Love Is a Four-Legged Word (19 page)

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Authors: Kandy Shepherd

BOOK: Love Is a Four-Legged Word
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“Oh, forget it,” Tom muttered. He’d try this again at some other time. He leaned down to pat Brutus. Though he doubted he would ever forgive him for last night, he was glad the poor dog had recovered from his sedative-induced stupor.
Brutus headed toward the kitchen and his food bowl. The kitchen was off the living room—part of the modern, spacious layout Tom liked. It gave him a jolt to see Maddy quite at home and busy at his state-of-the-art stainless steel stove. A warm and fuzzy kind of feeling crept through him—and he wasn’t too sure how to handle it.
“Good morning,” Maddy said in a chirpy voice.
She’d obviously had a good night’s sleep, he thought a little sourly.
“You’ve been running?”
She looked ready for exercise herself in shorts and a crop top. Hmm, resident chef wearing revealing, sexy sport outfit in kitchen—the scenario was getting better and better.
He tried not to stare—difficult when he now knew exactly how gorgeous her body looked without any clothes. He forced himself not to think about how she’d looked standing nearly naked at the door of the bathroom last night.
He nodded. “I left early, didn’t hear a sound from your room.” Her room that was really his room. His room that he’d spent half the night fantasizing about sharing with her.
“Yes. I heard the door shut. Prompted us to get up and go out, too.”
“Us?”
“Me and Brutus. Um, I mean Bruce.”
He felt a stab of alarm. “You went out? With Brutus? Maddy, do you think that was wise? Stoddard—”
“I didn’t think Jerome would be out and about this early. He doesn’t strike me as the early-rising type.”
He groaned. “Who knows what the guy is capable of? Did you have Brutus—I mean Bruce—in the basket?”
“I tried, I really did try. But it was impossible to keep him still. In the end I slid him under my big jacket and held him tightly against me.”
“And that worked?”
“I got away with it. I just looked fatter.”
“But what if he’d barked?”
“I kept my hand over his mouth until we got away from the building. I wasn’t taking any risks.”
Tom breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to draw attention to his apartment while Maddy and Brutus were in hiding, lest Jerome or the press get a whiff of her whereabouts.
He watched Brutus nudge his already-licked-empty food bowl around the kitchen floor, just in case there was something he’d missed.
“Where did you take him? There’s not much down there for dogs.”
“No. It’s definitely city-dweller territory.”
He’d chosen this apartment for its proximity to the Financial District. And then there was the bonus of the AT&T Park. What guy wouldn’t want to live just a stroll away from the home of the San Francisco Giants? “Great, isn’t it?”
“For humans, maybe. Not so great for dogs. There are nice restaurants. But all the trees are blocked in with cement and there’s only one well-used patch of grass nearby.”
“Lucky you found it.”
“Thankfully for Brutus’s bladder. Nora, your next-door neighbor, pointed me in the right direction.”
“Nora, my next-door neighbor? You told my neighbor we’ve got a dog here? Maddy, you know it’s strictly no—”
“No pets.Yes, I know. Let me explain. We were going down in the elevator together. She introduced herself—she’s very nice by the way. Then Brutus growled at her . . .”
Tom swore. Then noticed Maddy’s eyes dancing and her lips twitching with a smile she was having trouble suppressing.
“Go on,” he said.
“My heart stopped. Then I noticed her shopping bag was moving.”
“
Her
shopping bag was moving?”
“Yes. Because she smuggles Max, her cat, downstairs inside it.”
“She’s got a cat?”
“Yes. Nora is a widow, and she moved here from a big house in Oakland. But she couldn’t bear to leave Max.You should see him, he’s beautiful, a brown Burmese.”
Amazing how women knew each other’s life stories within minutes of meeting. He’d been living next door to the older lady for a year and had never gotten past a polite nod.
“Right. Maddy, I don’t really care what color the cat is, I just want to know what Mrs. Green—Nora—is going to do now she knows we’re hiding a dog in here.”
“Nothing. You keep her secret; she’ll keep yours.”
“Sounds fair.”
“And the good news is she’s happy to dog-sit for us if we need her to.”
“Dog-sit?”
“Yes. We might have to take her up on the offer. I can test recipes and write copy here early in the week but I have to be dog-free on Wednesday for the audition.”
