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“Oops.” She stuffed her phone into her bag and bowed her head as Hunter began the prayer. She added silent thanks for her blessings of family and a plea for poor Oscar. If things didn’t work out, she would hate for him to go back to living behind barred doors. She shivered, breaking a little inside at the memory. She knew exactly how heartbreaking that existence could be.
* * *
Squinting against the late afternoon sun shining in her eyes, she pulled to a stop at the curb. The small pickup she’d borrowed from Brianna idled roughly as she put it in Park.
This was Liam’s house? She studied the bungalow shaded by two broadleaf maples. The front porch framed two spacious windows and a front door, giving the home a smiling look.
A bark erupted the moment she opened the truck’s door. A golden blur streaked across the tidy lawn as she rose to her feet.
“No, Oscar! No!” Liam’s laughter held no sting as his command echoed in the front yard. He raced into sight but not fast enough to stop the golden blur from springing over a row of low shrubbery.
She caught sight of ears up, tongue lolling and bright canine eyes gleaming. She braced for impact, just in case. “Oscar, sit.”
Did it work? Not a chance. Paws hit her shoulders, a tongue swiped from her chin to her forehead and she sat down hard on the sidewalk, eighty pounds of dog in her lap.
“Brooke, are you all right?” Liam’s concern, Liam’s hand on her arm, his caring blue eyes meeting hers.
“I’m fine.” A dog’s happy kiss swiped across her face again and she laughed. Really laughed. After a hard day dealing with ghosts of her past and worries of how the trial was affecting Brianna, Oscar’s exuberance felt like a gift, a true blessing that was as welcome as the warm May sun and the song of the breeze through the maple leaves. “Oscar, you are a great boy. Do you know that?”
Chocolate eyes twinkled a happy answer. The big dog leaped and danced on the sidewalk, caught a whiff of her purse and tried to stick his nose beneath the leather flap.
“Oscar?” Liam caught his collar. “No more destruction. You’ve maxed out your daily limit, buddy.”
“I think he’s going for the dog biscuits I picked up on the way over. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Careful. Leather is edible, at least to him. So are most materials known to man.” He held out his free hand to help her from the ground. She reached without thought, her palm sliding against his. A jolt of awareness whispered through her, the oddest of sensations, a charged sweetness. What on earth? She’d never experienced anything like that before.
Did he feel this, too? She couldn’t tell. His face remained unchanged as his hand fell away from hers, leaving her palm tingly. Somehow she made her feet work, falling into stride beside him. Oscar bounded between them on the walkway, sniffing her purse.
“How is Brianna holding up?” Kindness layered Liam’s question. “This had to be a hard day of remembering.”
“Yes, but she’s awesome. She’s been through a lot of trauma but she’s handling this better than I could in her shoes.”
“Have she and Max set a wedding date yet?”
“Word is they want a Christmas wedding, although nothing official yet.” She tapped up the front steps and onto the cozy porch, keeping a good hold on her bag. Oscar had begun to drool. “They are going to wait until all this court stuff is over.”
“Smart. Finish one chapter, then start another.” He pulled open the front door, giving her a new view of the destruction. “I haven’t been home long enough to tackle this.”
“Oh, Oscar.” She gaped at the scene. The pictures Liam sent hadn’t begun to tell the whole story. Amazed, she walked into the ruin, stepping over DVD cases and fluffs of stuffing from the couch pillows, shocked at Oscar’s thoroughness.
The Lab whined, worry furrowing his doggy brow.
“You know that was wrong, don’t you?” She kept her voice gentle but didn’t hide her disappointment in him.
Oscar’s head sank. His haunches went down. No whine had ever sounded as sorry.
“See? This is my problem.” Liam’s gaze speared hers, full of sympathy for his canine friend. “He loses his head and then regrets it later. He’s not a bad dog.”
“Not even close.” She liked Liam more for understanding that. With the slant of the light through the windows falling across him he appeared gilded, like a dream. Why did her heart skip three beats? Why couldn’t she pull away to put more physical distance between them?
All good questions. The fact that she actually felt a little comfortable with him surprised her more. Maybe it was how he’d protected her earlier in the courtroom corridor, hauling her purposefully away from the nosy reporter. She wasn’t good at letting anyone do something for her, even family. She’d become very self-reliant. Maybe too self-reliant. His help had felt nice.
