Authors: Natale Stenzel
“Oh. Already?”
“We-ell . . .”
A reluctant flash-shimmer and she had a dog sitting on her couch. One with annoyed golden eyes staring at her. And she completely
ignored her own relief at seeing his familiar canine self. That other . . . That had been strange, disturbing, exciting, weird,
just plain odd. A question mark she didn’t want to answer. Dog was so much simpler. “I’m sorry. It has to be this way when
the contractors are here.”
“Just remember that I. Am. Not. A. Dog.”
“Fine. You’re not a dog.” Not that it made sense to be saying such to a four-legged creature with floppy ears and tail. Factor
in the freaky eyes and command of the English language, however . . .
“So, what do you think your buddy Teague will make for dinner?” Riordan let his tongue loll out of his mouth while Mina groaned.
“I don’t know. I was just in the mood for steak tonight.” Teague smiled a little sheepishly as he showed Mina and her dog
into his townhouse that evening. “I hope that’s okay. They’ve been marinating and I thought I’d just toss them on the grill
for a while along with some potatoes. I have salad makings, too, if that suits you.”
“Sounds great.” Mina snuck a glance at Riordan, who was prancing with excitement.
Teague was also watching the restless canine. “Does he need to go out or something?”
“Hmm?” Mina glanced up. “Oh, he’s just excited. I think maybe he likes you.”
The man’s cooking steak. What’s not to like? Tell him you
want yours rare. The bloodier the better. And I want butter and
sour cream on the potato, but you can do whatever you want with
the salad. I was never much for vegetables, so that’s all yours.
Gee, thanks. She gave him a sarcastic look before turning back to Teague, who was bending down to Riordan. As he met Riordan’s
eyes, a startled Teague rocked back from his haunches to land flat on his butt. “This dog . . . Hell, that’s no dog. He’s
Satan with ears. Holy shit!”
Ooops.
Mina growled silently at Riordan. I told you to keep the eyes slitted, demon boy. She turned to Teague, who looked as though
he wanted to search out a crucifix and holy water. “Teague, I’m sorry. I should have warned you. He has . . . an eye condition.
Sees mostly shadows and light.” Run into something, would you?
“But they’re yellow. Yellow eyes? That’s not natural.”
“No, actually, they’re a pale—really pale—hazel. The light just catches them funny. Now, please, be nice to him. He’s had
a hard life. The eyes seem to scare people.” When Teague still regarded the dog with suspicion, she gave Teague a wide-eyed,
appealing look. “In fact, I think his eyes are the reason his previous owner used to beat him.”
That did the trick. The suspicion fading to surprise, Teague met her eyes for a moment, then, hesitantly, turned back to Riordan.
“Beat him? Who the hell would beat a dog? Well, maybe
this
dog. I swear it looks possessed, Mina. You’re sure?”
“That’s what the animal shelter told me before I adopted him. He’s been abused.” And if he doesn’t remember to hide his damn
eyes from now on, he’s going to be even more abused.
Right. Squint so as not to scare the wimpy humans. You guys
are so superstitious.
So says the puca cursed by ancient Druids to live inside a rock. Why in the world would people be superstitious?
“Well, okay.” Frowning, Teague rolled onto his knees and, after thinking a moment, held out a hand for Riordan to sniff.
Oh, come on. Do I gotta?
If you want steak, you damn well better.
Silent doggy groan before Riordan reluctantly approached Teague’s hand, arrogantly sniffed it then—
Don’t even think about peeing on his floor.
Riordan lowered the leg enough to turn the gesture into a brief scratch.
There’s absolutely no dignity in this. What is
with you people? Your ancestors used to revere me. Or at least
fear me. Now I’m reduced to doggy status to keep you guys from
peeing all over yourselves in terror.
That doesn’t give you an excuse to pee on an innocent man’s floor out of spite. Now think steak and try to behave.
Still grumble-growling under his breath, Riordan slunk off to a corner and curled up for a nap.
Thank God. Mina turned back to Teague. “Thanks for being patient with him.”
“No problem. Like I said, the dog’s eyes do throw you when you first look at them . . . but I never could stand the idea of
somebody abusing the small or helpless.”
More grumble-growling in the corner, which Mina ignored.
Instead, she concentrated on the man in front of her. “That’s because
you’d
never do something like that.” He really was a nice man. The dog unnerved him that much and he could still feel sympathy for
it and show patience for a grumpy temperament. And she couldn’t forget his kindness to her on the day they first met. Kindness
to a grumpy stranger and freaky dog. “You’d never intentionally hurt or use somebody just to achieve your own ends.”
