“Oh, my God, they’re enormous.” Catching a collar in each hand, she moved the dogs back enough to sit up again. She opened her arms and embraced them both. “That’s the most loving I’ve had in … forever.”
Interesting. Dare pulled Sargie away. “She’s seventy pounds. And this beast of a girl—” he retrieved Tai “—is a solid eighty-five. Tai is the older and calmer of the two, but that’s not saying much. They both think they’re Lapradors instead of Labradors. If you’re on their level, they’ll sit on you. Or at least try to.”
“Guess I’ll have to remember that—not that I minded, though. It’s nice to be so accepted.”
Because she wasn’t used to it? She’d said many of her readers could count as suspects, too. Family, readers, ex-fiancé … He needed to start making a damned list.
Holding out a hand to her, Dare hauled her to her feet and waited while she dusted off that lush backside.
Both dogs now sat on their haunches, still trembling with energy and excitement but curious about Molly, too.
She offered a hand for them to sniff and then took turns petting them. Tai gave her a soulful look, earning a hug. “I love animals. Dad wanted nothing to do with pets when I was growing up, and my apartment doesn’t allow them. I’d actually been thinking of getting my own house just so I could get a dog. Probably not one as big as yours, though.”
Dare couldn’t imagine not having pets around. They were part of the welcome he got whenever he had time away from work. “House or dog?”
Grinning, she said, “Both—but I was talking about the dogs.” She straightened, looked beyond them to his home and shook her head in wonder. “And here I’d thought to impress you with my success. What a joke.”
“I am impressed.”
“At least enough to let me hire you, knowing I can pay up. But we should probably discuss terms, don’t you think?”
“Soon.” He released the dogs to retrieve his duffel from the SUV, and then put a hand to the small of Molly’s back to get her moving forward. “That’s Chris on the porch. He’ll stand there and stare all night.”
Under her breath, Molly said, “He’s as big as you are.”
“I’m bigger,” Chris announced, “if you know where to look.”
“Knock it off, Chris.” But Dare was trying not to laugh.
Aghast, Molly whispered, “He heard me?”
“He hears everything,” Chris told her. “You might want to remember that.”
“Voices carry here,” Dare explained in a normal tone, “especially at night. It’s the lake that does that.”
“There’s a lake?”
He could show her that later. Right now he wanted to get her out of the chill night air, get them both settled and eat real food. There was a world of difference in March weather between Kentucky and California. He saw her shivering and wished that he’d thought to buy her a jacket.
“Let’s get you inside.”
The dogs ran up the steps ahead of them, but then ran back down—and up again.
Dare stopped before Chris. “Molly, meet Chris Chapey, my personal assistant. Chris, this is—”
“The complication. I know.” But Chris no sooner said that than he got a good look at Molly in the light. Arrested, he studied her face, saw the injuries, the marks of abuse. “Did Dare drag you here?”
“We’re tired, Chris. Can you save the sarcasm for later? After I’ve eaten, maybe?”
His gaze went over Molly, and his brows came down—proof that Chris abhorred abuse as much as Dare did.
“Not a problem.” Still with his attention on Molly, Chris said to Dare, “Just tell me that someone paid for this.”
“Oh, yeah.”
He nodded with satisfaction. “Glad to hear it.”
To break the awkward exchange, Molly cleared her throat. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Chapey.” She held out a hand. “Molly Alexander. Please call me Molly.” Her obvious eagerness to make his acquaintance stymied both men.
Dare watched in amazement as Chris gave in and took her hand. Of course, Molly wasn’t just any woman posing as an interloper; she was a woman badly victimized who still had a backbone of steel.
Who could be immune to that?
Molly enfolded Chris’s hand in both of hers. “I’m sorry that we’ve kept you from your bed. I promise that I’m going to try to stay out of your way. I don’t want to be a bother.”
Given the shape she was in, that took Chris aback. He glanced at Dare in confusion, then said, “Definitely complicated.”
Dare leaned against the outer entry wall. “Told you so.”
“I get up early,” Chris said in an uncharacteristic effort to explain himself. “Crack of dawn to run with the dogs. Otherwise—”
“I totally understand. And again, my apologies for messing up your routine.”
“Chris’s routine is whatever I say it is.”
Chris narrowed his eyes at him. “Does that mean you’ll be running the dogs tomorrow?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“Great. Then I’ll sleep in.”
“‘Fraid not.” Dare half grinned as he told Chris, “I have a long list of things for you to do.”
Molly ignored their exchange and, still holding Chris’s hand, said, “Mr. Chapey, you’re the one who set up the chartered flight, right?”
“It’s Chris, and yeah, I make all of Dare’s travel arrangements.”
“Thank you so much for that. I was dreading a commercial flight after … well, everything.”
In case she didn’t understand, Chris said, this time slowly, “It’s what Dare told me to do.”
“I understand that, but you did it so quickly and your choice was terrific. I really do appreciate it.”
She was killing Chris with kindness—and Dare loved it.
“Yeah, well, no problem.” He gave Dare a “help me” look.
Molly finally freed his hand. “Good grief, I’m keeping you out here talking when you have to be freezing.”
“I’m fine—but you have goose bumps.”
“It’s probably only fifty degrees here, and damp, too.” She rubbed her arms. “At least I’m
