The Truth About Cats & Dogs (3 page)

Seeing that the dogs would get along fine, Buck decided to look around Sadie's apartment. It was nice, in a female-cluttered kind of way. Lots of silly knickknacks, lush plants, a few ruffles here and there, like on the white kitchen curtains and the tablecloth on her minuscule dinette table.

On her refrigerator were a variety of photos. No men, no family, just cats and dogs of varying sizes and ages. It devastated him to think of what they had been through. It took a strong woman with a big heart to heal them. It took a special woman.

A woman without much of a social life.

Beside the refrigerator hung a calendar. Buck hesitated, he really did. But there was no sign of Sadie's return, and the temptation was too great. Because she was so standoffish, this was the best chance he'd likely ever get to know her better.

He walked over to the calendar and read the few notes she'd written in for September. Most of her days were empty, but there were four blocks with writing in them. She had marked an afternoon ap
pointment with a vet, a trip to the dentist, a library book due back and carpet cleaners scheduled.

No dinner dates. No parties. Nothing exciting at all.

He flipped back to look at August and saw much of the same. Then back to July—and he froze.

July second, Sadie had met with a funeral director. Two days later, she'd met a lawyer. In her ladylike script were the words “Settle Mother's estate.” And two days after that was “Secure death certificate.”

Jesus.
Buck swallowed, wondering if her mother's death had precipitated her moving into his apartment complex. The timing was right. He stared off at nothing in particular, trying to remember how she'd been three months ago, when he'd first met her. Quiet, alone. She'd spent nearly a week moving in, unloading her car each day all by herself. Back and forth she'd go, thin arms laden with cardboard boxes, lamps and small pieces of furniture.

What she couldn't carry she'd pushed or dragged in. She'd been relentless, tireless. Determined.

Buck had offered her a helping hand, but she'd refused, thanked him and gone back to work. That first day had seemed to set a precedent. No matter what he offered, she always refused.

The dogs came running past Buck's feet in a blur, ears flattened to their round heads, tiny bodies streamlined. They were a cute distraction. Tish enjoyed Butch's company, and Butch looked besotted.

Buck narrowed his eyes in thought. He had two
weeks' vacation lined up, and no real plans because it'd all be spent with Butch. If being here made Butch happy, and being with Butch made Tish happy, then surely it'd make Sadie happy, too.

Maybe he could combine things to everyone's advantage.

He rubbed his hands together as the plan formed. Ms. Sadie Harte wouldn't be able to deny him any longer.

The best way to her heart was through her dog.

S
ADIE RAN THROUGH
her morning routine in record-breaking time. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was half-afraid that if she took too long, Buck would leave. That he was in her apartment in the first place was nothing short of a miracle.

With ruthless determination, she brushed the tangles out of her hair and pulled it back into a quick twist. It wasn't the neatest job she'd ever done, but then she'd never done her hair with a big handsome man waiting for her in his underwear.

Oh, Lord.

Hands shaking, she cleaned her teeth, even gargled for safe measure—not that she expected to be too close to Buck, but…Several times, he'd invaded her personal space.

She stared at herself in the mirror, breathing hard, unseeing. Every single time Buck had gotten near, she'd enjoyed it. It likely meant nothing; he was a big guy and just naturally took up more room than most. But it still thrilled her, even when she knew she had
no business being thrilled. Buck was not the kind of man she could start dreaming about.

But he smelled so good. Hot and musky-male. The freshness of the brisk morning air had competed with his scent, creating an intoxicating mix.

She closed her eyes, took a calming breath and quickly washed her face. She never bothered with jewelry or makeup, so less than ten minutes later she was dressed in a crisp pink blouse, a brown skirt with matching cardigan, and her comfortable weekend loafers. She had a bath towel—the largest she owned—draped over one arm.

Still she hesitated. Buck Boswell was just so…
much.
So much male, so much muscle, so much appeal.

And he was sitting in
her
kitchen. In his underwear. With his impressive, hairy chest, wide hard shoulders and flat abdomen all on display.

Sadie shivered in sensual delight. She felt terribly excited and anxious and apprehensive, all at the same time.

Never in her twenty-five years had a man sat mostly naked in her kitchen. Never. She'd had men over, of course. She wasn't a complete social misfit. But they were businessmen, guys from the shelter dropping off a pet for her to nurture, or the lawyer with papers for her to sign concerning her mother's affairs.

In some ways this was very, very different.

In others, it wasn't different at all.

Determined to face reality, Sadie reminded herself that Buck wasn't here for a date any more than the other men had been. Despite his frequent attempts to be friendly, he wasn't interested in her on a personal level; she'd seen the women Buck preferred, and they were nothing like her.

