Leashed (Going to the Dogs) (8 page)

“It is.” She took a deep breath as he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. Who was she kidding? At least learning a new game might keep her from fantasizing about what she really wanted to be doing.

“Okay, then you’re on. Have a seat. Would you like wine?”

She settled down at his beautiful, smooth, blocky teak table. Mixing Owen and alcohol would be a very dumb move. She watched him open the fridge door and bend down to look inside. Her gaze followed the line of his body, but got stuck right at the seat of his jeans, drawn over his…ah…yeah. Water was a much better idea—poured over her head. Make that very cold water.

He grabbed two wine glasses and set them and the bottle on the table. At that point she decided it wasn’t wise to put up too much of a fuss about the wine. After searching briefly in a drawer under the TV, he came back with a square piece of wood with three columns of colored peg holes and a deck of cards.

He set the cards down on the table and opened a metal slide at the bottom of the board. Three pegs dropped into his palm. He kept out the red and blue pegs and placed the green back inside the board, sliding the metal closed.

Next, he set the pegs in the peg holes at the beginning of the board and shuffled the deck. He placed it face down and said, “Pick a card.”

Callie pulled the ten of diamonds and Owen got the seven of clubs.

“That means I’m the dealer, and you go first. This game is based on numbers. We’ll alternate laying down the cards. The face cards are worth ten points and the other cards count for their numerical value. Seven for any seven card, and so on. The goal is to get the most number of points. If your cards add up to fifteen points when you lay down your card, you’ll earn two points on the peg board.

He dealt out six cards. “Okay, now you have to decide which of your cards you’ll put into what’s called the crib. The object is to give me a lousy crib, but don’t mess up your hand to do it. Don’t give me pairs or five-cards, stuff that could easily add up to fifteen.”

She looked at her hand and chose the cards she would give him.

They started to play, and she felt she was getting the hang of it. He won the first hand.

“So, how did you get FLASH started?”

“I started small, and I paid celebrities to host the opening of the club. Small potatoes at first, then I expanded and was able to start hiring A-list people. My great aunt helped me with some of the startup capital. It did so well that I was able to pay her back. Now celebrities come to my club without being paid.”

“That’s the sign of success.”

“How about you? How did Sit Happens happen?”

Callie laughed as she scored two points with a fifteen and pegged her points. “Of course I’ve been around dogs all my life, and part of having dogs is making sure they behave, especially with so many dogs in our kennel. I fell into it and learned about how to speak dog from a young age. My parents helped me with the initial capital, too, along with my generous and successful brother. He’s ten years older than I am, and came to the city fifteen years ago, just out of college. Needing affordable studio space, he and a bunch of friends formed a cooperative. They bought this building for almost nothing, and turned it into these terrific lofts, keeping the integrity of the architecture. When he made it big in the art scene, he moved to Soho. He’s also my landlord.”

“I bet he gives you a better rate than he gives me.”

“I’m afraid so. Nepotism is a good thing. My brother was here the other day. Did you know that there have been thefts in the building?”

He shook his head.

“Well, be careful about security.”

He nodded. The hand played out and her crib had no points. “You are good at this,” she said.

“My great aunt taught me.”

“It’s always nice to have those kinds of legacies from your family. For me it’s the dogs.”

His face became somber. “I can only say I wish that were the case. We only started playing cribbage when she got pancreatic cancer. She was pretty much stuck at home through much of it, and then the hospital. I learned it to pass the time with her. They were moments I’m thankful for, and, unlike the visits before she was sick, meaningful. I wish I had visited her more often. I was always so damn busy.”

She covered his hand as he picked up the cards and he looked at her with deep sorrow in his eyes.

“I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. But you did have a meaningful relationship with your Aunt Tilly. I can see that. I can see that you feel terribly guilty about it, too, Owen. But there’s no doubt in my mind that she loved you regardless. It’s just what a nurturing person like your aunt would do.”

For a moment he just stared at her, his dark eyes unreadable. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Callie. Most of the women I’ve been with wouldn’t for a minute be content to talk and play cards while our dogs snuggle. I have to confess that I would never have said anything about Aunt Tilly to any of them.”

She blushed again, the compliment one of the best she’d ever received from a man. It was better than the one when he’d said she looked nice. This was about her character, and it meant more.

Owen certainly wasn’t making it easy for her to remember to keep her distance. She hadn’t expected to have anything in common with him besides the dogs, and she still felt they were diametric opposites, probably in more ways than not. She hadn’t gotten all that far away from her roots, whereas, while he might have had a rough beginning, he’d certainly gone a long way toward polishing off any rough edges from his childhood.
 

“Thank you. I consider us friends.” She looked over at Jack sleeping curled up with Jill. Her dog was in love, head over heels in love. She could not go there with Jill’s owner. And if she didn’t want to start down that slippery slope, she’d better get herself out of here.

“I should go.” She rose, and he did too. Coming around the table, he took her hand.

“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No. It’s not that, Owen.” She tried to keep a cool head even with the warmth of his hand clasping hers. “It’s just that we have to agree to be friends instead of…”

Owen held her gaze for what felt like an eternity, and she wondered what he was thinking behind those inscrutable eyes. “Lovers.” His voice came out soft and husky.

She closed her eyes briefly. “Exactly. So you see the dilemma. Nothing has really changed.” It seemed that the most innocent conversation between them was going to have mixed overtones, and she wasn’t sure how to stop that. And to be perfectly honest, she didn’t really want to. It felt good. She had no business engaging in it, but that didn’t make her want to stop.

“No. I guess not.”

