Parker almost put the puppy back down. He didn’t like ultimatums. But the little bugger attacked his shirt pocket just then, and the tug-of-war began again. “I think he likes me.”
“Birds of a feather flock together.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’re stubborn, irascible, snarly, and recalcitrant. As I recall, I’ve called you a blockhead more than once. The two of you suit each other.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“You’re also loyal and lovable,” she added.
“You forgot handsome.”
“With that nose?”
“You looked in the mirror lately?” he countered.
“The Harrigan schnozzle looks better on me than it does on you.”
“Who says?”
Her dimple deepened. “Tucker. He
adores
my nose.”
“Yeah, well, he’s addled.” The puppy let loose with a deep growl that sounded amazingly ferocious coming from such a tiny attacker. Parker chuckled. “He’s awesome, Sam. I think I’ve found a soul mate.” He glanced back at her. “I’ll keep him. You have my word.”
After erecting the promised puppy barriers, Parker collected his dog and started to leave.
Sam searched his gaze. “Who would have thunk it? My brother, smitten with a puppy.”
“He’s no ordinary puppy. He’s got mojo.”
The office door swung open with such force that it whacked the interior wall, making Rainie jump. Then a huge blue thing appeared in the doorway. Judging by all the grunting and muffled cursing, Parker was somewhere behind it.
“What on earth?” She jumped up from the desk. “Do you need help?”
His dark head appeared. In the light coming through the window behind her, his freshly shaved jaw gleamed, his skin the color of caramel. The blue collar of his shirt framed the thick, corded column of his sun-burnished neck. The weathered toughness around his mouth and eyes was purely masculine, an attribute that she should have found repugnant, but instead it sent her senses spinning, making her feel like a schoolgirl in the throes of her first crush.
Not good.
Developing feelings for this man was not part of her game plan.
“It’s not heavy, just cumbersome,” he assured her.
Rainie doubted that he considered much of anything to be heavy. She didn’t dally in the stable area often, but in passing, she’d seen him bucking bales of hay as if they weighed barely anything. He had a naturally trim and athletic build that had been padded with steely muscle by a lifetime of hard work.
“What in heaven’s name is this thing?” she asked, grabbing hold of one end to help work it through the doorway.
“A wadin’ pool. You in the mood for a dip?”
The question was so silly it didn’t deserve an answer. “What’s it for?”
“Mojo.”
“Mojo?”
“Yeah, I got myself a dog. Normally, I’m not much for dogs, but he’s a charmer. That’s how come I’m namin’ him Mojo.”
Rainie backed up to make room for the pool, which was about five feet in diameter. “Where is he?”
“On the floorboard of my truck, goin’ one-on-one with the gearshift boot.”
Rainie had no idea what a gearshift boot was. The pool took up most of the walking space after they plopped it on the floor. Bewildered, Rainie said, “One-on-one? I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“He’s a puppy with an attitude. He attacks everything.” Standing at the opposite side of the pool, Parker winked at her. A lazy smile flirted at the corners of his mouth. “I sure hope you don’t mind helpin’ me watch him durin’ the day. He’s a tad too young yet to be around the horses. He might get stepped on.”
Because of her dad’s allergies Rainie had never had a puppy, but she figured she could do almost anything for sixty grand a year. “Of course.” She glanced at the pool again. “I’ll help however I can. But what is this for?”
“Playpen. This way when he piddles, he won’t do it on the floor. I got the idea from my sister, Sam.” He plucked a thick stack of newspapers from under his arm. “I picked these up to use as liners. When he makes a mess, all we’ll have to do is pull the soiled sheet and put in another one.”
“That sounds simple enough.”
He nodded, gave her meal instructions, and said, “I’ll go get him and the food, then. You sure you won’t mind if I leave him in the office with you when I’m workin’?”
“Not at all.”
Thirty minutes later, Rainie had come to regret those words. The moment Parker left the office, Mojo tumbled over the edge of the wading pool and squatted to pee.
