without using it and put it away. Then she slid the bathroom drawer shut and headed to her bedroom for her purse and a light sweater—just in case. The New England weather was always a bit unpredictable in April, although the past few days had been remarkably pleasant.
When she returned to the living room, Mike was standing by the door, ready to go.
He held Wags in the crook of his arm and opened the door for her with his free hand. Then he waited on the sidewalk while she made sure Woofer had fresh water and locked up the house.
“Where do you suggest we go to find dog supplies?” he asked.
“There’s a pet store on Lexington, across from Prudy’s Menu. It’s called Tails a Waggin’, and they’ll have everything we’ll need.”
“All right. I know where that is.” He opened the passenger door of his Jeep Wrangler, and after she climbed into the seat, he handed Wags to her. “He hates that box if he’s awake. Why don’t you hold him.”
Simone took the squirming pup. She had to admit, it was a cute little thing. But she needed another dog around the house like she needed a hole in the head, and she couldn’t help wondering what she’d gotten herself into.
Wasn’t her life going to be complicated enough for the next seven or eight months?
“Thanks for coming with me,” he said. “I don’t want to forget anything.”
“No problem,” she said, although she wasn’t being entirely truthful.
She really wasn’t in the mood to go anywhere. Not when she had a stack of laundry to do at home. She’d also planned to clean out the refrigerator and wash the windows, chores she saved for her day off. And she’d told Woofer she would take him for a long walk this afternoon.
Not that the dog would hold her to it, she supposed. But some things easily became habits that were hard to break.
And speaking of habits, she couldn’t even imagine the effect a new puppy was going to have on her normal routine.
Of course, a baby would really shake things up.
Thank goodness she knew better than to open herself up to that.
Mike backed his Jeep out of Simone’s driveway and drove through Riverdale, an older part of town, where the houses near the river had been built in the 1940s. With only a few exceptions, the yards and structures had been kept up throughout the years.
“I’ve always liked this neighborhood,” he said, thinking it had a Norman Rockwell appeal.
“Me, too.” Simone glanced out the window, as though appreciating the maples, sycamores and the occasional hemlock that shaded the sidewalks and the street on which she lived.
When Mike and his brothers were in high school, they’d worked summers for their uncle, who was a building contractor. As a result, each of the boys could do just about anything—electrical, plumbing, drywall, painting—skills that could turn an old house into something special.
A lot of people might prefer to buy newer homes, but Mike was drawn to the quaint, nostalgic ambience of this particular neighborhood. In fact, he’d told his Realtor that he was looking for a fixer-upper but wouldn’t mind purchasing anything in Riverdale, should one of the properties become available.
“Did you have to do a lot of work after you moved in?” he asked, thinking about the cozy, two-bedroom brick structure she’d purchased.
“Yes, but it was actually fun to roll up my sleeves and watch things change before my eyes. I even took some of those home-improvement classes they offer at Hadley’s Hardware Store. I couldn’t afford to do everything at once, but I started by working on one room at a time. The first thing I did was to tear up the carpeting and refinish the original hardwood flooring. Then I painted.”
Overall, he had to say he liked what she’d done to the place, although his focus had been on more than beige walls and white crown molding the night he’d taken her home.
In fact, as they’d left the cocktail party, he’d stolen a kiss while the two of them stood next to his Jeep, and his hormones hadn’t given him or his brain cells a free moment until dawn.
He’d known their lovemaking would be good, but it had been better than either of them could have imagined, and they’d awakened like a pair of spoons, completely spent and sated.
Yet one night hadn’t been enough.
He slid a sidelong glance across the seat and saw that she was staring straight ahead and biting her bottom lip. Then she glanced at him, lips parting.
Had her thoughts gone in a sexual direction, too? Was she thinking about the pleasure they’d given each other in the antique bed in her candlelit room?
He suspected so, because her words seemed to have dissipated in the cab of the Jeep.
But he didn’t let the silence get to him. “I told Karen, Leif’s sister, that I’d be interested in buying something in this part of town, especially if it needed some work.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. Mark Griffith, who lives with his wife and son on Ash, might have to be transferred to another office out of state. If so, he might be interested in selling.”
“That would work out great for me.” Since Simone didn’t comment either way about the possibility of them being neighbors, he let it drop.
Minutes later, he pulled the Jeep into a parking spot on Lexington, two spaces down from the pet shop, and turned off the ignition.
“How’d you know about this place?” he asked.
“Originally, Ella Wilder mentioned it to me.”
“She has animals?”
“Yes, a cat named Molly. She found the poor little thing injured and lying on the side of the road. A lot of people might have put her to sleep since she lost a leg, but Ella nursed her back to health.”
Mike never figured the young orthopedic surgeon as an animal lover, but then again, he hadn’t suspected Simone to be one, either. Not until he’d seen her with Woofer.
“One day, after shopping, I stopped at Prudy’s Menu to place a take-home order, and I noticed it across the street. Ella had said it was a mom-and-pop–type store and that it could almost be entertaining at times. So I decided to check it out. And that’s the day I met Woofer.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding. I thought pet stores only sold animals with pedigrees.”
“Actually, the Baxters allow several different pet-rescue organizations to hold adoption days at the store on weekends. And that’s exactly what was going on the first time I stopped in to visit.”
“Wait a minute.” Mike slid her a crooked grin. “You mean that you make a point of visiting the pet store even when you don’t have anything to buy?”
“Yes, I do that every once in a while. Millie and Fred Baxter are nice people. I first met them a year or so ago when Fred was brought into the E.R. after suffering chest pains.”