Liam gave the front door a push, closing it with a final click. He squared his shoulders as he surveyed the room. “I’ve been wanting to redecorate anyway.”
Funny. She liked that about him, too. The left side of his mouth crooked upward into a grin and a dimple dug into his lean cheek. Totally a likeable guy.
“Do you know what you need?” She did her best to drag her gaze away from his riveting dimple.
“A swift kick for my brilliant idea to get a dog?”
“No, because it was a brilliant idea. You saved him. You gave him a new life.” She tried to sound casual, keeping her approval tucked down deep. Did she succeed? Who knew? She suspected probably not. “What you need is someone to help you clean up this mess.”
“You would do that?” Liam’s gaze harpooned her and she could see into him, where his kindness lived.
“Why not?” She wasn’t affected by him. Really. And that was the story she was sticking with. “I like to help where I can, and let’s face it, you have a problem here. It’s hard to believe one dog could do so much damage.”
“Wait till you see the kitchen.” The dimple cutting into his cheek deepened and so did the gleam in his eyes. “That’s nice of you, Brooke. It’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”
“Probably the only offer you’ve had all day.”
“True.” His chuckle rumbled smooth and warm like butter melting, and a matching dimple bracketed the right corner of his mouth. For most women that would probably be irresistible.
Good thing she was immune.
“I may as well feed you since you’re here anyway.” A casual invitation as he knelt to gather up a bunch of DVD cases. Most of them only had a few teeth marks. “I’ve got some meat defrosting in the kitchen. All I can offer you is a hamburger.”
“I’ve never met a hamburger I haven’t liked.”
“Excellent. Another thing we have in common.”
“You’re counting?” She rescued a couch cushion from the floor.
“Just making conversation. Trying to figure out the puzzle that is Brooke McKaslin.”
“I’m a puzzle?”
“Only in that I don’t know anything about you.” He set the DVDs on a shelf. “I’ve known Colbie and Lil for years, ever since they moved in next door to my grandmother. We attend the same church.”
“Then why didn’t I see you at yesterday’s service?” She studied him with an analytical arch to her amazing blue eyes and it made his heart catch.
That lurch in his chest bothered him.
“Let me guess.” He rescued more DVDs from the floor. “You went to the early service.”
“And you didn’t?”
“Nope. I find it tough to get up early on Sunday.”
“Ah, another piece of the puzzle that is Liam Knightly.”
“I’m no puzzle. With me, what you see is what you get.”
“That’s too bad.”
He rolled his eyes, laughing along with her. He rescued a few stray DVDs that still might work once the dried slobber was cleaned off. He gave them a swipe with his sleeve. “So, what do you do besides coming to the rescue of desperate dog owners?”
“I’ll let you know. I’m currently unemployed.”
“Ouch. Been there.” He matched up DVDs with their mangled cases, but where were his eyes? Watching her. “It was long, long ago but I remember it clearly. Unemployment is not fun.”
“No, but I’m not dwelling on it. Something will work out.” She straightened the last cushion. Her movements, graceful and self-conscious, stole him. It was as if she’d reached right over and tried grabbing his heart.
“Well, something worked out for you today. Oscar is your next job.” He swallowed against the tightness in his throat, but nothing could dispel the odd sensation of almost being caught by her.
He didn’t want to be caught by anyone.
“I’m sure Oscar will be the best job I’ve ever had. He’s a sweetie.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He ambled around the coffee table, still on its side, and bent to right it. “Colbie might keep finding you work.”
“You never know. She’s certainly determined.” She dug in her purse and withdrew a packet of needles and different-colored thread bobbins. “I think she wants me to find something here so that I’ll stay in Montana.”
“Do you want to stay?” He heaved the oak coffee table onto all four legs, watching her through his lashes.
“I don’t know.” Her voice dipped. “I’ve gotten used to life in Seattle.”
“Oh, I get it. You have someone there. A boyfriend?” Why was he disappointed? He should not be bummed because Brooke had a significant other.
“No, no way. Just a life I’ve gotten comfortable with.” She held up a length of thread to one of the couch cushions, nodded and chose a needle.
No boyfriend? Why was he relieved? “Sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone. Take a risk.”
“I’ve done that. Got burned.” She shrugged, oddly vulnerable and trying to hide it. “Lived to regret it. Hugely.”
“Who hasn’t?”
