That Dating Thing (6 page)

“I could introduce you to her if you’d like,” Coop offered. “You could pitch her Silvia’s fundraising idea.”

Invitation filled the blue-sin gaze holding hers, for more than just a simple introduction to his friends.

She could almost hear Sil’s silent urging.
Say yes, Rylee. Say yes!
Rylee refused to look her way. “Sil can pitch her own ideas. She handles the foundation’s business. I train dogs.”

She turned away at the unexpected flash of disappointment in Coop’s eyes and the moment passed, but despite Rylee’s lack of cooperation, Sil plowed ahead with her matchmaking strategy. Over the next hour, she grilled Coop on his life, interspersing her nosy questions with humorous memories from Rylee’s childhood. Brian, the idiot, eagerly assisted.

Like a deviant tag-team, they traded stories of the juvenile pranks. Although Adam and Brian were the architects of most, Sil focused on Rylee’s participation in their fiascos. Her aunt’s agenda was so obvious, by the time dinner ended Rylee wanted to clobber Sil over the head with her fairy-godmother wand.

For his part, Coop appeared amused by Sil’s blatant machinations. After that rejected invitation to meet his friends, he backed off from anything personal. He joined in the friendly banter around the table, laughing at himself as quickly as he did others, while Rylee wavered between relief and regret. But for the specter of her father’s crimes, Coop was a man she would enjoy getting to know. Allowing herself that pleasure, however, would only end in disaster. One more disappointment to place at her father’s feet.

Sil didn’t share her concerns. When Rylee rose to slip downstairs to check on the dogs, Sil suggested Coop join her. To Rylee’s surprise, he didn’t hesitate, admitting a desire to meet the infamous Pippin.

“She’s not very subtle, is she?” he said the moment the door shut behind them.

“No, she isn’t.” Rylee moved across the balcony and he followed. “Sorry about all of that.” She tossed her head toward the condo door. “She can’t help herself. Women born south of the Mason-Dixon Line carry a matchmaking gene.” She paused at the top of the stairs. “Look, you don’t have to do this. In fact, why don’t you go back inside? It would serve Sil right to discover her plan has failed.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

She blinked. Huh? What did he mean by that? He didn’t want to hurt Sil’s feelings by letting her know her plan hadn’t worked? Or he didn’t want to go back inside because he thought Sil’s plan had merit? The first option made her heart pulse with approval, the second made it pound with panic. The competing erratic beats made her light-headed.

God, she needed a defibrillator.

But she wouldn’t touch his comment with a ten-foot pole. She shrugged, starting down the stairs. “Suit yourself.”

“She obviously loves you,” he said, following. “And wants to see you happy.”

“And I love her, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy strangling her sometimes.”

His quiet chuckle wafted over her like a warm breeze, and made the fine hairs on her arms stand at attention. She rolled her shoulders and hastened her descent to the first floor.

“She raised you, I gather?”

“From the time I was eleven.”

“There’s no family resemblance. Was her late husband your natural uncle?”

Rylee hesitated. She lived by the rule that the less people understood her familial ties, the better. Coop, however, was now a part of her extended family. The closer she stuck to the truth the better.

“Sil is my mother’s cousin. She and Adam took me in and made me a part of their family when I was left alone.” She reached the ground floor, pulled out her key and changed the subject. “Pippin is bound to be excited, so I apologize if he acts up a little. He’s come a long way, but tends to forget his training when he’s been left alone for any length of time.”

She opened the door and stepped inside. Belle trotted out from the hallway, her docked tail ticking out her pleasure like a metronome on speed.

“There’s my girl.” Rylee rubbed the dog’s side. The Boxer leaned against her leg in a body hug. Excited barking echoed from the back of the condo. “Pippin, quiet,” Rylee called. The barking stopped.

“Nice trick.” Coop shook the paw Belle offered, less reluctantly than the first time.

“Greeting someone properly is important to Belle. She’s very polite.”

“I meant the barking,” he corrected, straightening.

She grinned. “I told you he’d be excited. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

****

“Holy shit!”

Coop stopped just inside a room resembling a small pet store, without all the pets. Cages of various sizes lined the walls, from two-feet square to something he swore he’d seen on TV, lowered over the side of a boat by shark experts. The beast inside the shark cage all but danced in anticipation of his freedom.

