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Her eyebrows seemed to be stuck under her bangs, but at least the corners of her mouth had turned up. She took the bouquet from him. “You brought me flowers?”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “Yeah. It’s a small token of apology. I was a jerk and I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” She raised the bouquet to her nose and took a deep breath. “I love freesia. They smell heavenly.”
He had no idea which of the colorful flowers was freesia, but he’d have to remember the name. It had evidently done the trick. He was surprised by and appreciative of the ease with which she’d put their awkward beginning behind her. No stalling. No making him grovel.
She retrieved a jug from the cabinets and filled it with water. When she’d placed the flowers in it, she lifted them to her nose again, closing her eyes as she inhaled. She opened her eyes again, and her gaze locked with his. He could have sworn he heard the clock on the wall ticking the seconds away as they stared at each other. There was something unfathomable in the depths of her eyes. “Sniff...” he finally said.
Madison smiled, took a treat out of her lab coat pocket and offered it to the dog.
Sniff accepted it politely. She lowered to one knee beside the dog. “What brings you here today, my friend?” she asked while she checked Sniff’s eyes and heart rate.
Rick noted the tender, caring way Madison touched and manipulated Sniff’s joints. She immediately eased up when he flinched as she moved his hind left leg. She raised her eyes, a hand on Sniff’s back. “Cruciate ligament acting up?”
Rick nodded. She’d obviously checked the file. “I know he’s not that old, but I want his policing days behind him soon.”
Madison had a thoughtful expression on her face. “He’s more than a tool to you, isn’t he?”
Through her work, she must have discovered that very few handlers were able to maintain the detachment from their dogs to consider them “tools.” Rick and Sniff were a team. He cared about Sniff as much as he cared about his two-legged colleagues. He nodded again, slowly.
As he watched Madison continue her exam, he felt a peculiar churning in his gut. Yeah, he’d had breakfast at six, grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch and it was almost five now, but he didn’t think the sensation had anything to do with being hungry.
Rick shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He thrust his hands back into his pants pockets. He didn’t want to dwell on the reason he’d done it—the fact that all of a sudden he was tempted to reach out and discover the texture of Madison’s springy red hair or how smooth her complexion really was. He liked women. Sure. Too much sometimes. But this felt different somehow, and he’d just met her. He considered how gentle she was with his dog.
That’s it! It was Sniff, he rationalized. Anyone who loved his dog was okay by him. That was all. He cleared his throat, wondering if he was coming down with a bug, and tried to ignore the strange sensation in his stomach.
Madison cocked her head slightly and shone a light into Sniff’s right ear. “You would’ve initiated the process to retire Zeke, even if I hadn’t bullied you into it,” she said, switching the light to the dog’s other ear.
Rick laughed. The thought that she’d be able to bully him into anything struck him as ludicrous—but judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t amused. “Yeah,” he said, sobering. “Of course. Zeke’s earned retirement.” Seeing that she was about to give Sniff a cortisone injection for the pain in his leg, he bent down to soothe and distract his dog.
Rick’s head was only a foot or so from hers, and her scent swirled around him. It was something subtle and musky. It caused an uncomfortable itch at the back of his neck. He reached behind him to scratch at it. “So has Sniff,” he went on. “And I don’t want him getting injured to earn it.”
Madison looked up at him again, and he noticed that her green eyes were specked with gold, the irises rimmed with it. “Sorry,” he murmured, “what was that?” He’d entirely missed what she’d said.
She smiled again. “I asked what the SDPD usually does with service dogs when they retire. You told me what’s going to happen with Zeke. Is that typical? And what’ll happen to Sniff once he retires?” she asked while uncapping the hypodermic needle.
He shrugged. “In most cases, if a dog’s handler is able to, he or she will generally keep the dog. Sniff will live out his life with me.”
Madison gave Sniff his shot, the dog barely noticing the pinprick sensation. Seeing the look of understanding and concern in her eyes, Rick felt even more drawn to her.