“No!” Rainie cried, racing to save the plank floor. Unfortunately, Mojo was a quick whizzer. He had finished and waddled under the desk before she could reach him. “Now look what you’ve done.”
Rainie went to the coffee room for some paper towels and disinfectant. While she cleaned up the mess, the puppy discovered a pile of invoices that she’d set on the floor by her desk chair. Before she’d finished mopping up, he was attacking the papers like a miniature shredding machine.
“Stop it! Bad,
bad
puppy!” Rainie cried, but Mojo apparently had a hearing problem.
She scurried over to rescue the documents. As she bent to gather them up, her calf-length skirt grazed the floor, and the tiny rottweiler latched onto the hem. His little jaws were like metal clamps. She couldn’t pry them apart. As she tried, he let loose with a ferocious growl and went into reverse, tugging on the cloth with all his strength.
Rainie burst out laughing. “I don’t have time to play,” she protested. “I’m supposed to be working.”
But, once again, Mojo wasn’t listening. Finally Rainie surrendered and sat cross-legged on the floor to engage in a gentle game of tug-of-war. The skirt was ancient, anyway. If Mojo ripped it to shreds, she’d be out only two dollars. He was so
sweet
. As she ran her hands over his warm, plump body, her heart melted.
When Parker returned to the office with lunch, Rainie stood at the file cabinet with the puppy dangling from the hem of her skirt. In order to hold on and follow when Rainie moved, Mojo stood upright on his tiny back legs. Parker noticed that Rainie took baby steps to accommodate the short stride of her new fashion accessory.
“How’s it goin’?” he asked.
Parker wasn’t sure what her response might be. He was half-afraid she might hand him a letter of resignation. Instead she laughed, a sweet, airy sound that could easily become addictive.
“
Slowly.
The pool doesn’t work as a playpen. Over the course of the last two hours, I’ve gotten almost nothing done. He’s piddled three times and gone poo once, all on the floor. When he’s not busy making messes, he’s tugging on my skirt, chewing on my boots, or gnawing on the desks.”
Parker carried the pizza box over and set it down. “I could lock him in one of the sheds while I’m workin’, I guess.”
Her eyes widened with dismay. “That would be cruel. He’s just a baby. He needs company.”
“He oughta sleep some of the time. Have you fed him?” As per Samantha’s instructions, Parker had gotten a bunch of pureed meat, a box of infant rice cereal, and canned milk. According to his sister, a soft, runny mixture of those three ingredients, heavy on the meat, was more nutritious than dry kibble for a rottweiler puppy Mojo’s age. “Most babies get drowsy with their bellies full.”
“I fed him.”
Rainie bent to pick up the puppy. As she worked Mojo’s teeth loose from the hem of her skirt, Parker got a mind-boggling glimpse of gorgeous legs. Her skin was the color of saddle soap, milky and sort of translucent-looking. He would have bet his Stetson that it felt just as silky, too. One of his favorite things was to open a brand-new tin of saddle soap. He liked how it went warm and slick onto his fingertips—like certain places on the body of a well-loved woman.
What the
hell
was he thinking? Parker jerked himself up short. He was losing his mind. That had to be it. He never looked at one of his female employees and entertained lascivious thoughts. Well, hardly ever, anyway. And when a thought like that did flit through his mind, he never let it remain there long enough to give him a hard-on.
Shit.
What if Rainie noticed? She was just now coming to trust him a little.
Perfect, Parker. Why don’t you drool while you’re at it?
He swung away to hang his hat on one of the pegs by the door.
Down, boy.
Unfortunately, that particular part of his anatomy had a mind of its own. “Excuse me a second,” he said over his shoulder. “I just remembered somethin’ I need to go do.”
“Don’t be so long you let the pizza get cold.”
Right at the moment, Parker doubted he would notice if the cheese had ice crystals on it. He stepped out into the hallway and closed the door.