“Audition?”
She smiled a megawatt smile. “In all the Brutus drama last night I forgot to tell you. I’ve got the audition for the television show.”
“Maddy, that’s great.” He was so pleased for her he wanted to lean across and kiss her, but he wasn’t too sure of his current status.
Had she put a limit on kissing occasions again? Last night had been amazing—more than amazing—and he didn’t want to wreck his chances of moving on to step six—and beyond, at some later stage. Preferably some not-too-much-later stage.
“That’s great,” he repeated.
“And I’ve been appointed food editor of
Annie
magazine. It’s official.”
“Congratulations. Everything you wanted.” He felt genuinely happy for her.
“I’m still buzzing,” she said. Then her mouth turned downward. “But if the press keeps painting me as some kind of money-hungry skank, the editor in chief might reconsider.”
“Another reason we
have
to keep your whereabouts secret.” He opened the newspaper he’d carried in with him. “Did you see this when you were out?” He showed her the headline. “Nephew to Contest Secret Millionaire’s Will.” It accompanied yet another photo of Stoddard.
Maddy groaned. “Will it never end?”
“Yes. When some new celebrity scandal or another erupts. But in the meantime the millionaire mutt is news. And so are you.”
“I’ll call my editor and ask her if I can do my work from here. I’ve done my photographic shoots. I’m sure she’ll be okay about it.”
“That would be wise.”
She turned to face the kitchen countertop. “I hope you eat cantaloupe. And how do you like your eggs? I thought scrambled might be good, but if you want them fried or poached I can do that, too.”
Tom groaned. Eggs and bacon. Right on the cholesterol hit list. And his favorite breakfast.
“Maddy, I don’t eat eggs for breakfast.”
Her face fell. “I thought men liked a hearty breakfast. My fathers and brothers do.”
“They work on the land, they probably need it.”
“There was hardly anything in your fridge, just low-fat milk and some bran cereal.”
“That’s what I usually have in the mornings.”
She pulled a face. “And for your other meals?”
“I can eat at a different restaurant every night of the week.”
“Not while I’m staying here you won’t,” she said. “I bought the bacon and eggs at the convenience store up the road near where I was walking Brutus. I’ll cook for you while I’m your guest.”
Both his heart and his stomach warmed at the thought of it. “Maddy, you don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do.” She looked up, her eyes wide and sincere. “Tom, I really appreciate you helping Brutus and me. The least I can do is keep you well fed. What’s the point of having a chef as a guest otherwise?”
“Maddy, that’s sweet but—”
“No buts—”
“But—”
She smiled. “Okay, maybe one but.”
He didn’t feel comfortable talking to Maddy about why he was so careful with what he ate. It might make him seem weak to her. Eggs on the occasional morning wouldn’t hurt. But he couldn’t make a habit of scarfing down brownies and the rich foods Maddy seemed to favor cooking.
That said, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He knew from when he’d lived with his mother and sister that rejecting their food made them think he was rejecting them.
He pushed his hand through his hair. “Maddy, I have to watch what I eat.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.What’s the problem, high cholesterol?”
“Yes, I mean, no.” Hell, he didn’t want her to think he was a heart-attack candidate at age thirty. “I don’t actually have high cholesterol myself, but my father did and he died of a heart attack before he was fifty.”
“I’m sorry,” Maddy murmured. “I . . . uh . . . read about your dad in that sleazy newspaper story. And you’re worried you might inherit the problem?”
“The doctors figure I’m fine. But the way I look at it, it doesn’t hurt to increase my odds by eating well and keeping fit.”
His father had smoked like a chimney, ate what he felt like, and had tried to keep up with his gold-digging young second wife. No way would Tom make the same mistakes. No way would he ever be so thoughtless of the people who counted on him.
Maddy’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Hmm. This is quite a challenge. Low fat but still satisfying . . . Not what I’m known for, but I’ll do my best.” She grinned. “Mind if I experiment on you?”
“Experiment all you like,” he said, trying not to think of other ways he’d like her to experiment on him—and he on her. But he wasn’t going to try to get her back into his bed—that is, back into his bed with him also in it—until she gave the word.
 
