doggy,” she called tentatively. The poor skittish creature stared at her for a long moment then took a cautious step toward her. “Come on,” Phil said softly and opened the back door.
“What are you doing? You can’t put him in my car.”
As if to prove her wrong, the skinny hound climbed into the back and sat up on the seat, looking at them expectedly.
“He wants to go with us,” Phil said. “I’ll just take him home and give him a good meal. Tomorrow, I’ll take him to the humane society.” She jumped in the car and fastened her seatbelt then glanced at her sister. “Let’s go, before Lenny comes after us.”
Sighing, Charlie put the car in gear, turned on the headlights and headed back to town.
“You’re crazy, you know,” she said. “You’re getting more dotty every day just like Aunt Agatha.” They argued all the way back to Phil’s house.
Beck was waiting on the porch steps. He got to his feet as Charlie pulled the car to a halt.
“Uh-oh, I think I’ll just go on home,” she said. “You can explain everything to him.”
“Coward,” Phil hissed, but she was glad to see Beck had cared enough to wait for her. She coaxed the hound out of the car and stood watching Charlie back up and drive away. As a sister, she wasn’t half-bad, she acknowledged.
“I was beginning to worry about you,” Beck said, putting his arms around her. “Are you okay?”
She leaned against him, taking in his scent and heat. He felt like a strong oak towering over her. In truth, she was a little shaky from their close call.
“I’m fine,” she said to him and raised her lips to his. After a long kiss, Beck looked at the dog who stood hunched as if waiting for a kick or something.
“Come inside. I have a lot to tell you,” Phil said and snapped her fingers at the dog who meekly followed.
“Where did you get your new friend?” Beck asked as Phil went directly to the refrigerator and pulled out a frozen steak.
“I had to bring him home,” she said, putting the steak in the microwave to thaw. “He’s half-starved. You can count his ribs.”
“I noticed that,” Beck acknowledged. Patiently, he waited to ask any more question as she gave the poor dog the whole steak and made coffee.
They settled at the table across from each other. Beck reached for her hand and held it between both of his in a protective gesture as she told him everything that had transpired from their trip to J&B’s pub to tracking Lenny to his trailer. When she was finished, he looked at her not saying a word, his lips compressed, his blue eyes sharp with unexpressed anger.
“Say something,” she said when he remained silent.
“Why are you doing this?” he demanded.
“I want to prove you didn’t kill your wife.”
“Why? Aren’t you sure enough yourself?”
“Don’t you dare say that to me,” she flared. She’d had a rough night so far and she didn’t need to deal with masculine pride when her intentions had been the best.
“I believe in you,” she said. “Now you have to believe that my motivations are out of lo—out of caring for you. I want you to get your coaching job back and have custody of your daughter. I don’t want people to whisper behind your back. What’s happened to you isn’t fair. I want to help.”
She stopped her rush of words. His grip on her hands had tightened. Now he raised his gaze from their entwined fingers to meet hers.
“Because you care for me,” he stated with a cryptic smile.
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
“Do you know what I want to do right now?” he asked huskily.
“Tell me,” she urged, although she was pretty sure she knew what he had in mind.
“I want to take you upstairs and make love to you again and then I want to hold you all night long.”
“That’s what I want, too,” she whispered and glanced at the hound who was blissfully gnawing on the steak bone. His belly was rounded and full, a sharp contrast to the skin and bones that made up
“What are you doing? You can’t put him in my car.”
As if to prove her wrong, the skinny hound climbed into the back and sat up on the seat, looking at them expectedly.
“He wants to go with us,” Phil said. “I’ll just take him home and give him a good meal. Tomorrow, I’ll take him to the humane society.” She jumped in the car and fastened her seatbelt then glanced at her sister. “Let’s go, before Lenny comes after us.”
Sighing, Charlie put the car in gear, turned on the headlights and headed back to town.
“You’re crazy, you know,” she said. “You’re getting more dotty every day just like Aunt Agatha.” They argued all the way back to Phil’s house.
Beck was waiting on the porch steps. He got to his feet as Charlie pulled the car to a halt.
“Uh-oh, I think I’ll just go on home,” she said. “You can explain everything to him.”
“Coward,” Phil hissed, but she was glad to see Beck had cared enough to wait for her. She coaxed the hound out of the car and stood watching Charlie back up and drive away. As a sister, she wasn’t half-bad, she acknowledged.
“I was beginning to worry about you,” Beck said, putting his arms around her. “Are you okay?”
She leaned against him, taking in his scent and heat. He felt like a strong oak towering over her. In truth, she was a little shaky from their close call.
“I’m fine,” she said to him and raised her lips to his. After a long kiss, Beck looked at the dog who stood hunched as if waiting for a kick or something.
“Come inside. I have a lot to tell you,” Phil said and snapped her fingers at the dog who meekly followed.
“Where did you get your new friend?” Beck asked as Phil went directly to the refrigerator and pulled out a frozen steak.
“I had to bring him home,” she said, putting the steak in the microwave to thaw. “He’s half-starved. You can count his ribs.”
“I noticed that,” Beck acknowledged. Patiently, he waited to ask any more question as she gave the poor dog the whole steak and made coffee.
They settled at the table across from each other. Beck reached for her hand and held it between both of his in a protective gesture as she told him everything that had transpired from their trip to J&B’s pub to tracking Lenny to his trailer. When she was finished, he looked at her not saying a word, his lips compressed, his blue eyes sharp with unexpressed anger.
“Say something,” she said when he remained silent.
“Why are you doing this?” he demanded.
“I want to prove you didn’t kill your wife.”
“Why? Aren’t you sure enough yourself?”
“Don’t you dare say that to me,” she flared. She’d had a rough night so far and she didn’t need to deal with masculine pride when her intentions had been the best.
“I believe in you,” she said. “Now you have to believe that my motivations are out of lo—out of caring for you. I want you to get your coaching job back and have custody of your daughter. I don’t want people to whisper behind your back. What’s happened to you isn’t fair. I want to help.”
She stopped her rush of words. His grip on her hands had tightened. Now he raised his gaze from their entwined fingers to meet hers.
“Because you care for me,” he stated with a cryptic smile.
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
“Do you know what I want to do right now?” he asked huskily.
“Tell me,” she urged, although she was pretty sure she knew what he had in mind.
“I want to take you upstairs and make love to you again and then I want to hold you all night long.”
“That’s what I want, too,” she whispered and glanced at the hound who was blissfully gnawing on the steak bone. His belly was rounded and full, a sharp contrast to the skin and bones that made up
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