“Jagger—our captain—he’s having a barbecue for the unit this weekend. On Sunday.” The words tumbled out before he realized he’d said them. Her eyes were questioning. She was no doubt trying to figure out what his declaration had to do with her. Before he could question his own sanity, he barreled on. “You’ve met Jagger and most of the unit already?”
She nodded, uncertainty still evident on her face.
“Why don’t you come with me?” he suggested. They both rose, and Sniff danced between them, knowing the routine well enough that he expected a dog treat after an exam. Madison didn’t disappoint him and offered him a biscuit she extracted from a glass jar on the counter, slipping some extras in her pocket.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?” He must have missed part of the conversation again. He didn’t understand the question.
“Why are you asking me to go with you?”
What was she expecting? It was just a spontaneous thing. Did she have to analyze it?
She must have sensed his confusion and clarified. “Are you inviting me so you can introduce me to the whole unit? To help me fit in?”
He laughed. “No. I’m asking you as...as my date.” He grinned, hoping it would seal the deal. He really wanted to get to know her better. The more he saw of her, the more he liked her.
Madison bent down to scratch Sniff behind the ears, pulling out another treat from her pocket and presenting it to him.
The fact that she seemed to be thinking about his invitation wasn’t a good sign. At least she hadn’t given him an outright no. But the “no” was coming. Rick could feel it. He was seldom wrong about women’s reactions to him. He supposed it would be understandable if she declined. They hadn’t had the smoothest of introductions, and he had to accept responsibility for that. He assumed his customary stance of hands in pockets, anticipating rejection.
Madison held his gaze for a long moment, until a smile spread across her face. “Sure. Why not?”
“Great. That’s great. Are we done here with Sniff?” It seemed he’d been wrong this time, and he was glad of it.
“Yes. Other than the cruciate, he’s in good health and obviously happy, but I agree that you should think about retiring him. His hind legs will only get worse with age and strenuous use. You want him home as a pet, enjoying a well-deserved retirement, before he injures himself and perhaps does permanent damage.”
“That’s the plan. Can I see Zeke now?”
Madison nodded and took him to the recovery area.
Zeke looked good, considering everything he’d been through. Madison explained that he was coming along nicely and could go to Jeff’s family in a few days.
When they’d finished with Zeke, Rick paused by the door. “I’ll pick you up at five on Sunday. Does that work for you?”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s fine.”
“All right.” He was about to exit when he saw her grin. “I guess I’d better get your home address, right?”
“I guess.” She took a pen out of her pocket, scribbled an address and phone number on a sheet of paper and handed it to him. “See you Sunday.”
He folded the paper and tucked it in his shirt pocket, then gave her a jaunty little salute. “Yeah. I’m looking forward to it. Grab your leash,” he instructed Sniff. Tapping the side of his thigh, he had Sniff heeling again as he walked through the reception area.
“Everything okay?” Heather asked when he passed the reception counter.
Rick raised his eyes to the ceiling, and his expression made Heather giggle.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re not the first man and you certainly won’t be the last to come in here and react to Madison like that.”
* * *
MADISON CLEANED UP the exam room. Since there were no patients waiting for her, she walked over to Heather and leaned on the reception counter.
“How’d it go with Enrique?” Heather asked with a smirk.
“Fine. Why do you call him that?”
“What? Enrique?”
“Uh-huh.”
Heather shrugged. “I think Enrique suits him better than Rick—too common. So does Pitbull.”
“What kind of alias is Pitbull anyway? Why do they call him that?”
“Logan told me it’s because he’s tenacious. About his work. About what matters to him.”
Oh, yes, Madison could see that. She could see him being very determined and stubborn, depending on the circumstances.
“You two met before?” Heather interrupted her thoughts. “And you didn’t remember him?”
“Oh, I remembered, all right,” Madison said.
“But you let me go on about him...”
“First, I didn’t know he was the sergeant. I thought his dog was Zeke, not Sniff. Also, you called him Enrique. I was introduced to him by Angela as Rick. No last name.”