“Sorry,” he said belatedly. “But that is not a dog. That’s a barnyard experiment gone wrong.”

Rylee laughed, held out her arm and did something with her hand. The excited Great Dane dropped to his butt and waited while she worked the latch. In case the huge dog’s docile behavior was a ruse, Coop scanned the room for possible weapons. None appeared, and even if one had, he wouldn’t have had a chance to use it. The dog burst from the opened cage, knocking Rylee over in his haste, and charged Coop.

“Pippin!”

Rylee’s shout barely registered as Coop stumbled backward and went down under the power of the dog’s running leap. Belle’s frantic barking added to the melee.

“Oh, God. Pippin!”

One hundred-sixty pounds of fur-covered muscle, lolling tongue, and sharp white teeth straddled Coop where he lay sprawled in the doorway. To his relief, the dog didn’t use the teeth. The tongue was another story.

“Pippin, back,” Rylee commanded.

Doing his best to dodge Pippin’s sloppy lashing, Coop caught a glimpse of Rylee, crawling across the floor on her hands and knees. Pippin landed one last, wet swipe to Coop’s chin before he managed to get hold of the dog’s collar. Straightening his arms and sitting up, Coop forced the dog back several steps. Rylee reached for Pippin’s collar, scrambling to her feet and tugging him back even farther.

“Oh, dear God, are you all right?” Her eyes were wide with dismay. “Did he hurt you?”

“Only my pride.” Coop used his sleeve to wipe his face.

“I am so sorry.”

“I’m fine, Rylee,” he tried to reassure her, but she spoke over him.

“He’s still struggling with jumping when he’s excited, but he’s never done anything like that before. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

Coop climbed to his feet, dusting himself off. “I’m fine.”

Pippin yanked and twisted, trying to break her grip. “Pippin, heel!”

“Let him go.”

“No way in hell.” Eyes saucer-big, she turned her body to block the excited dog. “He wasn’t trying to hurt you, Coop. I’ll just put him back in the cage until you’re gone.”

“I realize that, Rylee, but
he
needs to know he can’t do that type of thing.”

“I agree, but—”

“He didn’t tackle
you
, Rylee. Let him go.”

Indecision shadowed her eyes and she shook her head.

“He’ll be fine. I promise. Just let him go. Now.”

She swallowed, her gaze darting down to the straining dog and back. “Easy Pippin,” she soothed. Despite her obvious unease, she uncurled her fingers from the thick collar.

The Great Dane bounded across the space in a flash. Excitement shone in his ebony eyes. His muscles bunched as he leapt. Coop stepped aside and flung out his arm, clotheslining the beast. The jolt ricocheted up Coop’s shoulder. Stopped short, Pippin slammed to the floor. Coop followed, straddling him before the dog could scramble back to his feet.

“Down,” Coop said sharply. After several long moments, the dog stopped struggling and dropped his large head to the floor. His chest heaved from exertion, but he relaxed. “Stay.”

Coop rose to his feet. Pippin didn’t move.

Rylee stared open-mouthed. “If things don’t work out for you in the D.A.’s office,” she said, “you’ve got yourself a job here anytime.” He chuckled and her smile came slow. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“I did several ride-alongs with NYPD when I first joined the D.A.’s office. Two of those days were with a K-9 unit. I picked up a few things.”

She eyed Pippin, who still hadn’t moved. “For someone who doesn’t like dogs, you have the touch.”

“Who said I don’t like dogs?”

“The other day, when I explained that your father was hurt because he saved Pippin.” She paused at his lifted brow. “Never mind. First impressions.” She shrugged. “So, are you going to let him up?”

“Go ahead,” he invited.

She shook her head. “You gave the order to stay. You finish it. And make sure to praise him. He’s sensitive.”

“Sensitive hell, he’s psychotic,” Coop grumbled then patted his thigh. “Pippin, come here, boy.”

Pippin jumped up and moved to Coop’s side. His head hung low as he approached and Coop figured she had it right. The dog was either embarrassed or cowered.

“Good boy.” Coop scrubbed the dog’s large head and Pippin’s tongue snuck out for a lick.

Rylee gripped the dog’s collar and grimaced. “We’re still working on the kissing.”