 
 
Maddy went to put the eggs back in the refrigerator. Hang on, what was Serena’s favorite low-cal breakfast? She shuddered at the thought of it. “Right, Tom, first up is an egg-white omelet. Maybe with some of that celery chopped through it. I’ll give the bacon to Brutus.”
She almost laughed out loud at the look on Tom’s face. “No need to do that. Today the bacon will be just fine. And you could poach a couple eggs for me.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Do I have time for a shower first?”
He indicated the running gear he was wearing. She had to force herself not to ogle him. Hot, sweaty, and 200 percent male, in shorts and an athletic singlet that clung to every muscle, Tom O’Brien had a body to die for. In a business suit he was a ten out of ten. Out of a suit his rating rocketed off the scale.
The entire time they’d been discussing Brutus, Nora next door, and high cholesterol, she’d been sneaking surreptitious glances at his magnificent physique. This morning was her first sight of his bare legs—they were long and leanly muscled and just as gorgeous as his top half.
Turn around,Tom, turn around so I can check out your great butt again, she thought. What would he do if she actually said that?
It was a crime to tie this man up in a business suit. No, it was good to cover him up in a suit so other women couldn’t see him and lust after him. Maddy felt seared by jealousy at the thought.
Tom and another woman. She couldn’t bear it. Especially after last night and the bliss of his kisses.
Afterward, alone in Tom’s enormous bed, she hadn’t known whether to be grateful or not to Brutus for his ill-timed barfing. How many heat-fuelled steps might she have climbed with Tom otherwise? And what about his last words? He was planning on other kissing occasions, a step-by-step seduction.
And she? She still wasn’t sure she wanted to risk the inevitable pain of getting involved with a man whose life was so rigidly organized.
He was an ambitious lawyer, yes. She respected that.Yet living his life to a preset plan seemed at odds with a man who admitted to liking animated movies. Who appeared to be so pleasingly protective and yet so feared commitment.
But that dichotomy of character was one of the reasons she was so attracted to Tom. So attracted that her heart was singing at the thought of spending the next eight days living with him in his apartment.
“I think you look good in your running shorts. But if you’d feel more comfortable taking a shower, go for it. Just move my undies out of the way from where they’re drying over the bathtub.”
“Women’s panties in my bathroom,” Tom grumbled. But she actually thought he looked pleased.
“And don’t use my lavender body wash,” she called after him. “It’s French and it’s only for girls.”
When Tom returned, hair damp from the shower and brushed back from his face, he was dressed once more in his corporate uniform of dark suit and tie.
“I have to go straight into the office,” he said as he sat down at the table for breakfast.
Maddy couldn’t help a stab of disappointment. “That’s a shame,” she said, keeping her voice light as she took whole-wheat toast from the toaster. No butter for Tom.
He went to shrug and then did that curious no-shrug thing again.
“I notice you seem to have some trouble with your shoulder,” she said. She slid his plate of melon in front of him, then set down her own.
“I . . . uh . . . I’m trying not to shrug as you hate it so much.”
She hated it so much? “Oh. You mean Jerome.” He wasn’t shrugging because she didn’t like it? What a sweetie. She liked him more every minute she spent in his company.
“Tom, don’t stop shrugging on my account. I just don’t like Jerome’s totally insincere way of doing it.”
She sat down opposite him, looking into the brown eyes that had grown so familiar. Brown eyes that were warm with passion when he kissed her and that could also be bright with humor. “Shrug away as much as you please.”
“Okay,” he said and shrugged those broad shoulders in a big, exaggerated way. Maddy laughed and so did he.
“It’s a shame I have to leave you here by yourself,” he said as, after they’d eaten their melon, she got up to change their plates.
“Well, not quite by myself. I do have Brutus to talk to.”
“Of course. Do tell me the day he talks back, won’t you?”
“Of course,” she echoed.
Brutus had given up snuffling around the kitchen for snacks and was sitting at the window looking plaintively out at the marina. There wasn’t even half a wag in his tail. He was a dog used to a certain amount of freedom.

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