“I’m okay,” she assured herself.
She would soon have bars installed over her bedroom windows and a reinforced bedroom door. Her landlord might have a fit, but she would placate him with promises that she’d remove all the ironwork, putty the holes, and repaint when she moved. Now that she was making sixty grand a year, she could actually afford to paint, after all. If the old man complained too loudly, she could even upgrade to a better neighborhood. No matter what, she would have the bars. It had been so long since she’d slept soundly that she sometimes wondered if the dark shadows under her eyes were permanent.
Sleep.
Even during her marriage, she hadn’t been able to rest well. She’d never known when Peter’s biting fingers might curl over her shoulder.
Rainie’s eyes filled with tears when she remembered those times. She brushed angrily at her cheeks. Parker would understand. He’d talk about survival instinct and how everyone made mistakes. She had an overabundance of survival instinct. She’d learned that the hard way, with Peter as her teacher.
Parker was putting the welding equipment into the back of his truck when Rainie pulled her Mazda into the ranch parking area. Looking too handsome to be legal in a fresh pair of Wrangler jeans and a blue chambray work shirt, he turned to wave at her. She waved back, then knotted her hand into a fist on her lap. Was she out of her mind to be going to lunch with him? No matter what he said, she
wasn’t
safe with him. No woman was.
“Mornin’!” he called as he strode toward her car in that loose-hipped, lazy way of his. He gave the impression that nothing short of a bomb going off could make him move quickly, and yet she’d seen his lightning-fast reaction time while working with his horses. His unhurried, relaxed manner was deceiving. “Gorgeous day, isn’t it?”
It truly was a gorgeous day, and his smile—a devastating tilt of firm lips that displayed incredibly white teeth—made the sun seem to shine even brighter. He drew off his brown Stetson to blot beads of perspiration from his brow with a rolled-back sleeve. His wavy hair glistened like polished jet in the morning light.
“Gettin’ warm already.”
Determined not to panic at the burn of feelings he kindled within her, Rainie got out of the car and reached back in for her purse. “How’d it go with Mojo last night?”
“We got off to a rough start. I made him a bed in the laundry room, and he didn’t care for the accommodations.”
“Uh-oh. Did he cry?”
“Did he
cry
? The caterwaulin’ carried to every room of my house, so loud I couldn’t even think about sleepin’.” His smile widened. “I got out the book I bought on puppies. It said he’d calm down if I wrapped a tickin’ clock up in a towel and put it in bed with him. It took me almost an hour to find one.”
“Practically everything’s digital nowadays.”
“Exactly. Fortunately I have a little windup I take on trips. In the book, they claim the tickin’ sound mimics the mother dog’s heartbeat and soothes the puppy.”
“Did it work?”
“Hell, no.”
Rainie couldn’t smother a laugh. “What did you do?”
“Well, at first, I lectured him about knowin’ his place and not gettin’ any highfalutin ideas about sleepin’ with me.
That
wasn’t gonna happen. I don’t mind him bein’ an inside dog, but a man’s got to draw the line somewhere. Right?”
“Right. So where did you draw yours?”
“Right down the middle.”
“Right down the middle of what?”
He gave her a slow, conspiratorial wink. “Of my king-size bed.”
She laughed again. Parker had that effect on her. That was one of the reasons he made her so nervous: because she found him so disarming.
“Only he doesn’t understand boundary lines,” he continued. “I fell asleep with him suckin’ on my armpit hair.”
That did it. Rainie collapsed against the fender of her car, so overcome by laughter that her knees would barely hold her up. He watched her with a bemused grin.
“You think that’s funny, do you?”
She nodded as she wiped tears of mirth from her cheeks. He sighed and plopped the hat back on his dark head. “Yeah, well, I have to admit I found it a little humorous myself. I got a dog that’ll grow up to be more stubborn than I am. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d sleep with a critter that’s got a perpetual leak. Got up this mornin’ and had to change my sheets.”
“He’ll get over missing his mother soon,” she assured him.
