“For two in-home visits a day for one dog, I usually chargetwenty-five. Keeping a dog here would be a little less.”
“That doesn’t make sense if he’s with you the whole time.What do you charge other clients?”
“I don’t typically board dogs, besides Drew’s, and webarter.”
Tyler’s golden-green eyes darted to the ceiling. “Andkennels charge …”
“Around here? The average is thirty a day.”
“So let’s say fifty since he’s getting personal care, andsometimes I might run late.”
Did he just wink at her? Pretty sure that was a wink. Nowhe was scrutinizing her, grin pasted on his face, and her cheeks began heating.She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand. “So what does ninetydays work out to?” He snapped his fingers. “C’mon. Let’s see those mad mathskills.”
Unable to keep it in, she let a laugh burst from her. He wasbeing ridiculous. In a very nice way, but still ridiculous. She faked countingon her fingers. “Forty-five hundred.” The full impact of the sum hit her. “Ohmy God! That’s too much.” But he was already going for his back pocket. Hiswallet? Surely he wasn’t going to pay cash …
He pulled out a rubber-banded wad of hundreds and offeredthem to her. “There should be forty-five hundreds, but double-check.”
Her mouth moved, but nothing came out. She was too busystaring at the bills in her hand. “Wait. Did you … Youalready had this worked out, didn’t you?”
“I did a little research.” He shrugged broad shoulders. “Soare you going to count it? I wouldn’t trust me, if I were you.” When she didn’tmove, he took the bills and counted them out on her table. “All there,” hedeclared. “And for the record, I’m not taking it back. It’s hard to sitstraight with a lump that size in my pocket. Doesn’t balance the wallet on theother side.”
“All there,” she repeated, a bit dazed, her mind going atwarp speed as it blazed through his possible occupations.
He leaned in and waved his hand in front of her face.“Hello?”
When she nodded, he straightened and headed for thebackyard, stirring up a heady man scent that drifted off him, a combination ofa woodsy, musky fragrance—like Creed Aventus, one ofher favorites. Something altogether distinct and masculine.It smelled wonderful, and she fought the urge to sniff, zeroing instead on whatshe needed to do. Write a receipt! No, write it on the form. Cash received,forty-five Benjamins. Holy house payments, Batman!
Five house payments, to be exact.
The numbers—and her vibrating phone—snapped her back,interrupting her mind’s meandering along the putt-putt course of life. Shepicked up. “What’s up, Drewbert?”
“Hey, Nat. Headed your way to pick upthe dogs. You home?”
“Yep. How soon will you be here?” She walked to theexpansive living room window and peered out at the enormous black Hummer. Whatthe hell does the guy do for a living? Please don’t let it be illegal.
“About ten minutes.”
The back door opened, and heavy footsteps creaked on thekitchen floor then stopped.
“See you soon, Bro.” She hung up and pivoted to find Tylereyeing her warily. “Drew’ll be here in a fewminutes.”
Tyler turned and stalked back to the kitchen door in ananosecond. “I should go.”
Ooookay. “You don’thave to leave because he’s coming over.”
“No, uh, I just remembered someplace I gottabe.” He practically hurled himself through the doorway. Gone were the grin andthe playful persona. He was all business.
“Um, okay.” Confused and somewhat sheepish, she followed himoutside into the backyard, where he stood, eyes on his dog.
“Ford!” The dog ignored him. He tried to corral Ford, whichproved highly entertaining, though Natalie felt a stab of guilt for enjoyingit. The animal seemed to disregard him completely. Tyler growled somethingundecipherable as he lunged, nearly face-planting onthe grass. The whole scene reminded Natalie of a greased pig contest, and shehad to fight back her amusement. She lost the battle, and a snort escaped. Todisguise it, she bent over and drummed her thighs. “C’mere,Ford. Come on, baby boy. Let’s go, sweet thing.”
Ford loped over to her. She fought the urge to smirk.
Between breaths, Tyler jerked his chin at her, and a slow,lazy smile began spreading over his face. “Maybe you can teach me that thingyou do.”
“Thing?”
“Getting him to come without having to go allgirlie.” He grasped Ford’s collar.
“Right,” she scoffed. “Because it would be so easy to pegyou for girlie.”
He gave her a headshake. “Welp,I’m out. See you tomorrow bright and early.”
“See you then.” She walked him inside and gawked as hesprinted through her house to his Schwarzenegger Special, afterburnerspractically shooting from his heels.
No sooner had he pulled away than Drew’s Subaru rolledalongside her curb. As Drew unfolded himself, she contemplated whether she’ddone or said something wrong. Maybe she’d pissed off Tyler with her smartassattitude, the one that seemed to pop up effortlessly whenever he was around.No, he’d teased her too.
Before she could ponder it for long, Drew walked over,watching the big black behemoth roll down the street. “Whose Hummer?”
“My new dog client, Tyler,” she replied absently, eyes stillglued to the vehicle. California plates.
“What does the guy do?”
“No idea, but he paid me in cash. Forty-five hundred bucks.”
Drew’s brows shot to his hairline. “Seriously?”
“I know, huh?”
“You didn’t ask what he does?”
“I did. He said something about entertainment. He wasn’tspecific.”
Drew let out a low whistle as the Hummer disappeared fromsight. “Be careful, Sis.”
.~* * * ~.
T.J. glanced in the rearview atFord, who stared cross-eyed from the cargo space. “Christ, that was a close call!”Ford cocked an ear. “One run-in with hockey bro, and you and I would be out, myfriend. O-U-T.” He exhaled noisily. “You look as tired as I feel.”
Eyes strafing Natalie’s street right before he turned, hecaught on her tidy little house. He pictured her pretty eyes widening as hecounted out the cash. God, that had been fun!
His thoughts had raced along an emotional spectrum—and notjust in one pass, but several—as he’d sat in Natalie’s kitchen. He’d seesawedbetween lust, protectiveness, a yearning to soak in her serene vibe, andsomething unidentifiable but way too touchy-feely. Altogethergirlie. Maybe he needed a Game of Thrones marathonor to cue up a couple of John Wicks for some serious ass kicking. Maybewhat he