Teague stared a moment, obviously disarmed. “No. Well, I hope I wouldn’t.” He frowned. “So. What can I get you to drink? I
have water, soda, OJ, wine, beer . . .”
“Wine sounds good. Thanks.” She followed him into the kitchenette, which was separated from the dining and living areas by
a small bar with stools. An impressive array of pots and pans hung from hooks on the wall. “You cook.”
Teague followed her gaze to his wall and grinned a little sheepishly. “That would be my mom’s doing. Both the stuff hanging
from the wall and knowing how to use all of it.”
“Useful skills.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “So the man can build a house and he can cook a meal in its kitchen. You’re
some kind of catch, Mr. Just Teague.”
He flashed a cocky grin. “Don’t I know it.”
She rolled her eyes, laughing. “What can I do to help?”
He pulled open the fridge, grabbed bags of greens and veggies and set them on the counter. “Do you chop?”
“I chop.” She rolled up her sleeves and accepted the knife and cutting board he handed her.
“Great. You’ll find a bowl over there if you want to finish up the salad while I see to the steaks and potatoes.”
With a smile, he strode past her and headed out to the balcony. He closed the sliding doors behind him, shutting out the smoke
from the grill and leaving Mina alone with Riordan.
“So, are we liking this guy?” Riordan piped up broodingly.
“Yes. We are. Is that a problem? Even better, do I really care? This is
my
life I’m trying to lead. In spite of you.”
“Believe it or not, I don’t like screwing up your life.”
She eyed him a moment before pulling a head of lettuce out of a bag. “Believe it or not . . . I do believe that. I also think
we have a problem on our hands. A long-term problem.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you—”
The sliding door snicked open and Teague strode in. “Just a little while now and everything will be ready.”
“Great.” She smiled. “It smells wonderful.”
Later, they sat down at the little table, smiling at each other across candles Teague had been sweet enough to light. A man
who remembered his candles definitely had a romantic streak, she decided. That was a plus.
As she bit into a piece of steak, she was well aware of Riordan’s eyes fixed covetously on her mouth. Darn it, she couldn’t
even enjoy a meal without him butting in.
Sorry. Just . . . doggy bag? Please?
She cleared her throat, trying not to lose her smile. “This is wonderful. Much better than any restaurant.”
“You know, I think so, too. Not because I think I’m some incredible chef, but because now we have privacy—and no annoyingly
helpful waitstaff dropping in every five minutes.” He nodded at her plate. “You sure your steak is okay? I can cook it a little
longer if it’s too pink for you.”
“Oh, no. It’s perfect.” A little too pink, but not the
bloody
that Riordan had requested. So sorry, mutt, but I refuse to introduce myself to my food before I eat it. Yuck.
Beggars can’t be choosers.
It would be nice once in a while if you remembered that.
Hmph.
“So tell me, Teague. How did you get into the home renovation business? Something you always wanted to do or a side road that
led you from an original ambition?”
He shrugged. “A little of both, actually. I studied originally to be an architect, but I really, honestly like to have my
hands all over the job, too.”
“Control freak, ” she teased him.
He laughed. “Yeah, some of that. But I like to see a job through from beginning to end, from the planning to the doing. This
lets me do that.”
“Sounds satisfying.”
“Yeah, it is. When it’s not a complete headache.” He smiled, then, studying her, let the smile fade. “What about you? Is teaching
what you love? What are you going to do now?”
“Yes, teaching’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and”—she laughed, a little uncomfortably—“believe it or not, it’s just possible
that I’ll have my job back next semester.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugged. “I guess my nemesis had a change of heart and convinced other people to have one, too.”
“That’s wild. I mean, in a good way, but really wild. I would have thought the paperwork and red tape would be too ugly to
allow for a change that quick.”
“Go figure. I guess my”—she glanced in the corner at the seemingly snoozing Riordan—“
guardian angel
was working overtime.” And then some. No one had been more amazed than she was this afternoon when Tiffy, still flying high
on her religious experience with the puca, had called, all hyped up about her efforts on Mina’s behalf. Mina really and truly
would have her job back after semester break. They hadn’t hired a replacement, other than a substitute to fill in for half
a year, so the red tape had actually been minimal.
