surprise, as if asking what had just happened. Nic scooped him up in his arms.
“You think you can take me?” he asked the big-eyed fluff ball.
The dog woofed in agreement, wiggled to get closer, and tried to lick his face.
“Careful,” Brenna warned. “You might find the puppy doing the picking rather than the other way around.”
Even as she spoke, the pup cuddled close to Nic’s chest, rested its head on his shoulder, and closed its eyes.
Nic knew he was a regular kind of guy. He was into sports, rode a motorcycle, and ran a successful corporation worth half a billion dollars. There was no way fifteen pounds of puppy was going to get to him.
But the warm weight felt surprisingly comfortable. Maybe Maggie had been right-maybe he did need something more in his life, even if it was just a dog.
“Tell me about this one, Sara,” he said, indicating the puppy in his arms and avoiding Brenna’s knowing smile.
“He’s going to be a big guy. Just look at those paws. He’s social and outgoing. A little stubborn.”
“Aren’t most males?” Brenna asked.
Sara held up her hands. “I don’t have those kinds of conversations with clients,” she said cheerfully. “You two can argue about that on the way home.”
They probably would, Nic thought. Along with other things. Brenna had always been opinionated, and she wasn’t afraid to stand up for what she believed. She also didn’t mind admitting when she was wrong. Rather that was how she’d been ten years ago. He couldn’t speak to who she was now.
He glanced at the puppy asleep in his arms. “I’ll take him.”
Thirty minutes later they were back in Nic’s Land Rover with a large box of supplies in the back and a still- drowsy puppy on a blanket on Brenna’s lap.
“We can put him in the carrier,” Nic said as he started the engine.
She stroked the puppy’s soft fur and shook her head. “I like holding him. As long as you don’t mind.”
Nic shrugged. She supposed the message was that simple homey things like dogs didn’t get to him, but she’d seen the expression on his face when the puppy had fallen asleep on his chest. He’d felt a twinge of emotion.
She guessed he would rather eat glass than admit it, which was fine with her. She wasn’t going to say anything. Well, not very much.
“Why a dog?” she asked.
“I’ve been thinking about getting one for a while, but my travel schedule made the idea impractical. I recently hired a new sales manager. He’ll take over most of the accounts and do the bulk of the traveling.”
“Must be nice,” she said. “What will you do in your free time?”
“I have some new projects. They’ll keep me busy. Not to mention training my new dog.”
“Training, huh? Probably to attack strangers on sight. I’ll warn my family members to stay clear of Giovanni land. I don’t want my seventy-something grandfather coming home with a dog bite.”
“Rufus won’t be biting anyone.”
She stared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding. Rufus? You’d name your poor dog Rufus?”
“Sure. What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything. It’s not a cute puppy name.”
“He won’t be a cute puppy for long.”
She cupped the dog’s face in her hand. “Look at those big eyes, that little black nose. Can you really call this sweetie Rufus? Think of the emotional pain from the other dogs in the neighborhood calling him Rufus the Dufus.”
Nic shook his head. “You’ve been out in the sun too long, Brenna. The other dogs in the neighborhood won’t be calling him anything because dogs can’t talk.”
“Not to us. But they can probably talk to each other. They’ll tease him. He needs a more dignified name. Or at least something fun.”
Nic made a noise in his throat that wasn’t exactly a growl, but darned close. “What did you have in mind?”
“Anything but Rufus. How about Charlie, Marvin, Jack.”
“Marvin?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m brainstorming. You can’t be critical and expect the creative process to work.”
“I never thought that naming a dog would be considered creative.”
“It’s important. This is a name he’ll carry for the rest of his life. It will say something about who he is. He’ll either live up or down to his name.”
He glanced at the sleeping puppy in her lap. “How about Max?”
She picked up a massive paw and held it in her hand. Hard to believe this little guy would grow into those feet, but he would. “Max works for me.”
“Then that’s what we’ll call him.”
As he spoke, Nic returned his attention to the road. Brenna stayed completely still, barely able to breathe. She knew that Nic hadn’t meant the statement the way he’d said it. She was reading something into his words that didn’t belong there. They had a business relationship now, nothing more. She’d learned her lesson about giving her heart and soul to a man and even if she was ever going to take that chance again, it wouldn’t be with Nic. Loving him had been a disaster…for both of them.
But the implied connection in “that’s what we’ll call him” unnerved her. She thought about the afternoon they’d just spent together and realized how easily they’d fallen into familiar patterns. As if they’d always been friends. As if the years apart hadn’t happened. As if she hadn’t betrayed him.
Old news, she told herself. For both of them. Nic had gotten over her, just like she’d gotten over him. They were business partners now. Nothing more. She couldn’t afford for them to be anything more.
5
When they arrived back at Wild Sea Vineyards, Brenna figured she should leave, but Nic surprised her by asking if she could stick around for a little longer.
“I have a few questions about how you’re going to make things work,” he said.
She eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not going to change your mind about the loan, are you?”
He grinned. “I already said yes. I don’t go back on my word. You’ll have the papers in the morning.”
Being around Nic was hardly tough duty, and seeing as she already had a crush on Max and little to do back at the hacienda, with the exception of picking grapes or arguing with her grandfather, she agreed.
She helped him carry puppy supplies into the main house. The Marcelli hacienda was a huge Spanish-style structure, but the Giovanni home was more a one-story ranch style, with additions sprawling at both ends. Years ago, when Nic’s grandfather had been out of town, she’d once spent the night. She still remembered what every room looked like and how many places they’d made love.
They walked through a utility room into a large remodeled kitchen.
“Where are you going to keep him?” she asked.
“There’s an old storage room where he can sleep.”
“A storage room? Is it heated? Does it have a window? Are you going to keep him locked up all the time?”
Nic shook his head. “You always assume I’m the bad guy. Maybe you’d like to check out Max’s prison cell before complaining.”
“He’s just a baby. He’s going to miss his mother and siblings. He’ll probably cry all night. You should let him sleep with you.”
“Not on a bet. He’s little now, but soon enough he’ll be full-grown. I’m not sharing my bed with an eighty-pound dog.”
Brenna had the brief thought that she could offer to share Nic’s bed, but she pushed the image of them together in a tangle of sheets from her mind and prepared herself to be appalled by Max’s new home.
She should have known better, she thought, feeling more than a little foolish when she saw the “storage room.” Maybe it had once been home to an assortment of boxes and pieces of furniture, but it was currently puppy paradise.
