girl a guy used to get back at his girlfriend.
Now fiancée.
Grr.
Sweetness crawled into her lap, and Cara scratched behind her ears. “Are you going to be my therapy dog, girl?” Sweetness licked her chin, and she couldn’t deny the fact that she might need it.
“KNOCK, KNOCK!”
Wes tensed. Okay, he’d already been tense. He’d carried that tension around all morning, knowing Cara was going to show up today and invade.
He’d tended to the animals, worked out, showered and eaten breakfast, knowing that she would be all up in his space not just today, but three days a week, every week, for as long as she wanted or as long as he could stand it.
Her references had been mostly glowing. Cara was good at customer service. She was organized and dependable as long as she wasn’t tasked with too stressful of a project.
Those were the things he needed, and he didn’t have stressful projects because he refused to let stress into his business. The fact she interacted so well with his dogs helped. That, and you’d like to see her naked.
He snorted at his own inner monologue. Not gonna happen, buddy.
So, two weeks and a few phone calls after she’d offered herself up for the job, here she was. His assistant.
Without a response from him, Cara appeared in his office with Sweetness on a leash. A sparkly purple leash. Definitely not the one he’d packed in the loaner kit.
Then he saw the scarf.
“What the hell is that?” he demanded, pointing at the offensive swath of fabric.
Cara blinked and looked down at Sweetness. The scarf bandana thing around Sweetness’s neck was also purple, with pink-and-green flowers on it.
“Isn’t it cute?”
“No. It’s ridiculous. She’s a dog.”
“She loves it. Don’t you, girl?” Cara crouched, scratching Sweetness behind the ears. And, yeah, Sweetness seemed to like that, but he wasn’t sold on the scarf thing.
She popped back up to her feet. She was wearing skintight jeans and some oversize purple sweater thing that had big holes in it, but she seemed to be wearing a black tank top under it, so the holes didn’t show off anything important.
Seriously, there had been moments in time when he thought this would be a good idea?
“Thanks for letting me keep her the extra week.”
“Look, you can keep her. Period.”
Cara wrinkled her nose. “You can’t just give me your dog.”
“You bought her sparkly shit, and she clearly likes you better than me. Besides, you can bring her with you on workdays. It’s not like I don’t have enough dogs to keep me company, and she’s only mine because someone knew I didn’t turn away strays.”
“Wes.”
He already didn’t like the way she said his name. It gave him feelings he’d rather not diagnose at the moment. It was one of the great things about the army. Everyone said Stone or his rank in the same harsh bark. No emotion to discern in that environment. Just do your job right and no one gave you a hard time for being poor or shy or anxious or helpful or nice, either.
They needed to get on that professional, detached playing field. He gave orders. She followed them. The end. “Are you ready to work?”
“Oh! I almost forgot.” She shoved some papers out of the way and put her bag down on the spot she’d cleared. Carefully, she pulled out a big plastic container.
“I made you a pie.” She unclipped the clasps on the lid. “It’s kind of my version of a personality test.”
“Pie as personality test?”
She nodded, her lips a brightly painted pink smile. She lifted the lid with a flourish. “I give you octo-pie.”
Wes stared at the bizarre-looking pie. It was indeed an octo-pie in that the top of the piecrust had been fashioned to look like an octopus. A big lump of pie dough made up the body, while strips made up the eight legs. It even had eyes and a mouth cut into the crust. The pie filling looked like cherry and made his mouth water.
It was ridiculous and hilarious. He actually found himself laughing. Which somehow only made Cara grin wider.
“You pass,” she said happily. “You do have a personality under all that gruff I’m-so-tough beardy flannel.”
Any humor faded. He didn’t particularly want her to see him having a personality. This would be so much easier if he could be the silent soldier and she could...go about her business organizing him. His papers. Not him. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would.” Sweetness hopped up on the desk chair and began sniffing around the pie, so Cara put the lid back on. “Are you sure about me keeping her?”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“You have no idea how much I like that about you.” She said it kind of under her breath, but he caught it and was all too pleased by it.
“So, where do we start?” she asked, all sunny good cheer while Sweetness panted happily up at her despite her taking away the pie.
Yeah, the damn dog definitely belonged with Cara.
“Wherever you want. I have work to do in the kitchen. Find a way to organize all this in a way that works for you and that you can explain to a mess like me, answer the phones, and we’re set.”
Cara looked wide-eyed around the room. “That’s it?”
“You have carte blanche. And I have carte blanche to tell you it sucks.”
Instead of frowning or arguing like he would have expected, she grinned. “This might be the best job I ever had.”
“I wouldn’t say that yet,” he grumbled. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you have any questions.” And he would stay in the kitchen, because being around her was bad news. Being pleased by anything she said was a terrible recipe for a replay of his teenage life, and nope, he wasn’t going to do that again.
He left her in his office, Sweetness not even looking his way. Which was fine. At least Phantom...
He glanced back to where the dog hovered in between the doorway of the office and the hallway to the kitchen. “Another traitor,” Wes muttered, trying not to feel too bent out of shape about it.
If he were a dog, he’d be panting in Cara’s lap, too.
Irritated with himself for, well, everything, he took a deep breath and went about setting up for work. He had things to do. Things that did not involve his new assistant.
