circle of friends, the duty fell on him. And despite his lack of familiarity with furry creatures, he and Butch got along well enough.
So what had upset Butch enough to cause that mournful sound?
Concerned, Buck dried his face and dropped his towel. Because he slept in the nude, he’d had to pull on underwear when Butch had first awoken him. In the dark, he’d chosen monkey-print boxers given to him as a joke by Ethan’s wife, Rosie. He hadn’t bothered to put anything more on yet, so he cautiously poked his head around the corner to see what had Butch riled.
The dog sat at the French doors at the back of Buck’s apartment, staring out at the shadowy yard.
“Hey, bud, what’s the deal?”
Butch cast him a quick worried look, then went back to staring. Buck strode forward, leaned close for his own peek and narrowed his eyes to see through the hazy morning shadows. A trim figure moved across the high grass.
Sadie Harte.
Figured it had to be a woman who’d get the dog baying like a crazed wolf. Occasionally Sadie had the same effect on Buck. He didn’t understand her. She was unlike other women he knew. And she made him nuts.
Sadie was the most buttoned-down, prudish, spinsterish twenty-something woman he had ever seen. To call her plain would be an understatement. But did that stop Buck from being nice to her? No. He even teased her a little, tried flirting some. He was friendly, cordial.
It got him nowhere.
In fact, despite her cold politeness, he thought she actually disliked him. In the three months that she’d been his neighbor, not once had she invited him to her apartment. And when he’d invited her to join a small get-together with his close friends, she’d refused. She’d chat with him in the yard, or give a passing greeting, but anything remotely indicative of a relationship seemed to scare her off, even one as casual as friendship.
The only time she’d been to his apartment was to ask him not to make so much noise.
It nettled him that he couldn’t get her to warm up to him. Women liked him, damn it. He wasn’t an ogre, he had his own business, his mother had taught him manners and he loved to laugh. Not bad qualities, right?
So, why did Sadie keep him at arm’s length?
Curiosity was getting to him. Not once had he ever seen her with a boyfriend. She never had company, either. No one. Not family, not friends.
But she did take in rescue animals. Pitiful creatures with their tails between their legs, their ears down. They’d cower whenever anyone got near. Sadie was patience personified, tender and careful and caring. Too many times, Buck had stood at his door and watched her with a dog or two in the small backyard. He’d open his window so he could hear her soft voice as she cajoled an animal into trusting her.
Broke his heart, it really did. The worst part of it all was that Sadie didn’t keep the pets. She helped them, and then found them good homes where they could have the love of a family, a big fenced yard, maybe kids to play with.
Today, however, wasn’t the same. Normally when he saw Sadie, she had on her schoolteacher duds, as Buck liked to think of them. Even while working with the animals in the yard, she wore long shapeless skirts, flat shoes, loose blouses better suited to a maiden aunt than a young woman. Far as Buck knew, she didn’t own a pair of jeans. Or shorts. Or, God forbid, a bathing suit.
She always looked prim and standoffish—and it drove him crazy wondering what she’d look like in something more revealing…. That was the way with men. They always wanted what they couldn’t have. He wanted a peek at proper Ms. Sadie Harte.
Today was his day to have his wish come true.
Mesmerized, intrigued and a little amused, Buck leaned against the wall and took in the sight before him. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, Sadie was in the yard, running from his lot to her own and back again.
In a thin nightgown.
Now he knew what she slept in. It wasn’t the nudity he’d imagined many times over, but the long white gown made of thin cotton would do for future fantasies. The gown was innocent, romantic and hinted at the body beneath.
As Sadie dashed past, his gaze tracked her from the top of her head to her dew-wet feet and back up again. Sleepiness got replaced with sharpened awareness. If Sadie dressed like that more often, her social calendar would be full.
Had she just woken, too? Maybe had a nightmare? They’d talked enough for him to know that Sadie was the sensible sort, not a woman prone to theatrics. Given her wardrobe, she was really modest, too. But this morning she hadn’t even donned a housecoat.
At that precise moment, early morning sunbeams burst through the clouds, making Sadie’s gown slightly transparent. Breath caught, Buck took in the sight of the few subtle shadows that hinted at female curves.
The new view was damn interesting. He made note of her narrow waist, her small, high breasts and long thighs. The image of her curled in bed, half-asleep, soft and warm, crowded into his brain.
Butch howled again and scratched at the door, forcing Buck back into the moment.
“Sorry, buddy. I don’t want you running after her. No reason for you both to look wacko.”
Sadie’s light brown, baby-fine hair danced around her head as she whipped this way and that in a crazed fashion. He’d always wanted to see her with her hair down. Because she usually had it twisted up, Buck hadn’t known it was bone straight, shoulder-length, or that it had glints of red and gold when the sunlight hit it just right. Now that he did know, he wondered why she always kept it up. It looked real pretty around her shoulders.
Suddenly her small bare feet slid in the tall, dewy grass, almost landing her on her tush. Her arms did cartwheels in the air. She looked panicked before catching her balance and taking off again.
Damn it.
Buck slid the door open a little so she could hear him, but not wide enough for Butch to get out. “Sadie,” he called, hoping to gain her attention without startling her. “Is something wrong?”
Her head jerked in his direction, her chocolate-brown gaze locked on his, and to Buck’s surprise, she came barreling toward him. Except for her nose, which had turned pink with the morning chill, her face was pale.
“What the—?” Buck braced himself for the unexpected attack.
Screaming, Sadie jerked the door right out of his hand and nearly knocked him over in her haste to get inside. Her wet feet shot out from under her again when she stepped on his tile floor. Buck caught her under the arms before she hit the ground, aware of her slight weight and fragile bones. She was such a delicate woman—
Sadie paid him no mind. Immediately she slammed the door shut again, using enough force to rattle the panes of glass. Panting, nose glued to the glass, she watched the yard as if expecting something momentous.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Buck leaned against the wall and stared down at Sadie. At six-three, he stood taller than a lot of people. He was used to looking down. But Sadie was more petite than most, damn near a foot shorter than him.
And she was in her nightgown. With pretty, sleep-rumpled hair. And small
