Misty and the Single Dad

never going to be a better time to fight than right now.

‘So you’re saying…’ Nicholas said slowly.

‘That I’m no longer offering you my house. Unless,’ she said softly, watching Bailey, ‘Bailey has his own dog.’

Nick’s face turned to thunder.

‘Henrietta Farnsworth runs the Animal Welfare,’ she said, briskly efficient now she saw her way. Or Nick’s way. ‘It’s only open weekdays, but on Sundays she feeds and cleans at eleven. You could go choose a dog and then accept my very kind offer by midday.’

‘This is blackmail.’ Nick’s growl was truly menacing, but Bailey had turned to look at her and his look strengthened her resolve. She grinned at Bailey and she winked.

‘I agree with Bailey. He needs his own dog.’

‘Dogs cause you grief. I don’t want Bailey to face that kind of hurt.’

‘You’re saying you won’t get a dog because eventually you might lose him? What sort of argument is that? You’re living in the country now. Country kids know about birth and death. Natalie’s dad’s cow lost one of her twins yesterday. Natalie will tell everyone all the gory details on Monday morning. It’s sad but it happens. You can’t shield Bailey for ever. Choose a young dog and take your chances.’

Silence. She let the silence run.

Nick set Bailey down and Bailey had the sense to remain silent. Nick raked his fingers through his hair again. She’d first noticed him doing it yesterday, when he was drawing his plans for her yurt. His long strong fingers, running through thick wavy hair, had made her feel… Was making her feel…

Uh oh. Let’s not go there.

But she was there. Maybe this man was going to live just through the wall from her.

She shivered, but not with cold.

But he was still coming at her with arguments. ‘I didn’t mean to promise Bailey a dog,’ he started.

She was ready for him this time, growing firmer. ‘Yes, you did or you wouldn’t have said it.’

‘It was a rash moment.’

‘You’ll love a dog. You saw Ketchup and Bailey together. You’ll both love a dog.’

‘But Ketchup’s recuperating.’ He was starting to sound helpless. Helpless and sexy. It seemed an incredibly appealing, incredibly masculine combination.

Stop it. She was a respectable schoolteacher, she told herself. She was a potential landlady. Listen to what he’s saying.

‘Ketchup doesn’t need company.’ His arguments were getting weaker.

‘Ketchup doesn’t need a rough companion,’ she agreed. ‘Or not at first. But we can keep them separate. Like you and I will be separate. I want tenants, not friends.’

‘Really?’

She drew her breath in on that one. Really?

‘We can meet on the veranda occasionally,’ she conceded.

‘And Bailey can play with Ketchup,’ he said, fast. ‘See, he doesn’t need a dog of his own.’

‘I do,’ Bailey said.

‘He does,’ she said. ‘But this is no longer my call. Talk to your son about it. I’m happy to welcome you, your son and your dog into my house, or I’m happy to continue living alone. I need to check on Ketchup. Let me know.’

Enough. She’d thrown her hat into the ring.

Now it was up to him.

‘Up to you,’ she said and she turned and walked back down the veranda steps and drove away.

What had she done?

Nicholas Holt had just backed himself into a very small corner.

Maybe he’d be angry. Maybe he’d decide that yes, he’d buy a dog, but they wouldn’t move into her place. If he thought she was a blackmailer, they just might.

Maybe he’d tell Bailey that yes, he’d buy him a dog, but not till, say, Christmas. Or when he reached twenty- one.

Ketchup was awake and watching for her. He hopped stiffly out of his basket, balancing on three legs as he nudged her ankles. He had a world of worry in his eyes.

‘That makes two of us worried. But I don’t know why I am,’ she told him. ‘I don’t want them to move here. It’d cause complications.’

But she was lying. She did want them to move here. She wanted complications.

‘Only because I can’t have my yurt for a while longer,’ she muttered. ‘I need to let it go.’

She had let it go. And maybe she’d just let prospective tenants go.

‘I’ve pushed him too far,’ she told Ketchup.

Maybe he wasn’t as wealthy as the Internet suggested. She knew the guy who owned the house he was in. He’d have demanded rent in advance.

Nick was already paying an expensive veterinary bill. He hadn’t asked her how much she intended charging. Maybe… Maybe…

Maybe she was a complete fool. And the way he made her feel… What was she doing, hoping the phone would ring?

The phone rang.

She let it ring five times. It wouldn’t do to be eager.

On the sixth ring she lifted it. ‘Yes?’ She was gearing herself for a blunt refusal. Anger. Maybe he had the right to be angry.

‘You need to help me,’ Nick said, sounding goaded.

‘How can I do that?’

‘You need to help my son choose a dog,’ he said. ‘What time did you say this woman will be at the Shelter? And then you need to give me a key to your front door. I believe you have two new tenants. Three, if you count our new dog.’

CHAPTER SIX

NICK drove towards the Animal Shelter and beside him Bailey’s face glowed. He held his teddy, but he was looking forward, all eagerness, to what lay ahead.

‘A dog of my own,’ he whispered as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. ‘And living with Miss Lawrence…’

‘Next door to Miss Lawrence.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’m getting a dog.’

Dogs had germs. Nick could still hear the echo of his mother’s horrified response when he’d asked for a dog thirty years ago.

Germs. Heartbreak. Loss. This was a risk-but Misty was right. He couldn’t protect his son from everything. He needed to loosen up.

And his son would be safe with Misty. The sensation that caused was wonderful. It was like going into freefall, but knowing the landing was assured. And maybe the landing was more wonderful than the fall itself.

For, dog or not, once he’d agreed to her conditions, he felt as if he was landing. He was finding a home for his son-with Misty.

He was finding a home beside Misty, he reminded himself, but that wasn’t how his body was thinking.

She’d teased him this morning. She’d backed him into a corner and she’d enjoyed doing it.

He’d been angry, frustrated, baffled-but he’d loved her doing it.

He turned the corner and she was already parked outside the Shelter. She was standing in the dappled sunlight under a vast gum tree, in her faded jeans, a sleeveless gingham shirt and old trainers. Her hair was caught back