“Maybe. But what if he switches his devotion to me and wants to sleep with me when he weighs a hundred and fifty pounds?”
“At least you’ve got a roomy bed.”
His lips twitched. “You’re a huge help.”
Rainie spent the morning trying to work. Unfortunately Mojo wanted to play, and he refused to take no for an answer. The wading pool was absolutely worthless as a holding pen and took up so much of the walking room that she finally wrestled it out to the hallway and left it leaning against the wall. Then she covered the floor with newspaper, which Mojo thought was immense fun. She would just get the sheets neatly arranged when he would attack them. By the time Parker showed up for their trip to town, the office looked as if the ceiling had rained confetti.
“Dear God. Is this my
office
? Maybe I should buy him a cage.”
“You can’t leave an active baby in a cage all day.”
He conceded the point with a pensive nod. “It doesn’t look like you got much work done.”
“That depends on how you define work. I’ve kept busy, just not doing anything productive. I need to log some entries from yesterday. Maybe we can start watching him in shifts.”
Parker leaned down to scoop up the puppy. Mojo immediately attacked his shirt collar. “I found a deep box and put a saddle blanket in there for him. You reckon we should take along some food and water, too?”
“I reckon,” she echoed, trying to suppress a grin.
While Rainie went to the coffee room to mix Mojo some meals, which she stored in empty baby-food jars, Parker collected the puppy’s dishes and filled a sports bottle with water.
“This is as bad as havin’ a baby,” he complained. “All we’re lackin’ is diapers.”
“He’ll grow up soon and it won’t be so much trouble to take him places.”
He put everything into a plastic shopping bag, collected the puppy, and said, “Well, I think we’re all set.”
Rainie thought that might be an overly optimistic statement, and she was right. Mojo immediately began yelping when Parker put him inside the box. They drove only about half a mile before Parker pulled over to the side of the road. “Would you mind holdin’ him?”
Rainie held out her arms. Mojo whimpered and cuddled close in her embrace. “He’s so relieved. I think the box scared him.”
Parker pulled back out into the lane. “He’s gonna get another fright, then. They won’t allow him in the restaurant. It’s against health regulations. I can’t leave him loose in the truck. He’ll poop and pee everywhere.”
“We could just do fast food.”
“No way. You’re fixed up too pretty. I promised you a real lunch, and you’re gettin’ a real lunch.”
Rainie would have been just as happy with a hamburger. It bothered her to think that Mojo would cry the entire time they were gone. When they got to the restaurant, a little hole-in-the-wall place on Main, she cast a gloomy glance at the window, where the name ROMANO’S was painted on the glass in red shadow block. Parker plucked the puppy from her arms and gently returned him to the box on the backseat. Mojo instantly started to yelp and whimper. The sound tore at her heart.
Parker gave her a long look. “I could order takeout and we could eat out here.”
A smile swelled in Rainie’s chest. No wonder Parker Harrigan was so hard for her to resist. “That’d be fun. Or we could go to the park.”
“Mojo can’t go to places like parks until he’s fully immunized. Tucker says he could catch parvo or distemper.”
“Is the pet store safe? Other dogs go in there, too.”
“Tucker says that’s safe because they disinfect the floors every night.” He nudged his hat back to grin at her. “Let me go in and order. Rosa will fix us right up. She’s a sweetheart.”
Expecting Parker to be gone for quite a while, Rainie took Mojo out of the box and held him in her arms. To her surprise, though, Parker returned in only seconds to tap on the glass. She lowered the window. “They don’t do takeout?”
“They do, but they want us to bring him in. Rosa invited us to eat in back at their kitchen table. She says the health regulations don’t extend to their private living area and the inspector won’t care.”
“But Mojo may make a mess on her floor.”
“She’s got newspapers.” He grinned and shrugged. “Like I said, she’s a sweetheart.”
