more brittle with every frigid breath he’d drawn since this morning.
A knock at the door brought him back to the present. Max lifted his big shaggy head and looked at the door. A couple of sniffs of the air and the search dog’s big tail began beating the carpet.
No calls had come through on the radio, so it wasn’t an emergency. He’d like to ignore it. Go to sleep. God, he was tired...
Anson peeled himself from the sofa and made his way to the door. Max beat him there.
“I see how it is.” He ruffled Max’s ears and pushed him back so the door could swing open.
Ellory stood behind a stack of sprout trays, arms straining to carry them. Her warm brown eyes met his over the spring-green shoots, and she smiled. He couldn’t see her smile, but he saw the apples of her cheeks bunch and merriment in her eyes.
She kicked the duffel bag he recognized, and the stuffed thing flopped through his doorway to land on his feet. Heavy. Big. It took up as much room as at least two of his suits. Max sniffed the hell out of it.
“I need to bunk with you,” she said, the strain from carrying the trays down several flights of stairs and long corridors showing in her voice.
Anson grabbed the bag and hurled it further into the room, then grabbed the edges of the bottom tray to relieve her of her portable garden.
“No. Your shoulder is hurt. Just move.” She refused to let go, but since the way had been cleared she stepped forward to come in.
“No,” he repeated back to her, and lifted, forcing her to let go. Once they were in the room, he placed the trays on the counter. Which was when he noticed two other bags swinging from her shoulder. She didn’t travel light...
She closed the door and dropped her bags.
“Let me guess,” he said, looking at the sprouts. “You’re here because you changed your mind about that belly dance.”
“Nope.” Ellory looked the tiniest bit guilty then. “I can’t bring myself to have a wasteful fire all to myself. And no one else would understand if I brought the sprouts and crashed in their pad. They’ll be ruined if I leave them in my unheated room. I don’t really know anyone else well enough to include them in...this. And...well, you kissed me. You like me. I like you.” Max barked at her. She hadn’t paid him any attention yet, and he wasn’t having it.
“And I like you too, Maxie.” She caught his front paws in the chest and roughed up his ears with the kind of affection usually reserved for someone’s own pet. “I’m sorry I left you out. Go and tell Anson you want me to sleep over! Go tell him!” She pointed at Anson and Max dutifully ran to him, tail wagging hard enough to clear a table, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Happy panting.
“What about your resolution?”
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Anson. I’m not even asking you to curl my toes and make me forget that my enviro-OCD is out of control again, or whatever else is wrong with me that made me think coming home would fix it.” Edging around the sofa, she dropped her other bags on the floor and took a seat there in front of the fire. “I just want to share space. And maybe I’d like to spend some time around a wild man who puts his fist through walls...and his dog.”
As soon as she said the word “dog” Max came and flopped down on her, then rolled so he was on his back and his head propped on her thigh, all but demanding belly rubs. Anson briefly considered doing the same thing to her other thigh, but having it known that his dog had better moves than he did was just too much for his ego to handle today.
“Max clearly wants you to stay.” Anson wanted her to stay too, he just wasn’t into admitting that right now.
*
“We should move the bed over by the fire.” Ellory didn’t sit yet, but Anson did.
“It’s not that cold in here. For people dressed better. You should put on your suit.”
During the hour since Anson had kissed her lips and made her feel like she was drowning in
A knock at the door brought him back to the present. Max lifted his big shaggy head and looked at the door. A couple of sniffs of the air and the search dog’s big tail began beating the carpet.
No calls had come through on the radio, so it wasn’t an emergency. He’d like to ignore it. Go to sleep. God, he was tired...
Anson peeled himself from the sofa and made his way to the door. Max beat him there.
“I see how it is.” He ruffled Max’s ears and pushed him back so the door could swing open.
Ellory stood behind a stack of sprout trays, arms straining to carry them. Her warm brown eyes met his over the spring-green shoots, and she smiled. He couldn’t see her smile, but he saw the apples of her cheeks bunch and merriment in her eyes.
She kicked the duffel bag he recognized, and the stuffed thing flopped through his doorway to land on his feet. Heavy. Big. It took up as much room as at least two of his suits. Max sniffed the hell out of it.
“I need to bunk with you,” she said, the strain from carrying the trays down several flights of stairs and long corridors showing in her voice.
Anson grabbed the bag and hurled it further into the room, then grabbed the edges of the bottom tray to relieve her of her portable garden.
“No. Your shoulder is hurt. Just move.” She refused to let go, but since the way had been cleared she stepped forward to come in.
“No,” he repeated back to her, and lifted, forcing her to let go. Once they were in the room, he placed the trays on the counter. Which was when he noticed two other bags swinging from her shoulder. She didn’t travel light...
She closed the door and dropped her bags.
“Let me guess,” he said, looking at the sprouts. “You’re here because you changed your mind about that belly dance.”
“Nope.” Ellory looked the tiniest bit guilty then. “I can’t bring myself to have a wasteful fire all to myself. And no one else would understand if I brought the sprouts and crashed in their pad. They’ll be ruined if I leave them in my unheated room. I don’t really know anyone else well enough to include them in...this. And...well, you kissed me. You like me. I like you.” Max barked at her. She hadn’t paid him any attention yet, and he wasn’t having it.
“And I like you too, Maxie.” She caught his front paws in the chest and roughed up his ears with the kind of affection usually reserved for someone’s own pet. “I’m sorry I left you out. Go and tell Anson you want me to sleep over! Go tell him!” She pointed at Anson and Max dutifully ran to him, tail wagging hard enough to clear a table, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Happy panting.
“What about your resolution?”
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Anson. I’m not even asking you to curl my toes and make me forget that my enviro-OCD is out of control again, or whatever else is wrong with me that made me think coming home would fix it.” Edging around the sofa, she dropped her other bags on the floor and took a seat there in front of the fire. “I just want to share space. And maybe I’d like to spend some time around a wild man who puts his fist through walls...and his dog.”
As soon as she said the word “dog” Max came and flopped down on her, then rolled so he was on his back and his head propped on her thigh, all but demanding belly rubs. Anson briefly considered doing the same thing to her other thigh, but having it known that his dog had better moves than he did was just too much for his ego to handle today.
“Max clearly wants you to stay.” Anson wanted her to stay too, he just wasn’t into admitting that right now.
*
“We should move the bed over by the fire.” Ellory didn’t sit yet, but Anson did.
“It’s not that cold in here. For people dressed better. You should put on your suit.”
During the hour since Anson had kissed her lips and made her feel like she was drowning in
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