Heather grinned. “Well, I really do think Enrique suits him better. He’s not keen on it... I like it, though. I think it actually amuses him when I call him that. The aka suits him, too, but in a different way. Pitbull fits his personality. Enrique... Well, he’s got that whole sexy Latino thing going for him, and that appeals to me!”
Madison chuckled.
“What can I say? I’m attracted to tall, dark, good-looking men.”
Madison felt her eyes widen. It occurred to her that she might be treading on Heather’s territory by having accepted a date with Rick. “Are you...together?”
Heather laughed, as well. “No! We’re not.” She got up and walked to the printer. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she retorted, “But a girl can dream, can’t she?” She grabbed a printout and left the reception area, her laughter drifting over to Madison.
Madison watched Heather walk away, but her thoughts were on a tall, dark and decidedly handsome cop. Yeah, a girl could dream.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_8a847bac-6544-5518-9ae0-0c45c54ecb17)
RICK RODE HIS Harley-Davidson Electra Glide onto the narrow driveway at Madison’s house. He shut off the engine and removed his helmet. The small cottage-like house wasn’t what he’d expected. As structured, organized, practical as Madison seemed to be, he’d expected something a little more...well, a little less fanciful. Whimsical was a word he couldn’t remember ever using, but that was what popped into his mind. It made him think of the houses the hobbits occupied in the Lord of the Rings movies.
He remembered his parents taking him to all three films in the series when he’d first lived with them. He smiled at the memory of how they’d tried to translate, in their broken Spanish, some of the finer points related to Middle Earth that he hadn’t understood, despite the fact that he’d spoken English reasonably well as a kid.
Just thinking about it gave him a warm feeling he’d never experienced prior to being part of the Stewart clan. Madison’s place made a similar impression on him.
Her house was well maintained, neat and orderly, if on a small scale. From what he’d seen, neat and orderly defined Madison. He dismounted and grabbed the spare helmet that had been strapped to the back carrier of his bike, then made his way to the front door.
He knocked and glanced at the planter next to him. It didn’t surprise him that he couldn’t see a single dead petal or leaf on the colorful, sweet-smelling plants or in the container. The flowers were so perfect he was tempted to touch them, to make sure they were real. He was a stickler for cleanliness, but he couldn’t consider himself particularly neat. It was almost impossible, living with a police dog.
When the door opened, he felt like a teenager experiencing his first high-school crush.
Madison was wearing a flowing, frilly, multihued summer dress that might have looked fussy on someone else. On her it looked... He couldn’t find the word for it, other than right. Her hair was in some fancy updo, little ringlets teasing the sides of her face. She wore dangly earrings. And her lips, with that beguiling smile, glistened with some sort of shiny stuff as if...well, as if she’d just been kissed and her lips were still moist from it.
He rubbed a hand over his stomach where a knot was forming because the thought of kissing her was all too tempting. Watching those lips, he saw her smile fade. He shifted his gaze to her eyes and noticed her staring at his motorcycle. He glanced over his shoulder at his bright blue bike—his pride and joy—wondering what had put the look of consternation on her face. There wasn’t anything wrong with his bike. He’d polished it to a gleam that morning. He glanced back at her. “Is something wrong?”
She motioned toward the Harley. “You brought a motorcycle.”
“Yes.”
“Look at me.” She gestured with a hand from her torso to her feet. “How am I supposed to ride on that thing in this?”
Rick did look at her. The light material fluttered in the gentle breeze, accentuating the curves he admired so much, the hem ending just above slim, shapely ankles. And he looked down at her feet, virtually naked in the high-heeled, delicate, almost nonexistent sandals she wore. He understood her dilemma, and felt a little foolish. “It’s a barbecue we’re going to,” he said in self-defense. He indicated his own faded jeans and white T-shirt. “You know, burgers, fries, apple pie and beer.”
Madison’s eyebrows furrowed. Obviously, he’d said the wrong thing.