Damn.
He went to the tack room to lounge against a saddle bar until his jeans fit right again. Only pictures of those legs kept flashing in his mind, and the fly of his pants continued to protrude. He tried to focus his thoughts on something else—the lousy book he’d been reading, world affairs, the state of the national economy. Nothing worked. Finally, in desperation, he began thinking of his horses. Montana, the champion buckskin stud that had put his rear leg through a stall wall, had been limping slightly again. That was a worry weighty enough to dampen Parker’s physical urges.
He sighed with relief. It wasn’t like him to get turned on so easily by a woman, especially not a woman who might be married. During lunches, he’d studied Rainie’s left hand to see if he could detect a telltale depression on her ring finger where a band had once been. No such luck. In weak moments, he reminded himself that lots of people lived together without benefit of marriage nowadays. Maybe Rainie had only been living with the guy when the relationship turned ugly.
Yeah, right.
Somehow, she didn’t strike him as being the type to shack up with someone. He had her pegged as a forever kind of lady who would expect a ring, promises, and avowals of undying devotion before she hooked up with a man. That being the case, she’d more than likely been married to the creep and probably still was. Where did that leave Parker? It left him lusting after a married woman, that was where, and that didn’t sit well with him. He shouldn’t allow his feelings for her to deepen any more than they already had.
And wasn’t that a hell of a note? He was thirty-five years old and had spent most of his adult life searching for someone like her, and now that he’d found her, she was off-limits. His feet felt heavy as he retraced his steps along the hallway. He hesitated outside the door, his mood gloomy. It hardly seemed fair. Rainie
needed
someone. That was obvious. And, damn it, he wanted to be that someone. What was so wrong with that?
Making a fast U-turn, Parker went back to the tack room, tugged his cell phone from his belt, and dialed his father’s number. Frank answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey, Dad. Parker here. I got a question for you.”
The
clink-clink
of a spoon stirring coffee came over the line. “Shoot. If I don’t have the answer, I’ll ask Dee Dee. She knows everything.”
Parker heard his plump, redheaded stepmother protest with a good-natured laugh. He smiled slightly, glad that his father had found happiness in the autumn of his life with someone so wonderful, yet feeling sad for himself. It wasn’t often that a woman appealed to Parker like Rainie did. What if he passed on this opportunity and no one special ever came along again?
His throat went dry as he started to speak. “I’m fallin’ hard for a woman who might be married,” he blurted.
“Damn, son. That ain’t a question. It’s a bomb to be dropped on enemy lines.”
“Sorry. I had to come right out with it, or I wouldn’t have got it said.”
Frank cleared his throat. The clinking of the spoon resumed, only louder now, an indication of the older man’s agitation. “Can you pull hard on your Jake Brake, Parker? A married woman is bad news. You don’t want to be a home wrecker.”
“There’s no home to wreck.” Parker quickly related his suspicions about the relationship. “I think she’s on the run, Dad. Pritchard probably isn’t even her real last name.”
“You seen any evidence of physical abuse?”
Parker thought of the pink scar that ran along Rainie’s fragile cheekbone and related that information to his father. “So, yes. I’m pretty sure the bastard beat the ever-lovin’ hell out of her on a regular basis. She’s hand-shy and as skittish as a quirt-whipped filly.”
“Well, that puts a different spin on things,” Frank said. “That’s not a marriage. It’s an affront to the word. There’s nothin’ holy about a union like that.”
Those had been Parker’s thoughts as well, but it helped somehow to hear his father say them aloud.
“When a man pulls that kind of shit, he ain’t no kind of husband,” Frank continued. “I believe in the sanctity of marriage. You know that. But when Sammy finally told me what her ex had been doin’ to her behind closed doors, the first words out of my mouth were, ‘Divorce him.’ And I supported her every inch of the way. That marriage was an abomination. And I don’t believe for one second that God expected her to stay in it.”