Rosa Romano was a short, plump Italian woman who wore her graying black hair in a coiled braid at the crown of her head. A flour-streaked red apron protected her clothing, a grandmotherly ensemble of polyester stretch pants and a diagonal-print blouse. The moment Rainie stepped inside the restaurant, Rosa began talking and gesturing, her friendliness and warmth so contagious that Rainie instantly relaxed.
“So this is Mojo!” the woman cried, taking the puppy from Rainie’s arms. “Papa, you gotta come see. He’s a little pistol!”
Mr. Romano was as thin as Rosa was plump and only marginally taller. His shiny bald pate, rimmed by a band of short gray hair clipped high over his ears, shone like a polished globe in the fluorescent light as he crossed the empty dining area. A broad grin creased his wrinkled visage when he saw the puppy. “Oho, he’ll grow to be a monster, Parker. Just look at those paws. It is good you come early!” He motioned for them to follow him into the back rooms. “Rosa and I have no customers yet. It doesn’t get busy until twelve thirty. Then we barely get a break until closing.”
They passed through a commercial kitchen area that was so aromatic Rainie’s mouth started to water. Homemade bread, marinara sauce, oregano and basil—the air smelled good enough to eat. The apartment in back was small and cluttered but spotless. Rosa seated them at a small oak table with a centerpiece bowl of colorful dried peppers and gourds.
“Finally,” she said to her husband, who was filling water glasses, “our Parker has found himself a nice girl! No goop on her face, no claws for fingernails.” She beamed at Rainie. “It is good to know he has some good sense somewhere under that hat he has glued on his head.”
Parker waggled his eyebrows lecherously at Rainie, then removed the Stetson and hooked it over the back of a chair beside him. “Sorry, Rosa, I was raised in a barn. Well, a stable, actually, but the point is the same. I forget my manners.”
The older woman laughed and rumpled his black hair. “You are like my Michael when he comes home. No worries about manners in his mama’s kitchen. It is where he can forget being a fancy businessman.”
“What kind of business is he in?” Rainie asked.
“Our Michael is a bank president,” Rosa said proudly. Rubbing her fingertips together, she laughed and added, “He makes big money.”
With an expertise born of long practice, Rosa put place mats in front of them and quickly arranged their place settings, complete with artfully folded bright red napkins. Then she handed them each a menu. Rainie felt strange sitting in someone’s kitchen to order a meal. But at least Mojo was happy. Mr. Romano tossed down newspapers on the kitchen floor, which the puppy promptly attacked and started to shake. The couple laughed in delight at the puppy’s ferocious growls.
Parker highly recommended that Rainie try the spaghetti and meatballs or the lasagna. In the end, she ordered one, and he ordered the other. Rosa gave them each an extra plate so they could share. Then she and her husband, who Rainie learned was called Pete, joined them at the table to grab some lunch themselves. At their insistence, Rainie was soon forking up ravioli from their bowls to taste the different fillings. Pete’s were made with a variety of fine cheeses, Rosa’s with chicken and beef. It was impossible for Rainie to remain tense with such warm, relaxed people. She was soon laughing and talking with them as if she’d known them all her life.
“Yum, this food is indescribable,” she said in all sincerity. She glanced over to see Parker break off a large chunk of crusty, piping-hot Italian bread. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said. “I’m doin’ my own belly a favor—to heck with yours.”
Rainie so enjoyed the meal that she hated to see it end, but all too soon the food was gone, and the Romanos were drawn from the table by the customer bell chiming out front.
“Just leave the dishes,” Rosa said with a wave of her plump hand. “They must be washed in the commercial machine.”
“You haven’t billed me,” Parker protested.
Rosa flapped her hand again as she vanished from the room. “You are like family. Do you think I bill our Michael when he comes home for lunch?”
After Rosa departed, Parker looked at Rainie. “Can you remember how much the lasagna was? I can’t eat their food and not pay for it.”
Rainie agreed and fished through her purse for a pen and paper to add up their bill. Then she insisted on paying for her half. Parker rolled his eyes but finally accepted her money. “You’re a stubborn woman, Rainie Pritchard.”