She went over to Jack and said, “Come on, boy.” She walked towards the door and opened it.

“I don’t think he’s going to cooperate.”

She looked over her shoulder to see that Jack hadn’t done anything except lift his head.

She slapped her thigh and pointed next to her right leg. Normally, he would already be sitting there looking obediently up at her. She got exasperated, because not only was it humiliating in front of Owen, but she
was
a freaking dog trainer. She would have said that Jack was the most well-behaved dog in New York City. Now she couldn’t even get him to come to her.

She walked over and grasped his collar, then strained and stressed, but couldn’t budge him an inch. He not only wouldn’t get up, but he pulled back. “Jack!” she said in her sternest voice and he flinched, but refused to make eye contact. He made a pathetic noise deep in his chest.

She bit her lip. It wasn’t as if she was immune to his needs. But he’d had his time with his girlfriend and now they needed to leave. She pulled harder and finally he rose, but planted his feet and pulled back again. Owen watched her with laughter lurking in his eyes, but she failed to see any amusement in this situation.

When she straddled her dog, he laughed out loud, covering his mouth. She tried to walk Jack out of the apartment, but when she got about halfway across the room Jack collapsed, and Callie fell and rolled onto her back.

Owen was now laughing freely as he reached down and helped her up.

“He’s really putting up a protest. How about we watch a movie and then try to get him out? He’s obviously not ready to go.”

“But I am. I’m ready to go, and he’s being terribly stubborn. Ever since he met your dog, I’ve lost control of him.”

“Come on,” he chuckled. “Let’s watch
One Hundred and One Dalmatians
. There’s a bunch of really bad dogs. It’ll make you laugh.”

“You have
One Hundred and One Dalmatians
?” She arched a brow.

He shrugged, an amused glint in his eye that only made him that more appealing. “Well, yeah. I like Disney movies. So sue me.”

She held up her hands. “No, I think that’s pretty cute.”

His lips curved a little and, too late, she remembered that part about his charm being more lethal when he was amused. “Just a bit of advice. Guys don’t like to be called cute.”

“Because, well,
One Hundred and One Dalmatians
is so…ahhhh…manly.”

He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her close. “Shut up. You’re hurting my feelings.”

Callie laughed harder. “That’s because you’re so cute and precious.”

They tussled for a moment until she accidently got him in the ribs and discovered he was ticklish. “Ah, the secret is out. Your Achilles heel.”

“No, stop it,” he warned. They collapsed onto the couch until he effectively restrained her hands. But it was too late, she was on top of him, her hair had come out of its ponytail, and the feel of his hard body beneath hers was totally distracting.

Harper’s words came back to her then, and she almost leaned forward.
You’re going to have to sleep with him.
It was an agonizing decision. She was torn between the promise of immediate, profound pleasure and the inevitable pain it would cost her. Now that she had gotten to know him, it would be even more difficult to let go. If they were physical, would it really get him out of her system?

He said nothing, just looked up at her with that hopeful expression on his face. She swallowed, grabbing hold of her control. She had promised herself she wasn’t going to do this. Promised herself that she wasn’t going to get involved with bad boys any more. She pushed off his chest and sat back on the couch. She saw him do the same. Without a word, he went and put in the DVD and pressed the remote.

“I’m curious about something,” she said, keeping her eyes on the TV screen.

“What?” he said as the opening credits began.
 

“You said your great aunt thought that you were lonely. With so many people in your life, the club, the women, why would she think that? It baffles me.”

A look of hollowness crossed his face and he turned to look at her. “You can be lonely in a crowd when no one really knows you or cares who you really are.”

She met his eyes, then dropped her head forward, her hair covering her face. Finally, she nodded. “I see.”

She started to pull her hair back and he touched her wrist. “Don’t.”

She let it fall. It was the only thing she would give him at this moment.

Chapter Six

Owen felt the pressure against his chest. Even in sleep he knew it was good. He snuggled closer to the intoxicating, warm scent. Soft hair brushed against his nose and his eyes popped open. He found Callie’s head nestled in the crook of his arm, his cheek resting on the top of her head, her sweet-smelling hair just below his nose.

The gray light of dawn filtered through his floor-to-ceiling windows. The busy city’s racket lessened at night, so the volume of the traffic noise below made him think it was about six a.m.

He’d had so much fun with her last night. It was a mixture of camaraderie and sexual need all rolled up into one achingly tempting package. She was truly a one-of-a-kind woman. Somewhere between his confession about his childhood and the easygoing nature of Callie, he’d lost something—the barrier that kept his emotions in check. He wasn’t sure he could replace it now that Callie had gotten a foothold.

He frowned, remembering that she had said she’d been on a date with a doctor. He wondered if she planned to see the guy again. He was stunned at the intensity of the anger and loss he felt just thinking about another man wooing Callie. Owen wasn’t usually a jealous man. It had been live and let live, but this time he felt differently. He felt differently about Callie.

He had to cringe when he thought about his past, with the parade of beautiful women in and out of his life. The club had given him the prestige he’d sought, given him the image he needed to fuel his reckless abandon, and provided plenty of women more than willing to fulfill his superficial and physical needs.

But somewhere between his great aunt’s death and meeting Callie, something had shifted in him. Where he once reveled in the
Scoop’s “
Woman of the Week” column about him, he now wished that they would move on to gossip about someone else.

Callie was a real, giving person. That’s why last night he’d been hypersensitive to the sexual chemistry they shared. He didn’t want her to think she was some kind of conquest, but he wanted the woman bad. His morning hard-on was inconvenient and only made matters that much worse. She shifted against him, and he could tell by her breathing that she was awake.