Rick tucked the spare helmet under his arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I’d be bringing my bike. It didn’t occur to me that it would be a problem.” He dropped his gaze to her feet again, those darn sexy feet with the orangey polish on the toenails. “You can’t ride in those shoes. Do you have some sneakers or something?” He almost groaned at the look she gave him. He’d managed to put his foot in his mouth again.
“Do you really expect me to get on that thing with you? As far as my outfit goes, you’re taking me to meet your boss and your colleagues. My clients. I know I’ve already met most of them at the clinic. But that was work and I was in work clothes. Did you expect me to wear jeans?”
Rick felt frazzled and was starting to think this was a big mistake. He wasn’t usually an impulsive person, and this seemed to be a perfect example of why he shouldn’t be. “Well, yeah. That’s what they’ll all be wearing.”
“And their wives or girlfriends?”
“Much the same. But you look great!” he added hastily, forcing a too-wide smile and trying to appease her or at least recover some of the ground he seemed to be losing fast. “Really beautiful.”
Her frown was more pronounced as she eyed his bike again. “I’ll get my keys and we can take my Cayenne instead,” she decided.
He waited until she’d turned her back, then rolled his eyes. She disappeared inside her house but left the door ajar. Before Rick had a chance to wonder why she hadn’t invited him in, a big silver-gray dog, a beautiful Alaskan malamute, sauntered into the doorway. Rick wasn’t afraid of dogs—obviously not with his profession—but he knew all dogs could be protective of their handlers, uh, owners. And their territories. In this case, the dog seemed relaxed, even friendly, although he had to weigh at least a hundred and twenty pounds. There’d be a lot of power in the dog’s broad jaw. Madison hadn’t mentioned anything about having a dog, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. He wouldn’t have expected one quite so large, though. Rick tucked his hands in his pockets and smiled. “How’s it going?”
The dog plopped down right in the middle of the doorway, raised his snout and let out a woo-hoo sound.
He didn’t look menacing. Rick held out a hand for the dog to sniff. When that went well, he crouched down and scratched him behind the ears, all the while wondering what was taking Madison so long to find her keys. He might not have known her well, but one thing he’d gathered from her office and her house—she was organized and neat, meticulously so. He would’ve thought she’d know exactly where her keys were. She should have been back already.
To pass the time, Rick ran a hand along the dog’s silky coat.
He caught a whiff of that alluring musky scent of Madison’s before he saw her enter the vestibule from a hallway to the left.
“Oh, I’m glad you met Owen. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
Seeing her, he nearly toppled over. He steadied himself with a hand on the railing.
He’d been disappointed that she was averse to riding a motorcycle, something he had a zeal for. He’d also been a bit baffled by her apparent lack of spontaneity. But now, seeing her... Wow!
She didn’t seem to be holding keys. Instead, she’d reappeared wearing dark skinny jeans, a snug long-sleeved T-shirt and—biggest surprise of all—low-heeled biker boots. She’d undone the arrangement of her hair, and all that springy red now rioted around her face and shoulders, nearly down to her waist.
“You changed?” Rick immediately felt ridiculous about stating the obvious, but his brain cells must have gone into a coma. He couldn’t think straight, staring at her looking so undeniably hot.
He rose, and she gave him a flirty smile. If she’d appealed to him before, what he saw now could drive him crazy. It wasn’t about the clothes or how sexy she looked. Okay, that didn’t hurt, he corrected himself. But it was about her spontaneity and her willingness to change her plans—and her clothes. This woman was someone he could really fall for.
“Yes,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “You’d made your point.”
“Sorry? What?” He’d been so distracted again he’d lost the train of their conversation.
She smiled, showing even, white teeth between sexy, full lips. “I had to change to be able to ride on your motorcycle.” She slid an elastic off her wrist and reached up to tie her hair in a ponytail. “I’m glad Owen kept you company while I was gone,” she said, and gave the dog an affectionate hug before sending him out into the yard.
