For once, her hair wasn’t tied back in a ponytail; it hung loose, framing her face with delicate waves.
His fingers itched to touch it, to see if it really felt as silky as it looked.
“Hi,” she said. Her eyes roamed over him appreciatively. “You clean up nice.”
“So do you.”
She smiled and his heart stuttered.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured, bending down to brush a kiss against his cheek. Her perfume, something sweet and floral, tickled his nose. He straightened and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
And they were off. They made easy conversation in his car on the way to the restaurant, veering from whether or not it would rain, to a funny story about Jane’s adventure trying to wrangle a pet ferret, to a discussion about the pros and cons of personalized license plates. By the time they reached their destination, Tom was thoroughly relaxed and entertained.
He’d thought Jane was having a good time too, but when she got out of the car in the parking lot, she got strangely quiet.
“You okay?” he asked when she stopped and stared across the street. “If you don’t like the food here, we can go someplace else.”
She shook her head. Even though it was dark, he spotted tears in her eyes.
Stepping in front of her, he used two fingers to tilt her chin up so that he could get a better look at her.
Her expression of misery socked him in the gut.
“What’s wrong?”
She raised a hand and pointed a shaky finger toward the shop across the street. “That was my dream.”
“Donuts? You want donuts instead of dinner? I can do that. Donuts are great,” he said hurriedly, eager to make her happy.
She laughed, which caused two fat tears to run down her cheeks. Releasing her chin, he brushed them away.
“Sorry,” she hung her head, embarrassed. “Not exactly perfect date material, am I?”
Without thinking he pulled her to him in a tight hug to comfort her. She held herself away at first, but then seemed to melt against him, wrapping her hands around his waist and resting her head against his chest.
“Now tell me about this donut fixation,” he suggested, trying to ignore how perfectly she molded to his body, how good she smelled, how soft she felt.
“It’s not the donuts,” she sniffled. “It’s the shop. I was supposed to buy that storefront, but then Gerald, my ex-boyfriend, stole all my savings. Thirty-four thousand, five hundred and sixty-seven dollars.”
Tom tensed, overwhelmed with the urge to beat the crap out of the unnamed man who’d hurt her. “How?”
“He was my accountant,” she revealed bitterly. “And I was so happy to land someone
solid
that I never had a clue what a jerk he was until it was too late.”
The self-recrimination in her voice made him want to tell her that everyone made mistakes and that everyone gets suckered some time, but the words got caught in his throat.
“I was going to open my business there,” she continued. “You can’t see it from here, but there’s a giant fenced-in lot behind that place.”
“What were you going to do?”
“Doggie daycare.” She laughed self-consciously. “I know to most people that doesn’t sound like much of an entrepreneurial dream, but to me, it meant the world.”
“You love dogs that much?”
“I enjoy the company of dogs that much. My parents…” She took a deep breath as though to fortify herself for whatever she was about to reveal. “My parents loved each other passionately and they chased their dreams with abandon. They were professional dancers, bouncing from gig to gig.”
Tom stroked her hair, waiting for the giant “but” he sensed was coming.
“But it meant I was lonely a lot of the time, but you can’t be too lonely in the company of a dog. So yeah, I guess I love dogs.”
Tom didn’t know what to say. He’d grown up in a home with parents who had doted on him and three brothers who’d ensured he never had a moment alone. When Meghan had broken his heart, he’d retreated from the world, saying he needed his privacy. It wasn’t until this moment that he’d realized how lonely his self-imposed exile had left him.
“Do you want to see them?”
“Your parents? I thought you said they died.”
She fiddled with the antique locket she wore. The one he’d wondered if she’d stolen.
“Here they are.” She snapped it open.
He peered at the two tiny photographs, trying not to focus on the swell of her chest, even though the necklace lay between the lace-cupped mounds.
“Very nice,” he murmured.
She closed the locket with a click and let the pendant drop into the shadowy valley between her breasts. He fought the urge to dive in after it. Instead, he forced himself to raise his gaze back to her face.
Even in the dark, aided by the glow of the streetlights, he could see that once again her cheeks were flushed. It intrigued him and he stroked her face tenderly with his fingertips, delighting in the heat emanating from her skin.
“Did I embarrass you?” he whispered.
She shook her head.
He let his hand slip from her cheek to brush against her lips, delighting in the way her whole body shuddered at the touch.
Her tongue snaked out and licked his finger and it was his turn to be rocked by sensation.
Then, as though she realized she was playing with fire, she pulled back, stepping out of his embrace. She cleared her throat and smoothed her dress over her hips.
“I’m not giving up on my dream,” Jane declared, resolutely returning to their earlier topic of conversation as though they hadn’t just come this close to having mind-blowing sex on the hood of his car. “I saved up the money for it once and I’ll do it again, by hook or by crook.”
A niggle of doubt whispered to Tom through the sensual haze that thrummed through him as he remembered that Jane was his main suspect.
“Pet sitting can be a lucrative business. But enough about me, tell me why you decided to open a gym.”
The volume of the whisper in his head increased. He would have liked to have ignored it, but he’d been fooled once by a beautiful woman, it wouldn’t happen again.
Jane had mixed feelings the next morning as she headed to a meeting with Ruby, who’d called and said she had a pet-sitting job for her.
Her date with Tom the night before had been strange. At the beginning, when they’d been driving around in his little sports car, she’d felt like they were really connected, but as soon as she’d asked him about his business, he seemed to take a step back.
She’d tried to convince herself it was because he was uncomfortable talking about himself, but she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling he was hiding something. She knew about boyfriends with secrets. She knew first-hand the damage they could do, and so she too had retreated.
