Bumping? Brushing against each other? He’d noticed. And he liked it. While he didn’t deliberately collide with her-he had more maturity than Geoff, for pity’s sake-he didn’t go out of his way to step aside if she was passing him, either.
“Anyway.” She swallowed. “Border collies are active dogs. It’s good they’re giving Zoe the extra playtime and exercise since I’ve been gone a lot this week.”
“Are you all done for the day?” he asked, trying not to stare as she bent over to wipe the far side of the table. She had an amazing figure. It seemed as if, over the past few years, he’d fallen into the implausible habit of thinking about the human form in only clinical terms. Brenna’s body was more art than science.
“Nope.” When she answered him, he struggled momentarily to remember what his question had been. “I’ll do about an hour of office work, then head back out to put some dogs in for the night. Not everyone has doggie doors installed, and there are a lot of reasons not to leave dogs out all night-weather, increased barking and, for the smaller dogs, the threat of coyotes.”
“So how did you come to work with animals?” he asked. “It sounds great in theory-be your own boss, play with cute puppies-but the reality seems pretty difficult.
“It’s rewarding, mostly. I’ve loved animals ever since I was a little girl, and as I mentioned last night, the nine- to-five thing just wasn’t for me.”
“Not enough working hours in the day?” he teased.
She grinned over her shoulder. “It was more the corporate culture, office politics. As it turns out, I apparently don’t play well with others.”
In her flippant response, she was selling herself short. He didn’t know much about pet-sitting, but he knew what it was like to work with various personality types. His patients had all kinds of quirks and preferences, but they needed him. Brenna had made it sound as if she was actively striving to grow her business, which must require good word of mouth, which meant she had to be careful to cater to her clients. Even if one was being a pain in the butt.
“Do you like the majority of the people you work for?” he wanted to know.
She tossed her dishcloth into the sink. “Yeah. I appreciate every one of them-even the ones who change their pet’s diet or medication and forget to tell me, or the ones who have nanny-cams installed every ten inches and make me feel like I’m stuck in my own reality television show. Obviously I couldn’t do this for a living without my customers, but it’s more than that.
“I’m grateful to them for…making me part of their lives.” She winced. “Well, that sounded corny as hell.”
Adam smiled, charmed equally by the personal revelation and her subsequent cranky reaction.
Abruptly she changed the subject. “Other than getting her a cat, which should qualify you as the most beloved parent in all of Mistletoe, have you figured out what you’re going to do for Morgan’s birthday?”
“No.” Finished with the dishes, he leaned against the counter. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“Earlier today I remembered something my stepmother did once. She treated me to a girlie day at the local spa. Mani, pedi, sparkly lipstick. At Morgan’s age, she might get a kick out of being treated like a princess. Eliza could do it with her, but I guess that leaves you and Geoff out in the cold.”
“It might work,” Adam said slowly. With three kids, it was difficult to get one-on-one time with each. Maybe he and Geoff could have some time to chat while the girls enjoyed an hour or two of glamour. And it was the type of thing that would be a surprise-people expected moms to come up with beauty-day ideas, not fathers.
“So, your dad married Josh’s mom?” he asked. If Brenna and her father were close, perhaps she could give him some insight into improving his relationship with Eliza.
“No.”
“But…” Hadn’t she said Josh was her stepbrother? And she mentioned a stepmother.
Brenna turned to the window overlooking that backyard. “I hate to break up the kids’ fun, but I really do have some computer work I should get to.”
“Of course, sorry.” The last thing he’d wanted was to overstay his welcome. “I should have herded them inside sooner, instead of sticking around to shoot the bull.”
“I’ve never liked that saying,” Brenna admonished with mock affront. “But at least it’s not as bad as ‘more than one way to skin a cat.’ What kind of monster came up with that?” She gave an exaggerated shudder.
Was the silly banter her way of softening the impression that she was kicking them out?
“From here on out, only metaphors in which no animals are harmed,” he promised solemnly. “Where do you stand on ‘raining cats and dogs’?”
Her lips twitched as she tried to keep her expression deadpan. “It depends. Are they wearing protective gear?” At the last moment, her suppressed smile broke free, making her truly beautiful, and it was as if something inside Adam had been liberated, too.
Without conscious, rational thought, he leaned forward and kissed her.
At first it was only the feather-light contact of his mouth against her smile, but even that sent a jolt straight through him and down to his toes. He nipped at her bottom lip, grazing his tongue over her, nearly overcome with the urge to haul her closer, frame her face in his hands and kiss her deeply.
Stunned at the intensity of his reaction, he righted himself. “I…” Should apologize, yet he couldn’t bring himself to say he was sorry. How could he pretend to regret the kiss when what he really wanted was to do it again? Soon.
“Should go,” she supplied tremulously, as if unsure of her own words. Her clear green eyes were startled. But did they also reflect back something more? “You should get going.”
“Right.” His feet wouldn’t move.
They stood there for a heartbeat that felt like a lifetime, staring at each other.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll round up my kids.”
She nodded, bemused.
Neither of them said anything else, but when he got to the back door, he couldn’t resist looking over his shoulder at her. She remained in the same spot, motionless. Except that she’d pressed her fingers to her lips.
As he stepped through the doorway, a whisper of sound followed him. He thought it might have been
Chapter Eight
“Hey, sis.” Josh opened the front door wider to let Brenna past, but rather than flash one of his customary smiles, he scowled with concern. “Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Not even close,” she admitted with a wan smile. “So stop badgering me to go out with Nick Zeth or J. C. Delgorio or whoever you’re trying to fix me up with next and just let me stay home so I can go to bed early.”
Josh narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you were thinking something. I could smell the smoke.”
“Ha ha.” She poked him in the shoulder. “You’re hilarious. You ever think about taking that act on the road…far, far from Mistletoe?”
Natalie appeared behind him in the doorway that led from the foyer into the dining room where they’d all be eating. “Josh, are you giving your sister a hard time?”
“Nah, we were just chatting. Apparently she’s too tired to date.”
Maggie poked her head around the corner, wiping flour-dusted hands on her apron. No doubt she’d just put one of her wonderful pies in the oven. “Date? Brenna, honey, did you go on a date this weekend?”
“What can I help with?” Brenna asked, effectively sidestepping the issue of romance.
For a whole twenty-three minutes.
As Fred passed the barbecued chicken to Brenna, he asked, “Know who I saw at Waide Supply?”
Brenna hazarded a guess. “One of the Waides?” Zachariah and his wife had owned the hardware and feed