Naturally, Riordan had assumed the worst about Tiffy’s methods of persuasion. Not that he was necessarily wrong. It was quite
possible that Tiffy
had
screwed more than one school administrator, thereby giving her all kinds of leverage. Which she’d used on Mina’s behalf. Poetic
justice? Possibly. Mina was just happy to see satisfying employment in her near future.
“Well, that’s great. What do you do in the meantime?”
“Play fast and loose with my credit cards, I guess. I do have some savings. I’ll do okay.”
He frowned. “Well, if things get tight—”
“Don’t even say it. Really. We’re not going there.”
He shrugged. “I was just going to offer to let you make payments at a slower rate. Not charity. Just consideration.”
“Let’s see if insurance takes care of it like you said, though.”
“I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
“And that’s it for the business talk. Agreed?”
She laughed. “You got it. So tell me about the neighborhood. I read recently that . . .”
Conversation flowed, and Mina found herself relaxing with Teague more than she ever remembered relaxing with Jackson. Her
ex had always expected her to be on her toes. Politically correct, academically accomplished, everything. With Teague, she
was just herself. Occasionally goofy, occasionally bawdy, and always natural. He seemed the same with her.
So it was with regret that she called it an early evening. She knew he had to be up early the next day and, frankly, she knew
she was pushing her luck with Riordan, whose glowing yellow glares were increasingly belligerent. Hey, she couldn’t help it
if Teague ate the rest of her steak. It was rude to ask for a doggy bag in somebody else’s home.
She did feel bad for Riordan, though. Maybe a great breakfast in the morning would cheer him up.
You wish.
He scrabbled around on the back seat of Teague’s car, obviously looking for a comfortable spot.
I
can’t believe you made me miss out on steak. That was cold.
It just wasn’t appropriate. I’m sorry. You can share breakfast with me tomorrow.
Didn’t I see ice cream in the freezer? I think I’d like to try ice
cream.
You’ve never had ice cream? She was appalled.
Sullen silence.
She felt even guiltier.
Soon, they were pulling up in front of the house and Riordan slunk out of the car like a wolf, waiting—and obviously resenting
it—for Mina to catch up so he didn’t run into one of those invisible walls again and land on his butt. She hurried ahead and
unlocked the door, letting Riordan plod past her before turning to Teague. “Want a drink or something? Coffee?” A kiss . .
.
Riordan grumble-growled and slunk off to the bedroom in obvious disgust.
“Sounds great.” He stepped past her, looking around. “You’re not having too much draft coming in through the kitchen, are
you? I’m sealing that wall off as fast as I can.”
“I know you are. I’m doing okay. Good thing it’s been so warm this past week.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Now I have a confession to make.”
“What?”
“I don’t want a drink and, honestly, I wasn’t all that worried about a draft. I really just wanted to get the girl on the
couch to steal a kiss.”
She laughed and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Maybe I have a similar confession to make.”
“Oh, yeah?” Grinning, he snagged her hand and tugged her along with him. He rounded the coffee table and dropped onto the
couch, pulling her down with him. “Now, let’s see. How about . . .” He tipped his head from side to side as though weighing
his options. “Yeah, I really do think . . .” He teasingly tipped her across his lap and lowered his smile to her lips.
Laughing, Mina slid her arms around his neck and met his mouth with eager curiosity. A gentle, teasing hello of a kiss lengthened
and deepened into something warmer, then hotter. Soon hands were growing restless, exploring shoulders and tender ribs and
venturing further. Just as Teague started tugging at her shirt, Mina heard a scuffle in the bedroom.
Dog toenails against hardwood floor.
Riordan. Mina broke off the kiss to stare dazedly into Teague’s eyes. He looked as blurrily aroused as she felt, then bent
to her mouth for more.
Another scuffle.
Mina pulled back. This was unreal. Mr. Fairytale, right here, big as life and in the mood to prove every inch of himself .
. . and she had a puca in her bedroom, privy to her thoughts and their every move. Not a damn thing she could do about it.
“Mina? What’s wrong? I thought—”
“Yeah.” Her breath caught. “I did, too. I just—”
You’re gonna make him stop? But it was just getting good.
Shut up, you voyeuristic perv.
Now I’m hurt.
Riordan. Just hush. Please. So I can think.
Silence.
Mina focused on Teague. “We’re moving too fast.” Yeah, there was a good generic. A complete lie. Or maybe not? “I just don’t
want to mess things up by missing a step. Or something.”