Love in a Nutshell (19 page)

Kate’s throat tightened. She was going to cry, but damn it, she wasn’t going to do it in front of her idiot, rotten-to-the-core ex.

She pushed at Matt’s arms. “I need to go outside.”

Matt slid his arms away, and Kate hustled for the door. She walked blindly down the parking lot’s first aisle, looking for some privacy and Matt’s truck. It didn’t take long to find something that big and red. She tugged at the passenger-door handle, but the vehicle was locked.

“Hang on,” Matt said from behind her.

Kate turned and flung herself at him. “He gave away my dog to some stranger, Matt. I never should have let him have her.”

Matt rubbed her back and gave her a chance to settle down. After a moment, she stepped back and wished for a tissue.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes. “I feel awful. I should have never trusted him with my dog, but honestly, I didn’t have a choice.”

Matt unlocked the truck and opened the door for her. “Why don’t you take a couple of minutes in some quiet? Harley and Junior have it covered inside.”

Kate nodded and climbed in.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a minute. I just have to…” He gestured back at the market building. Kate figured that could mean anything from “use the facilities” to “hide from the weepy woman.” Either way, he’d been there when she’d needed him, and in her book, he was already a hero for that.

*   *   *

MATT HAD
to sprint the forty like a high school kid to catch up with Kate’s ex, but he did it. Richard was standing next to a black BMW, getting ready to leave.

Matt walked slowly up to Richard, trying his best at friendly. “That was pretty weird stuff in there.”

Richard’s mouth turned down. “It’s always weird with Kate. Fire her now while you have cause.”

“Thanks, but I’ll handle my own employment decisions.”

“Then keep her around, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you. She’s a soul-eater.”

Total bull, but Matt had the feeling this guy dished a lot of that. Matt got down to business. “So, Richard, I couldn’t help overhearing you and Kate, and I’ve gotta say I think you know where her poodle is.”

Richard took a half step closer to his car. “Why would I lie?”

“Good question, since you’re pretty bad at it. You were obviously scrambling when you talked to Kate, and now can’t meet my eyes. So what’s up with the poodle? Susie? Sniffy? Whatever the mutt’s name is?” Matt asked, figuring a little goading might work.

The color started to rise in Richard’s face. “Her name is Stella.”

“See? You care about the dog. It’s obvious. I’m a dog guy, too, and have been for a lot of years. I get the relationship between man and canine. But I’m also a big fan of Kate’s, so if there’s something I can do to help her get her poodle back, I’m going to do it.”

“Is that a threat?”

It was kind of funny that this professor-looking dude was ready to rumble, but Matt wasn’t a rumbler anymore. He didn’t have to be.

“If you’re asking whether I’m going to beat you up over a poodle, the answer is no. If you’re asking whether I’m going to put time and effort into getting to the bottom of this, the answer is yes. And when it comes to Kate, I have all the time in the world.”

“Don’t bother. Stella’s fine.”

“Really? And you claimed you don’t know where she went. Want to tell me the real story?”

Richard hesitated, but finally made a sound of capitulation. “I found her in the city shelter where my fiancée, Shayla, had dropped her. I had some friends adopt her. I visit her all the time.”

So he was cheating on his fiancée with a poodle. Matt couldn’t say he’d encountered that before or wanted to again. Mostly, though, he wanted to ask how the guy could want to marry a woman who’d done what this Shayla had. But he already knew Richard’s judgment sucked. After all, he’d let Kate go.

“Kate would be with the dog full-time,” Matt said. “She loves Stella.”

“I want Stella by me.”

“She’d be better off with Kate.” Matt paused. “And I think you know that.”

After some sour-faced deliberation, Richard pulled a slim notepad and a gold pen from his breast pocket. He scribbled something on a piece of paper, tore it out, and handed it to Matt.

“Give me five minutes before calling,” Richard said. “I’ll need to talk to them first.”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Matt said. He pocketed the paper and hoped this was the very last time he’d see Dognapper Dick.

Fifteen minutes later, after a call comprised of some detailed poodle negotiations, Matt stepped back into the party. Kate was at the merchandise table. She gave him a smile, but it wasn’t up to her usual wattage. Mayor Mortensen and his wife, Missy, stood behind the beer table with Harley and Junior. Missy was as thin and cheery as Torvald Mortensen was rotund and generally glum. After saying hello to Torvald, Matt turned to Missy.

