“I owe you big time. If anything would’ve happened to her, I’m pretty sure I’d have been murdered in my sleep—not that I’d have been able to sleep,” he said, grinning. “She’s a master at slipping her collar. Usually, I’m one step ahead of her, just not today.”
Tess laughed as Millie both growled and wagged her tail at the guy. “She seems not quite sure what to think of you.”
“You can say that again. My neighbor had knee surgery, and I’ve been taking her out when I’m home, sometimes three times a day. Just when I think we’re good to go, she goes all Mr. Hyde on me.”
“Does she bite?”
“No. Just barks and runs about like a Ping-Pong ball.”
“It kind of seemed like she was playing. Maybe that’s what she needs. A good bout of play at a dog park.” Tess nodded toward the leash. “Do you mind snapping that back on while I hold her? I don’t want to risk setting her down first. Or can’t you in that sling?”
“My hand’s fine. It’s my shoulder.” He stepped in closer than Tess was expecting, and she caught his scent. She didn’t know guys’ colognes, if it was that and not a shave gel, but his smell reminded her of a walk through the woods with maybe a hint of sandalwood and lemon. Whatever it was, the rain likely accented it. Tess would’ve liked to bathe in it.
He also had really good hands, she noticed as he clipped Millie’s dark-pink collar on. Tess tested the collar with her free hand. It was a bit too loose. She could slip more than the suggested two fingers underneath.
“I can tighten it,” he offered, voicing her thoughts.
“That’d be good. They tend to work themselves loose over time from pulling and all.”
He stepped in even closer as he whirled Millie’s collar around and worked at pulling the extra collar through the tri glide. This close, all that stubble drew her attention like a beacon to his lips and white teeth.
Tess couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t wearing a ring.
Odds are a zillion to one that he’s got a girlfriend, Grasso. And he’s not even your type.
Only, Tess wondered, if you had to remind yourself someone wasn’t your type, how could you be sure they weren’t?
He’s sporty. You like bookish. Besides, getting lost in those arms would be like hugging a tree trunk.
He finished and stepped back, and Tess had to blink herself back to reality. “I’ll, uh, put her down now, I guess. You could maybe suggest a martingale collar or a body harness to your friend. Westies are notorious for slipping their collars with those stout necks of theirs.”
“I will. Listen, I’d like to thank you, but I’m not sure how. Not only did you catch her, you’ve gotten soaked in the process.”
Tess set Millie on the ground, then stood and shrugged. The little Westie sniffed her wet boots, seeming as calm and content as if she’d never gotten worked up at all. Her tail wagged with the constancy of a reliable clock. “It’s all in a day’s work, and I was pretty soaked when I got over here.” She glanced at the clouds. “I thought it was going to let up, but now it seems like it might get worse. I’d better grab my things and run. Thanks though.”
She held out a hand, hoping to look more confident and self-assured than she felt. It didn’t help that she was shivering. She didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that her lips had become an attractive shade of blue. All the while, Mr. Sporty wasn’t in a jacket and the raindrops were beading up and rolling down his water-resistant shirt.
“Oh, come on.” He closed his hand around hers but didn’t shake it, which caught her off guard. “Are you parked close? Let me walk you to your car. I didn’t even get your name.”
“I’m, uh, bussing it actually.” Bussing it? Is that even a word? She needed to pull her hand away, only he wasn’t letting go. His skin was warm, and his grip was inviting and strong. Her knees were practically melting into her shins.
She glanced down the sidewalk at the spot where she’d stashed her suitcase and backpack and blinked unexpectedly. The slightest hint of panic nudged in. She scanned the landscaping for a sign of them, only there wasn’t any.
“You’re bussing it?” he was saying. “Where are you going? I’ll give you a ride.”
He must have moved them behind one of the evergreen bushes. Surely that was it. Only he’d been at least ten feet from them and she’d swear he’d never moved until he’d walked in her direction. Only, would she have known if he had? She’d been zeroed in on Millie. Aside from a woman with a poodle at the opposite end, the park was deserted. But had it always been?
“Did you see my stuff?” Panic was flooding in so quickly it was as if a dam had broken. “My suitcase and backpack. Do you know where they went?”
Tess pulled her hand away and hurried down the sidewalk toward the middle of the park where she’d come in. He followed, having no trouble coaxing Millie along. The little dog trotted willingly beside Tess. By the time she reached the bush where she’d set her things, she was in a jog. Her suitcase was filled with her success stories. All of them. And all those dollars’ worth of thoughtful purchases. And then there was the laptop in her backpack. The one with all her research. And every single treasured photograph she’d downloaded from her trip to Europe. Dear God, why hadn’t she gotten around to backing her stuff up on the Cloud? Her cell phone too. And the cell numbers of dozens of amazing people she’d met while away. All of it. Vanished.
Gone.
A sharp, chilly gust blew so hard she had to adjust her footing. Rain, in smaller droplets but