If she hadn't locked him out of his apartment, he wouldn't be here now. She'd ordered him outside to rescue her dog, then repaid him by locking him out in his underwear. She wanted to groan. He had reason to be furious with her.

She'd handled plenty of large male animals that'd been angry and fearful because of past treatment. She'd soothed them, petted them until they calmed down and eventually won them over. She only had a few scars to show for her efforts. Nothing dramatic. Nothing life-altering.

Besides, Buck didn't seem all that angry, and she doubted he went around biting women. And she definitely wouldn't be petting him.

Her heart gave a tiny little trip even as she formed the thought.

But no. He wasn't interested in intimacy, even if she felt that daring. And she didn't. Really. But the thought of stroking his powerful body made her flush, and then snicker at the absurdity of it.

Done being a coward, she forced herself to leave the room. When she rounded the corner of the hall, her
eyes went immediately to the small kitchen table, and found it empty. Her heart sank before common sense took over. He wouldn't have left, not in his underwear. Not when he'd be insistent that she let him in.

Curious, she moved a little more quickly into the family room—and almost tripped over him.

Sprawled on his stomach on the carpet, taking up most of her minuscule floor space, Buck was trying to coerce Tish into coming closer. Butch sat beside him, impatiently watching, whining a little, and barking every now and then.

Her heart almost melted. From the day she'd met Buck, she'd been amazed at his size. He clowned around a lot, and he loved to tease and laugh, but there was no denying his strength. His biceps were so big, even using both hands she wouldn't be able to circle them. His shoulders looked like boulders and his thighs like tree trunks. He could intimidate most anyone just by standing there, and he'd certainly intimidated her.

Yet now he was trying his best to sweet-talk her little bald dog. Such an amazing contradiction.

In silence Sadie tracked the long line of his powerful body, from his rumpled brown hair, down the deep furrow of his spine framed by bulging back muscles, across his tight buttocks, along his thick thighs, his hairy calves and finally to his enormous feet.

He was the biggest man she knew. He was the only man she'd ever seen in his underwear. And he had the gentlest, sweetest voice—

“Want me to roll over so you can check out the other side?”

Sweetness changed to amusement when he addressed her, and Sadie's eyes nearly crossed. She glanced at his face, but he wasn't looking at her. He watched Tish, his lopsided smile giving him an endearing look.

She cleared her throat, summoned up a credible lie and said, “I was just trying to decide if this towel is big enough.”

“Right.”

Time to change the subject, and fast. Sadie coughed. “It's nice that you're trying, but Tish's really shy. She won't come to me willingly, either, and she's especially afraid of men.”

“I'll win her over, eventually.” He winked, then rolled to his feet and stood in front of her, towering, imposing.

Sexy.

When Sadie just stared up at him, he held out a hand. Reflexively, she jumped back, thinking he meant to touch her. One of his eyebrows lifted, and she saw his hand was held out, palm up.

Oh. She gave him the towel. “You can hang your shorts over the back of a chair to dry if you want.”

He smiled, then started for the kitchen. “Sure. Give me one minute—and no peeking.”

As if she would! Well…she might. If she knew she wouldn't be caught.

The dogs followed on his heels, and Sadie found herself alone in the tiny living room. She waited, peeked down the hall, and waited some more.

Incredible. A naked man was now in her kitchen. Her belly pulled tight as she pictured it all too clearly in her mind.

“Coast is clear,” Buck called.

Being the cautious sort and already flushed from her vivid imaginings, Sadie crept in until she saw that he was indeed covered. Phew. What a relief.

Sort of.

Not that his wearing a towel was that much better than his wearing boxers, but it hid more of him, from beneath his navel to just below his knees. Still, he sat in the stiff kitchen chair, thighs open, one long leg stretched out.

She'd always heard that men had no modesty. This pretty much proved it. Right now, if she bent over just a little, she'd be able to see—

“The coffee smells good.”

Sadie met his mocking gaze and had the horrible suspicion he'd read her thoughts. Mortified, she turned her back on him. “You could have helped yourself.” As she said it, she got two mugs down from the cabinet.

“I wouldn't be so presumptuous.”

That had her smiling. He was by far the most outrageous human being she knew, and she doubted he could spell
presumptuous.
She peeked at him. He'd
hung the silly monkey-covered boxers over the back of a chair. The bright yellow in her white kitchen seemed as out of place as Buck himself.

“After saving Tish, I owe you. Especially since I locked you out.”

He shrugged a massive shoulder as big and hard as a boulder. “I should have warned you that the door would lock. My fault.”