“True.” He didn’t know what it was about her that drew him. It was a mystery he had to figure out. Was it her honesty, like the quietest note of a hymn, that hooked him? Or the promise of an amazing spirit that went along with her breath-stealing beauty? He wished he knew. One thing he liked was a puzzle. It was the reporter in him. He had to know more, so he tried again. “What do you do for a living?”
“A little of this, a little of that.” She threaded the needle. “I think the couch cushion is totally salvageable, but what about that throw pillow?”
“Not a chance of saving it, and I’m the one asking the questions.” He swept up the pillow missing half its stuffing. He had more pressing matters, mainly the intrigue of Brooke McKaslin. “Where did you go to college?”
“I didn’t.”
Curious. He would have pegged her for an intellectual type with a degree in fine arts or maybe social work. She stayed away for most holidays or he would have spotted her at Gram’s long before this. “Why did you move so far from your family?”
“Uh…” She looked up from knotting her thread. Her long hair whipped as she glanced around the room. “Liam, where is Oscar?”
“Nice one, but you aren’t going to distract me. I’m on a mission—”
“No, really, where’s Oscar?” Concern tugged at her rosebud lips. “Where did he go?”
A crash rang from the kitchen, accompanied by the thud of something four-footed landing on the floor. A plate clattered to a ringing stop.
“Mystery solved,” Liam quipped. “He’s in the kitchen helping himself to our dinner.”
Chapter Four
“Amazing. The wrapping isn’t even stopping him.” Liam surveyed what remained of the defrosting pound of hamburger with disbelief etched on his face. “Worse, it didn’t even slow him down.”
“Oscar has a gift, that’s for sure.” Brooke laughed. “Oscar, give.”
Recognition sparked in chocolate-brown eyes. The dog obviously knew the word. His jowls stopped working. Big, sharp teeth clamped mutinously. With his big feet braced and every muscle tensed, he did not want to relinquish his prize.
“Oscar.” She willed a little authority into her voice. “Give.”
His eyes went down. His head went down. With one big swallow he gulped the rest of the meat before there was any hope of recovering it. All she saw was a flash from the wrapping paper before it disappeared behind his sharp teeth.
“I’m disappointed in you.” She let that show in her words, too.
Oscar swallowed one final time and whined in defeat, and his nose drooped to the floor as if he were disappointed in himself, too. Doggy brows arched in dismay.
A perfect picture of remorse.
“Just like with the ham.” Liam raked his fingers through his thick locks of hair. “He totally lost his head and lived to regret it.”
“We’ll have to work on his impulse control. And you.” She whirled at him, doing her best not to notice the concern for the dog on his face, the fact that he wasn’t angry, that he wasn’t quick to lash out at the dog. “You know he has food issues. You shouldn’t have left that meat out to tempt him.”
“Me? I’m in trouble?” He chuckled at that, thought about it, shook his head. “I probably deserve it. You’re right. I clearly need training.”
“Glad you can admit it. That’s the first step.” She shouldn’t be chuckling along with him. Just like she shouldn’t be noticing how handsome he was with his silk tie askew and loosened, with his striped dress shirt a little wrinkled and the top button undone. She shouldn’t be noticing the way the sunlight backlit him, glossing him like a statue. The most incredible statue she’d ever seen—sculpted masculine features, carved muscled physique and compassion towering over her.
Don’t gasp. Don’t stare. Don’t notice. She swallowed hard, trying to will her eyes to move away from him. Did they?
No. Did she want them to?
No. And wasn’t that the problem? Surely if she tried hard enough she could talk herself into it, right?
“I’ve got to get used to having you around, buddy.” He knelt to rub the dejected dog’s head. Poor Oscar was so unhappy with himself, he whined even harder. Worry creased his canine face. “We’ll figure it out, yes we will. I’m guessing you were awful hungry at least one time in your life, huh, buddy?”
“He probably was.” Brooke knelt, caught by the man’s sensitivity, impressed that he’d figured out what was driving Oscar’s behavior on a deeper level. “Everyone has things that motivate them or hold them back. Even dogs.”
“Are you telling me he’s always going to be a food thief?” Humor in those words, sympathy for Oscar in those deep eyes.
“It’s likely. He’ll get better, but it’s easier to train you not to leave food out.”
“Ah, that’s what you meant about the training me thing?”
