came up in warning.
“Ugh. Mud.” Shaking her head, she peered up at him. “You really think I can’t put him on my list?”
Levi considered, giving the woman in front of him a thorough once-over.
“Levi!” she laughed in amused accusation, obviously noting where his eyes had lingered.
“Yeah, I’ve got no problem with Bruno’s actions.”
A single curl tumbled across her brow. She swept it aside with the back of her hand, leaving another dirty smudge behind. “You like the mud.”
The mud. The shorts. The smile. The cut and curves that made up the shape of her. Reaching out, he brushed the spot with his thumb before forcing himself to walk to her door. “Amongst other things. Take care, Elise.”
Back against the refrigerator, cordless phone at her ear, Elise strained under the weight of Bruno’s bulk. A kitchen chair lay on its side and a three-foot radius around the Pyrex bowl she’d filled was pooled with water. “What do you mean you aren’t picking him up?”
“He must have done it before we left to meet you at the park, but David says it looks like Bruno chewed up half of Dexter’s toys from the nursery. He’s worried it’s territorial. That it wouldn’t be safe—” Ally’s voice trembled between broken gasps “—for him to come home.”
One jealous baby chewing up another baby’s things. No, this wasn’t good.
As if sensing his mommy on the other end of the line, Bruno huffed at the air, his tail wagging hard enough to shake the both of them.
“Ally, okay, take a deep breath.”
Her sister made a shaky attempt on the other end of the line. “Elise, I know you’re more busy than ever, but all our friends have kids and there’s no way I can take him to Mom’s.”
“No, of course not.” They’d always been a dog family, but some overgrown animal thundering through the house and threatening the routine that had become so critical to maintaining the status quo was the last thing any of them needed. Her mom wouldn’t admit it, but the situation at home had been deteriorating for months. Just yesterday, Elise had noticed the lines and shadows around her mother’s eyes had become more prominent. She’d lost weight. But she wouldn’t even consider making any changes. There was no way Bruno could go there. “I can handle it, don’t worry.”
“David mentioned the shelter, but Bruno’s not trained. And he’s going to have the stigma of being given up. What if they can’t find anyone to take him? What if they have to put him—?”
“No. That’s not going to happen. Bruno’s a good dog.” Sort of. Mostly. “He’ll be fine. I’ll keep him for now and we’ll find him a nice home with the right people.”
Dexter’s hungry wail sounded in the background. Ally sniffed, and Elise heard the shifting of the phone against her sister’s shoulder followed by the soothing hush of a mother’s comfort to her child. Closing her eyes, she let the sound of it wrap around her heart like a tiny fist.
“You just take care of Dex and don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of Bruno. I promise.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Ally.”
Eighteen hours later Elise was nursing a new scrape down the side of her leg, a slamming headache, and a hard grudge against the Great Dane skidding across her oak floors. She’d spent the night making calls, seeing if anyone she knew was interested in a gently used, fixer-upper puppy beast who didn’t answer to her at all, but went by the name Bruno.
While she’d struck out so far, there were plenty of avenues left to investigate. She’d traded her morning classes to another instructor, but she’d mention him at her classes that afternoon.
Her anxious gaze landed on Bruno. She just had to get there.
Leaving Bruno in the apartment was unavoidable, so she’d deal with it. Tape some cardboard to the door before she went. Provide an arsenal of chewy toys in the hopes it meant he’d forgo the temptation of her couch leg. Whatever.
It was the walk before she left that overwhelmed her.
Staring out the front window at the swath of concrete and obstacle course of signposts, constant traffic, pedestrians, and hydrants, she winced.
David had come over the night before to drop off Bruno’s supplies and walk him. This morning she’d braved taking him out herself and barely made it back in one piece. She just hadn’t managed to assert her authority in a way that could compete with his brute strength.
She slumped into the couch, trying to ignore the thought that kept creeping into her mind. The obvious … intensely uncomfortable solution to her most immediate problem.
Bruno sat with his big Great Dane thighs sloppy, droolly jowls leaking all over as he stared up at her looking dumb and sweet. He was a big oaf who didn’t know any better and needed someone strong enough to show him how to behave.
There wasn’t another choice.
Levi shoved back from his desk, eyeing the phone in his hand with slow-rising satisfaction. Elise Porter.
He hadn’t even left her apartment before the sud-soaked shower fantasies had begun a relentless assault that, almost a full day later, had yet to cease. It had been a minor miracle he’d made it out of her building at all, and even more so that he’d managed the night without returning to talk her into another bad decision and work his way into her bed.
Just one thing had stopped him.
She’d tried to walk away. At the park and again outside her building.
The chemistry was there. Unmistakably. But she’d resisted it, because she knew—they both knew—he wasn’t the kind of guy who could give a woman like her what she needed.
So once he’d gotten her home safe … he’d done the right thing and left.
Only now, she’d called. Reopened a door he’d had one hell of a time forcing himself to close. Which meant all that noble, well-intentioned, do-the-right-thing garbage that had been the source of his sleepless night and his irritatingly, unproductive morning was done.
He eased deeper into his chair, pondering how she’d approach him. Maybe she’d ask for help washing some dirty spot she hadn’t been able to reach.
He wished. Connecting the line, he answered, “Levi here.”
“Umm, hello, Levi. This is Elise. Elise Porter … from last week at the bookstore … and after … and at the park yesterday … with Bruno …”
Again he was looking at the phone. Okay, so not the smooth approach he’d been anticipating—not that he should have been surprised. And from the sounds of it, she was still going on, trying to cast about more clues for him to nail down her identity.
How many women did she think he picked up during a week? “Elise, I know who you are.”
Her breath sounded in rush. “Okay, good. Thank you.”