Their dinner had been polite, but reserved, each caught up in their own thoughts. He’d taken her straight home afterward and she’d known it was their last date. Still, he’d insisted on walking her to her front door.
She’d thanked him for a nice evening and unlocked her door, not counting on Calamity, who usually hid in the kitchen when she came home, to bound out, tripping her.
Jane would have fallen if Tom hadn’t grabbed her from behind. Hauling off her feet with an arm snaked around her waist, he pressed her against his chest for a beat too long before lowering her to the ground.
She turned to thank him for saving her, but never got the words out because he’d cradled her face between his hands and kissed her. Thoroughly.
And she’d kissed him back. With abandon.
And then he’d released her and stumbled back to his car as though putting as much distance between them as possible was a matter of life and death.
She’d leaned weakly against the doorjamb, watching him go, wondering if she’d ever see him again.
Reaching the address Ruby had given her, Jane gave herself a mental shake. She needed to focus on the job at hand.
She rang the bell and waited.
A moment later, Ruby, looking a bit flustered, opened the door. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
Jane expected to be invited in, but Ruby had other plans. Pushing past Jane, she pulled the door shut behind her and hurried away from the house.
After a stunned moment, Jane chased after her.
“I promised Mrs. Ciafonne I’d take care of her dog while she’s in the hospital, but I just don’t have the time.” She marched up the front walk of her next-door-neighbor’s yard, pulled out a key, and unlocked the front door.
“And I can’t keep imposing on my nephew to do it,” she said, raising her voice. “He’s got much more important things on his mind.”
Hearing her voice, a little white ball of fluff charged toward them.
Instinctively, Jane knelt to greet the dog.
The Maltese, festooned with pink bows, leapt into her arms and began to lick her face.
“It would appear that Marshmallow likes you,” Ruby declared.
“Marshmallow?” Jane twisted her head back so that she could speak without ending up with the dog’s tongue in her mouth. “Your nephew is Tom?”
“Unless I decide to disown him.” She eyed Jane curiously. “You know him?”
Putting the dog down, Jane got to her feet. “We’ve met. Because of Marshmallow in fact.”
“Now that’s interesting. Very interesting,” Ruby murmured.
Jane wondered what had brought the sudden smile to the older woman’s lips.
“So you’ll take the job?”
“You haven’t told me what you want me to do.”
“Walk her, play with her, feed her.”
“How many times per day?’
Ruby cocked her head to the side, thinking. “How often do you do most dogs in the neighborhood?”
“Two or three times a day.”
“Let’s make it three,” Ruby declared with a smile.
Jane did some quick calculations regarding her schedule. “How would around nine, around one, and around six work?”
“Whatever you say, my dear.” Ruby grinned, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes. She pressed the key into Jane’s hand. “I’ve got to run. Why don’t you take some time and show yourself around?”
With that and a quick pat to Marshmallow’s head, Ruby left.
Jane scooped by the cheery, wriggling Maltese and snuggled her for a minute, and then locked the front door. Safety 101 was to never leave a door unlocked behind her. Someone creepy like Graham the handyman might wander in after her.
Putting Marshmallow down, she surveyed the foyer, noting the collection of antique silver spoons hanging in a case on one her right. She sniffed the air. It was stale. No wonder the poor dog enjoyed her walks so much.
“Okay, Marshmallow,” Jane said, staring into her adorable eyes, “show me where the good stuff’s hidden.”
“You didn’t tell me you know that girl,” Ruby said, bustling into her dining room where Tom had set up his surveillance equipment.
Instead of answering, Tom scowled.
“If you’ve met her, you must know she’s not your thief,” Ruby continued, undeterred by his silence or dark mood. “So why this elaborate set-up?”
Tom concentrated on the monitor, watching Jane’s progress through Mrs. Ciafonne’s home on the cameras he’d set up after he’d convinced his aunt to help him catch the neighborhood burglar.
To his surprise, or relief, she hadn’t made a beeline for the bedrooms where valuables might be stored. Instead, she wandered through the house, taking time to play with the dog, in search of the kitchen.
“Thomas,” Ruby said sharply, “you haven’t answered me.”
“She’s had access to all the houses and no one thinks twice about her walking in and out of them.”
“But you’ve
met
her,” Ruby countered as though that alone was reason enough for Tom to
know
Jane was innocent.
“She’s got motive. She’s desperate to open a Doggie Daycare.” As he imparted that nugget of information to his aunt, he watched Jane begin to systematically go through the kitchen cupboards.
“You can’t fault the young woman for having a dream.”
Tom glanced up at his aunt, who was observing him intently. “I don’t. But knowing that her ex-boyfriend stole her savings does give me reason to think she may have a better motive than others. Plus, it’s been pointed out that these thefts began not long after Jane got her start in this neighborhood.”
Ruby pursed her lips disapprovingly. “By who? That other dog walker? The most disagreeable woman who’s telling anyone who will listen that this is the fault of her competitor?”
He dipped his head in acknowledgement.
“Really, Tom. I thought you were a better judge of character than that.”
He had too. Before Meghan.
Distracted by her beauty and charm, he’d missed, or ignored, the signs that his fiancée was cheating on him. Ever since he’d been distracted, looking for things that weren’t there and missing stuff that was right in front of him. Brady was right, his powers of observation were slipping.
A movement on the screen captured his attention. Jane stood in the kitchen arms outstretched to the sides, looking at Marshmallow and talking to her.
As though the dog understood, she ran over to the door Tom knew led to the garage, and scratched at it. Jane shrugged and followed, moving off-camera.