Kate sighed. “You’ve created a monster. Down, Stella.”
The dog grudgingly obeyed, but stayed close to Matt.
SEVENTEEN
For about the tenth time since Wednesday poker night, Kate tripped over a pair of Matt’s shoes… and it was only Friday. Why would a guy think it was smart to drop his shoes exactly where he’d taken them off? He had big feet, too. And many, many pairs of shoes.
Kate picked up the latest pair and chucked them just to the left of his closed bedroom door, where they joined a bunch of their kin.
“If you want to develop a shoe-eating habit, I promise I won’t say a word,” she told Stella. “It would be a good payback for Matt getting you hooked on potato chips.”
The dog was now a serious chip junkie. Even though she’d gotten sick on them, she still sat longingly in front of the pantry cabinet, where Matt always kept his stash.
Kate’s poodle had food issues on another front, too. Stella had been raised with an open supply of food. Kate would put kibble in her bowl in the morning and the poodle would graze at will. But now, the second Kate filled Stella?”0el a had9;s bowl, glutton Chuck appeared, excited as if Thanksgiving had come around yet again. The instant Kate looked away, the chow was gone in one gulp. Chuck did not believe in chewing.
As though he knew Kate was thinking about him, a bark rolled into the hallway from the living room. And then another. These weren’t excited sounds, more expository statements.
Kate joined Chuck in front of the fireplace.
He had barely lifted his head from his napping position.
“What?” she asked him.
Kate looked at Stella, who had followed in her tracks. “You speak dog. Tell him to stop.”
But Stella couldn’t be persuaded to negotiate, and Chuck had no intention of stopping.
“Okay, Lassie. Did Timmy fall down the well again?”
“Am I the prettiest princess in the land?”
Kate could have played her game awhile longer, but Chuck’s hound bark was beginning to make her teeth rattle. She walked through the kitchen and on to the basement door, which was by the house’s back entry. Stella stood at the back door and stared expectantly at her.
“Okay, you first, then I’ll deal with the big dog.” She stuck Stella on the outdoor lead that had been brought over from The Nutshell, and headed back inside.
“Matt?” she called.
He was downstairs working out, a daily event. She heard the whine of a treadmill going at warp speed, but no word from Matt.
“Hey, Culhane!” she yelled, cupping her hands to either side of her mouth.
“What?”
“Your dog needs you.”
The treadmill’s hum lowered as he brought its speed down, then stopped entirely.
“See? Like that,” she said as he climbed the steps.
When he made the top, Kate was transfixed. He used his right hand to wipe sweat from a six-pack of abs so hard she wanted to trace each ridge with her tongue. Twice.
His smile was slow and knowing. “You probably should let me by.”
“He’s just lying there, barking,” she said.
Matt moved past her, close enough that she could catch the heat rolling off his body… though it just might have been hers.
Kate followed him to Chuck.
“What’s up, buddy?” he asked the dog.
“What’s he barking at?” Kate asked.
“He’s barking
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“You think? Come with me to the kitchen.”
Kate trailed after him. “Amazing,” she said as she watched him claim the empty water bowl and refill it.
And really, she wasn’t just talking about the dog. When it came to Matt, the view from the rear was almost as impressive as that from the front. She catalogued each of these moments to tide her over in her lonely, dog- guarded bed.
“So Stella the Wonderpoodle doesn’t have different barks?” he asked.
“No, but she can now identify an unopened potato chip bag by sight.”
Matt laughed. “A lot of dogs have different barks for different needs. Stella’s pretty smart. Maybe you just don’t know her signs anymore.”
“Maybe, but for now, let’s talk about shoes.”
“Isn’t that the kind of thing that would go over better with Ella and my sisters?”
“Doubtful, Imelda,” she said. “I’m betting if I stacked all of my shoes against yours, you’d win.”
He looked almost wounded. “I don’t have that many.”
“This way, please.” She beckoned him away from the kitchen and to the bedroom hallway in tour guide fashion. “And here we have Mount Culhane, an active volcano, altitude six pairs and growing daily.”
He regarded the pile suspiciously. “How did they all end up here?”
“I’ve been moving them every day.”
“From where?”
“Exactly where you take them off, it appears. It was becoming a minefield out there.”
He was still staring at the shoes. “I’d wondered where they all went.”
“What? They’re right by your door. Don’t you look at the ground?”
“No need,” he said. “I could walk this house blindfolded.”
“Then next time, I’ll trip you up and take them all the way into your bedroom.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Would you?”
Kate realized she had just committed a tactical error and morphed into his maid.
He leaned down and kissed her. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Okay, make that two tactical errors, because she didn’t stop him. And now three, because she was kissing him back.
It had been tough work forgetting just what it felt like to be kissed by Matt Culhane. And it had been tougher yet to block the thought that she was one wall away from him every night. She knew that he sometimes talked in his sleep. She knew that he woke and showered at six. And she knew that right now she’d be beyond blissed-out should they make love.
Telling herself she was ten kinds of crazy, Kate deepened the kiss and touched the wall of muscle on his chest. And while they kissed some more, she ran her fingers down to the waistband of his shorts.
She didn’t know for sure what he’d look like totally naked, but she could give it a good guess based on the size of his shoes. He brought her tighter against his body. She drew in a surprised breath. She had underestimated.