“Kate and I need to go take care of a few things,” he said.

“I do?” Kate asked.

“You do.”

Kate looked confused. “Okay, then.”

“Do you think you could cover the merchandise table?” Matt asked Missy. “The party wraps up at eight.”

“Absolutely. I’d love to help,” Missy said. “Just let me get with Kate and learn the ropes.”

While Kate and Missy talked, Matt made sure the rest of his troops knew what to do: all spare beer in the bins below the table, merchandise boxed and stowed, and everything wiped down and ready to roll when they opened again tomorrow at eleven.

“Come on,” he said to Kate when Missy and she had finished. “We’re going to sneak out on the boss.”

Her smile was a little brighter. “That should be a challenge, especially for you.”

“I’m pretty good at it.”

Now if he could just pull off the rest of his plan.

After giving Kate some lame excuse about picking up supplies, Matt headed his truck out of downtown Royal Oak and south on Woodward Avenue. When they merged onto the freeway heading west, Kate started getting suspicious.

“What kind of supplies are we getting? They must be pretty exotic if you couldn’t have picked them up someplace in Royal Oak.”

“They’re one of a kind,” he said.

“Gotta be,” Kate said before lapsing into silence.

Matt exited the freeway and, a few minutes later, turned into the subdivision he’d been told to look for. Two blocks down, first house on the left, he pulled into a driveway and parked.

“Friends of yours?” Kate asked.

“Not exactly.”

She looked at the unassuming beige brick colonial with its perfectly clipped shrubs. “Okay, this is weird. I feel like I’ve been here before.”

“It’s possible,” he said. “These are friends of Richard’s.”

“And you know this, how?”

“Your ex-husband and I had a talk. The usual guy stuff. We shared, we laughed, we bonded.”

“No, really,” Kate said.

“And he told me where your poodle is.”

“Stella?
Here?
” She opened the truck door.

He settled a hand on her arm. “Before you go all Rambo, here’s the deal. These people have had your poodle for almost six months. They love her and think of her as their own. They’ve even renamed her Bitsy.”

“
Bitsy?
Granted, living here is better than what I’d imagined for her, but Bitsy? They probably have her in a pink ruffled collar and clipped with a little ball at the end of her tail. I need to go get her.”

Matt held his palms toward her, trying to slow her down a little. “In a second, but first you have to listen. The only way they’re going to let her leave with you is if she does it of her own free will.”

He didn’t add that if the poodle picked Kate, he’d be buying the couple a replacement dog. That was his bargain and his responsibility.

“You mean I have to sweet talk my own dog back to me when we haven’t seen each other for over a year?”

He nodded. “That’s the deal.”

“It’s insane.”

“I know, but it was the best I could do.” And that had taken some major persuading.

She drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Okay. I can do this.”

They walked to the front porch, and Kate’s finger hovered over the doorbell as she asked, “How am I going to handle it if she doesn’t choose me?”

Matt spoke from the heart. “How could she not?”

As Kate stood waiting for the door to open, she finally recalled who would be on the other side—Myrna and Ed Savage. They were a nice couple about twenty years older than she. Ed was an accountant and one of Richard’s clients. Kate had been to a dinner here once, years ago. She’d reciprocated, and that had been the end of any couples’ socializing. She thought maybe Richard and Ed still golfed together, though.

The door swung open, and Myrna greeted them. She looked no happier to see Kate than Kate felt about this entire mess. But since this wasn’t the Savages’ fault, Kate took care to be super polite.

Myrna ushered them into the living room, where Ed stood waiting with a dog’s travel crate at his feet. Kate caught a glimpse of Stella’s ginger coat and her heart began to drum. She wouldn’t be able to breathe properly until this was done and she had her poodle back.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to propose a few guidelines,” she said to the couple. “How about if you’re on one side of the room, and I’m on the other? Matt can put Stella—”

Myrna stood her ground. “Bitsy.”

“The poodle,” Matt suggested.

Kate pressed her lips together. “Matt can put
the poodle
in the middle of the room. Whoever she goes to first, keeps her.”

“How do I know you’re not cheating?” Myrna said, suspiciously sniffing Kate. “You smell like bacon.”