Coop hesitated at the irresistible opening. “Let me know if I can be of any help with that.”

Chapter Six

Rylee reacted to Coop’s suggestive comment exactly as he expected. She blinked and a tiny frown creased her brow. Whenever the conversation veered toward anything even remotely personal, either she fell back on that sarcastic wit she’d perfected or she retreated into silence. Like now.

Curious contradictions lurked beneath the carefree, lighthearted image she projected. She’d dismissed his show of interest, along with his invitation to meet his friends, and yet he caught her watching him several times during dinner, her eyes full of feminine awareness. Her aunt’s matchmaking annoyed her, but she smiled and teased him, including him in the family camaraderie around the table.

Confusion trumped wariness in her eyes now. He’d thrown her off-balance. Good. Since meeting her the other day, she’d been popping into his head with annoying regularity. Why should he be alone in his madness?

He’d been anxious to see her again, telling himself he’d imagined the unprecedented sexual pull he’d experienced for Elliott’s stepdaughter, step-cousin—step-whatever. His imagination was in play, all right. From the moment he’d seen her again, he’d envisioned her in a number of different situations. She’d been naked in all of them.

And he wasn’t the only one experiencing the pull. Those flashes of feminine awareness in her dark-chocolate eyes broadcast her attraction to him, an attraction she evidently planned to ignore. He’d see about that. He hadn’t earned his reputation as a successful prosecutor by backing away from a difficult case, and the beautiful dog trainer was a case he meant to crack.

He turned away and wandered further into the room. Pippin trotted at his side.

“So, this is The Canine Academy?” He eyed the cages. “Where are your other students?”

A soft release of pent up breath reached his ears and he smiled. Yes, off balance was just how he wanted her.

“Gone for the day.”

“Why is Pippin still here?”

“Pippin required a more intense program. He’s our only boarder at the moment.”

“Have dinner with me,” he said, without turning around. She didn’t answer and he waited several beats before glancing over his shoulder. Her eyes shuttered, she fell back on sarcasm.

“We just finished dinner. What do you have, a tapeworm?”

He faced her. “I’d like to take you to dinner, Rylee.”

Her hand went to Belle’s head beside her and she jutted her chin up a notch. “That wouldn’t be a good idea, Coop.”

“Why? I’m attracted to you, and a man can tell when the attraction is mutual.”

She said nothing, returning his gaze while she scratched the fur between Belle’s ears.

“It’s just a meal.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not suggesting we jet off to Vegas.”

She snorted softly. “That’s a relief. Casinos give me a headache.”

The dry sarcasm made him smile. She hadn’t said no.

“Look, you’re a great-looking guy.”

He flashed a grin, pleased when her lips twitched in response.

“And I admit you have a certain amount of charm.”

“But?”

“But, your father is married to my aunt.”

“Your mother’s cousin,” he corrected. He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped toward her. “And Dad and Silvia can get their
own
dinner.”

Her lips formed a genuine smile, but she shook her head. “People rarely come out of this kind of thing on friendly terms.”

“This kind of thing?” He continued to advance.

“We’re connected through Sil and Elliott. I don’t want to see them caught in the middle when this…dating thing, or whatever it is you’re after, ends.”

“This dating thing?”

“Or whatever it is you’re after,” she repeated. As he closed the distance, she stepped back and bumped up against the shark cage. She slapped her spread fingers against his chest to prevent him from coming any closer. “I’m not in the market for a relationship right now.”

“Then we don’t have a problem, because neither am I.” He brushed a fingertip over the perfect skin of her cheekbone. “So, here’s what I suggest.”

Her eyelids fluttered, pupils dilating, and reluctant temptation replaced the wariness in her dark orbs. Still, she kept a defensive hand on his chest.

“If you insist on negotiating when I’ve already explained my concerns,” she said, holding his gaze, “I’d rather you didn’t touch me.”

He checked the urge to kiss her at the artless admission of finding his touch disturbing. Instead, he moved his hand to the cage beside her head. He wrapped his fingers around the metal bar and dipped his head, bringing his face closer to hers. She blinked but held her ground, boldly meeting his gaze.

“I propose we get to know one another,” he pressed. “A few dinners. Maybe a show, or a ball game or two if you like. We find out what makes each other tick.”