he asked.

  She pinched and fiddled with the material of her sweatpants. His sweatpants.

  “I suppose I was convinced that I couldn’t take on the responsibility. They’d said it so much, it had to have some truth to it. I’d worked hard to make good grades and prove to them I could accomplish things, but if I ever got a dog of my own and failed at managing the care and expenses, especially with getting a job and being out of the house, I’d have been proving them right.”

  “You chose the safe road. Don’t try. Can’t fail.”

  “I guess so.”

  “That’s a shame. You have a way with dogs.” He
set a bowl of soup and a plate with samples of the other dishes in front of her, added his own in the spot at the table next to hers and sat down. “You can feed Nim after you eat. She’s preoccupied with Pepper. Take advantage while you can.” He took a bite of his own food, a sip of water, then leaned back. He frowned and moved his food around, as if considering his next words very carefully. “If I didn’t know better, I would have pictured you owning your own dog training business, surrounding yourself with four-legged friends in a win-win way. Not failing at being a good owner, while proving you can be successful. But, of course, you’ve never owned or worked with dogs. Your ability to control a whole pack of them and to train an old dog with ease is a natural, born-with-it gift.”

  Faye set her spoon down.

  “How long have you known?”

  “Not long. Since the night after bringing over soup.”

  How much did he know? Possible replies and their consequences shot through her mind. He was waiting. She needed to say something or he’d get suspicious.

  “I really have never owned a dog. That’s the truth. I do own a dog grooming and training place. Or did. It has been locked up since I left and I’ll likely have lost all my customers to other businesses if I ever get back.”

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice.

  “The truth. Both of us. I’ll start. I know your last name isn’t Potter. It’s Donovan. Faye, I had approached Eve after I noticed your wrist.” He reached over and pushed back the sweatshirt cuff. The brush of his fingertips against her skin left a trail of warmth she wanted to hold on to. But all he was doing was revealing the marks Eve didn’t believe were dog scratches. “Put ‘Faye Donovan and dogs’ into a search bar on any computer and guess what comes up? You’re public. I knew I had the right Faye because your website has your photograph. Not with the burgundy bob, but definitely you without the makeup. And there were social media links. Very convenient. A person can glean a lot of info off social media alone, even when care is being taken not to divulge too much.” He let go of her hand. “You don’t have a cell phone or use credit cards. Nor have you made any effort to register your car. Faye. I know all about Eve’s extracurricular activities in college. You came here for a reason. She has kept your confidence and has said nothing other than reassuring me that you’ll be okay with her. But I’m not convinced that you feel safe.”