Kate emptied her pockets onto the table. No bacon. Myrna sniffed again. “I think you still smell like bacon.”

Matt picked up a can of Febreze from beside the couch. He generously sprayed both the women and stepped back. “Okay, then. Let’s do it,” Kate said, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants legs.

Matt retrieved the travel crate from Ed while Myrna moved to her husband’s side.

Matt placed himself in the middle of the room. “Everybody ready?”

“Yes.”

Matt opened the crate and withdrew Stella, who emerged with an obvious show of stubbornness. She didn’t care that she weighed five pounds. She was mistress of her own domain.

Stella looked healthy, though she probably felt a little embarrassed by the hokey haircut—a pom on the end of her tail and balls on each hip, just as Kate had suspected.

Stella looked around, her brown eyes bright with curiosity, and Kate focused on her poodle, willing her to look her way.
Please, baby. Please remember me.

Matt set Stella down.

Myrna clapped her hands and made some kissy noises. “Bitsy-kins. Come to Mommy.”

Stella looked Myrna’s way once, then took a casual sniff at Matt’s shoe before turning away from him, too. Kate smiled. Who wouldn’t love a poodle that played hard to get?

“Come on, Bitsy.… Be a good precious babykins,” Myrna cooed.

Kate figured that even in the time Stella and she had been apart, her dog couldn’t have had a personality transplant. And that being the case, Kate knew just what to do. She plopped herself down on the beige carpet, her back to the beige wall, and feigned total disinterest.

Stella grew a tad miffed at Kate’s nonchalance. She took one step, then another toward Kate, just as Kate had hoped. Now was the time for a little girl talk, Stella-style.

“Hey, Stella,” Kate said. “You’re looking pretty good. How have you been doing? Scare any Dobermans lately?”

Stella’s ears perked up, and she ran to Kate and settled in her lap.

Kate nestled her cheek against Stella’s soft fur. “You’re the Best Dog Ever. I missed you so much.”

And Matt was the Best Man Ever, Kate thought. He’d brought her back together with her Stella.

FOURTEEN

Stella must have been royalty in a prior life. Kate could find no other reason for the dog to be so unimpressed with the hotel Matt had chosen. Kate, on the other hand, was wowed by the Townley Inn. Her room looked like something out of an English country manor—all dark woods, plush carpets, and rich upholstery. And her bed was a fantasy-worthy, feather-down dream made for lovers. At the moment, though, she shared it with a cranky poodle.

Kate sat alongside the dog at the end of the mattress. Matt sat opposite them in a desk chair he’d pulled up to their white-linen-covered room service cart. “They must have been feeding her from the table,” Kate said. “Look at the way she’s turning up her nose at the food I bought her. It’s going to be tough getting her back on regular dog food.”

Stella was eyeing the final bite of tenderloin on Matt’s plate. He speared the meat with his fork, and the poodle huffed out a sigh as her last shot at prime beef disappeared down Matt’s throat.

Chicken breast with roasted autumn vegetables demolished, Kate set her fork aside. “Have I thanked you for Stella in the last ten minutes?”

Matt’s expression was a cross between amusement and resignation. “I just did what any other guy would have.”

“Not Richard.”

“No, not Richard.”

There were a lot of things about her ex she could have shared with Matt, but none of them really mattered.

“Luckily, he’s not my problem anymore,” she said.

Matt smiled at her, his eyes softened, and the room grew warmer as those big bed fantasies charged to the front of Kate’s mind.

“I’ll clear the cart to the hall,” Matt said.

Kate watched him push the cart out the door. This was it, she thought. Here they were in a romantic hotel room. Just the two of them … and Stella. Perfect, right? Wrong. Not perfect. For starters, she was wearing a T-shirt that advertised beer. Plus, she suspected her lipstick had gotten gnawed off at Myrna’s, and her hair was a wreck. He, on the other hand, was hot. His T-shirt molded suggestively to his gorgeous body. His butt looked great in his jeans. His hair was tousled just enough to be sexy, and he had a manly five o’clock shadow going.

Okay, don’t panic, she told herself. Get a grip. Should she stand? Should she sit? Should she lounge back onto the bed? Should she get undressed? No, definitely no undressing. She wasn’t ready for undressing.