“What are you saying, Keanu? Stop mumbling and speak up!”she whisper-yelled at the TV. She’d rewound the same scene a half-dozen times.It might have explained why it was past eleven and she was three hours into amovie that ran ninety minutes.
She reversed again, and just as she hit play, someonepounded on her front door, launching her from her seat.
What the hell?
“Natalie Foster? You awake?” came a man’s muffled voice.
Not a voice she recognized. Her heart kicked into overdrive,furiously pumping blood through her veins. She plunged her hand under the couchcushions and gripped a foot-long length of metal pipe. Pushing her sweater upon her shoulder, she rose and tiptoed to the door.
Another knock, and the door rattledin its frame.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!
“Natalie? I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet, andI apologize for the circumstances, but I’m a friend of T.J. Shanstrom.Our boy’s kinda messed up, and I’m here to help himget his dog.”
What the—?
Eye to a peephole said T.J. Shanstrom had installed for her safety, she steadied her tremors. A Chad Michael Murray lookalike ina crisp tuxedo stood on her stoop holding a dark, human-shaped heap. She inchedthe door open, and Chad gave her a tentative smile.
“Hi. Natalie? I’m Gage Nelson.” He was holding up ableary-eyed Tyler, also in a tuxedo, though his resembled an unmade bed. Gage’seyes traveled down to her hand, and the smile slid from his face.
Time froze. Natalie took in the scene before her while Gagetook her in, frowning.
“I don’t have Ford,” she blurted.
“Uh, Shanny said he left his doghere.”
“Ford’s not here,” she repeated.
A few garbled words sounding suspiciouslylike, “Told you she was beautiful,” rumbled from Tyler.
“Yeah, dude, you were right.” Tyler’s knees began buckling,and Gage appeared to struggle under his weight. “Can you stand up?” beganlosing his grip; he darted his eyes to Natalie. “Can I bring him in for a sec?”Behind him, engine running, was the blue Audi A8 she’d seen in the Blizzardparking lot several days ago. A beautiful blond in shimmering silver sat in thefront passenger seat, neck craned toward them.
“Um, okay. Just put him on the couch.”
“Thanks.” Gage part-marched, part-dragged Tyler to the couchand heaved him onto it. Tyler listed to one side and sank into the cushionswith a groan, bowtie undone and askew, jacket hanging at an angle she was sureArmani never intended.
“What happened?” she asked.
Panting, Gage’s eyes flicked back to her hand, and thehalf-smile returned. “That thing loaded?”
Adrenaline waved through her body, and she tightened hergrip on the pipe. “Yes. You gonna tell me what’sgoing on?”
“Sir Galahad,” he tilted his head at Tyler, “got a littledrunk tonight. Apparently, he preferred Jameson to his date. She’s out in thecar now, and I’m trying to get her home.”
Retching noises came from the couch, and Natalie’s eyeswidened. So did Gage’s. “Bathroom?” He reached for Tyler.
She pointed. “Back there! On the right! And there’s a sparetoothbrush and toothpaste in the top right-hand drawer.”
While the men were busy in the bathroom, she motioned forTyler’s date to come in, but the woman shook her head forcefully. She didn’tlook pleased.
Sporting a Tyler cape, Gage emerged a few minutes later.“He’s better—at least for a few minutes.” Gage shucked his load onto her couch,then draped Tyler’s jacket and tie over an armchair. Tyler moaned and nuzzledthe cushions.
“I know this is asking a lot, but can I leave him here whileI get his date home? I’ll come back for him.” Gage’s face was guileless,earnest, and Natalie felt an unwelcome yank at her heart. The thought of Tylersick in Gage’s car—and Gage cleaning it up—knocked about in her head, and sheheard herself say, “Okay,” before Lily Logical could slap some sense into her.
Gage gave her a head dip. “Good night, Miss Natalie.”
“See you soon, Gage.”
Natalie glanced at the large lump on her couch. Definitelya case of stray dog syndrome. And speaking of stray dogs, where was Ford?
.~* * * ~.
Thumping alerted Natalie somethingbig was staggering around her house.
Crap!
She shot out of bed and switched on the lamp, glimpsingKeanu Reeves and Winona Ryder frozen on the TV screen in the living room,sporting the same half-lidded, open-mouthed poses they’d sported when Gage andTyler first arrived.
A shirtless, pantless Tyler loomedand filled her hallway, looking around himself as though lost. She tore hereyes from his perfectly cut body because he was about to toss his Jamesoncookies again. Which was why his abs, his pecs, hisbiceps—pretty much every perfect muscle on him—was contracting.
She flipped on the overhead light and pointed at thebathroom door. “That way!”
He looked at her through slittedeyes. The man didn’t just look lost. He was lost. She reachedhim, grasped his biceps, and yanked. He didn’t move. Just looked down at her asif trying to puzzle out a pesky insect buzzing him.
“Nat?” he croaked.
Her hands didn’t span his biceps, so she shoved at hisshoulders.
“Bathroom’s there,” she puffed.
He shuffled his feet and lurched sideways into the bathroombarely bigger than a closet. She slammed the door just in time to dull thesound of his heaving. She leaned against it, praying he’d hit the toilet.
“You alive in there?” she ventured when everything hadquieted.
A grunt. He still lived, thank God. A sprint to therefrigerator, and she had a blue Gatorade in hand. Back at the bathroom door,she knocked softly and jumped back when he opened it.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. His face was wet where he’d splashedit with water, and his head hung miserably.
She slid past him, careful not to brush against him, andgrabbed a hand towel, which she threw at him before wrapping her arm around hiswaist. Trying to block out the feel of smooth, warm skin stretched over hard,sculpted muscle, she let his heavy body lean against hers. His weighty armdraped over her shoulders.
“Let’s put you to bed until Gage gets here.” Where isGage? “Here’s some Gatorade,” she addedas they stutter-stepped their way to her bedroom.
Partway there, he stopped, looked down at her, and moaned.“God, you must hate me.” A hint of mint drifted from him.
She ignored him because no, she didn’t hate him. Whatshe