Generous, too. And kind. Why had she never noticed these attributes before?

But she knew the answer. She'd been hurting from the loss of her mother and the upheaval of moving from the only home she'd ever known. She hadn't had the emotional strength to let anyone else into her life, especially not a man like Buck—so powerful and strong and…threatening.

At least to her peace of mind.

Besides, she'd known Buck wasn't the type of man to pay her much attention. He was big and sexy and he almost always had a smile on his face. He'd never been lacking female company, either. Sadie often saw him grilling steaks in his backyard with a woman draped around him.

She'd hear them laughing, and be drawn to look, regardless of her own sense of decorum. Buck liked to kiss and tease. He was a toucher, always stroking the women he had around. Not in a sexual way, though she was sure he indulged in plenty of that in private. But anytime he had a woman near, he was
either holding her hand, casually caressing her arm, or running the backs of his fingers across her cheek.

He liked to tickle, too, she'd discovered. More often than not, that game would end up with Buck hoisting the woman into his arms and carrying her inside. Sadie would watch with a sick sense of yearning.

Not that it did her any good to pine after men. For the most part, they ignored her.

Only Buck wasn't ignoring her now.

“I really am grateful,” Sadie told him. “I know we haven't always hit it off.” To cover that halfhearted apology for past transgressions, she set a steaming mug of coffee in front of him and quickly inquired, “Cream or sugar?”

“Neither, thanks.” He sipped, nodded. “Good. Maybe that'll help wake me up.”

Tongue in cheek, Sadie asked, “Hard night?”

“Not in the way I would prefer.” He tipped his head toward Butch, who trailed behind Tish like a caboose on a train. “I'm not used to having the little guy spend the night. My friend, Riley—you've probably seen him at my place before…?”

“With the red-haired woman, yes.” She'd noticed Butch with him, too, of course. Not only was he smaller than most, but a red Chihuahua with black brindling stood out because of the unusual coloring.

“That'd be Regina. Or Red, as Riley calls her.”

Riley was one of Buck's quieter, calmer friends.
He oozed menace and confidence, but also gentle concern, especially with his wife. Still, even he took part in the boisterous laughing when three or more of the men got together.

“Riley's had Butch over plenty of times,” Buck said, “but this is the first time I'm dog-sitting overnight. Butch keeps odd hours, which means I have to keep odd hours, too.”

Sadie turned to the refrigerator to rummage for food. They had two hours together and feeding him would help pass the time.

“If he's the reason you were up so early this morning, I can only be grateful. Otherwise I'd have been dealing with that cicada on my own.” She leaned around the door to see Buck. “And I hate to admit it, but I'm not sure I could have.”

“Don't blame you. Cicadas have to be the nastiest bugs around.”

That he'd agree with her made her feel less ridiculous. “Eggs and bacon okay?”

“Sounds great.”

She heard her delicate little parlor chair creak as Buck settled back. “Now. About what you said…”

“Hmm?” Sadie dug out her frying pan. Cooking for a man would be a unique experience. Her father had walked out when she was young, leaving her mother to raise her alone. As an only child, Sadie had no brothers, and her mother had never remarried. Because her mother's health had always been frail,
she'd never been a big eater. How many eggs would a man like Buck need?

She eyed his enormous form, decided on two, then changed her mind to three.

“About us not always hitting it off.”

She nearly dropped an egg. She didn't want to discuss that, but apparently, she'd have to. She probably shouldn't have said anything, but after his heroic rescue this morning, she felt she owed him an apology.

To keep from looking at him, she began laying bacon in the hot skillet. “I'm sure that was more my fault than yours.”

Buck leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “Well, now, I don't want to rile you, but until today, you have always seemed kind of cold.”

Sadie's back stiffened. “Cold?”

“Unfriendly,” he said by way of explanation. “Standoffish. Maybe a little—”

“I get it.”
She glared at Buck.

He grinned. “Okay. Don't bite my face off.”

Blast.
She turned back to the stove. Her words had been sharper than she'd meant them to be. But just because she hadn't jumped all over him as most women did, he'd labeled her cold? She bit her lip, slapped two more slices of bacon into the pan, and said through her teeth, “Again, I apologize.”

A loud, masculine sigh accompanied the creaking of the chair, and suddenly he was behind her. He didn't say a word, but the sensation of being cornered
had her breath catching in her throat. Heat radiated off his big body, touching her all along her back. And she could smell him again, the delicious smell of warm male.

She couldn't turn to face him.

“I riled you.”

“No.” Sadie denied that with a quick shake of her head.

“I'd like to get to know you better, Sadie.”

Oh, Lord. Her stomach dropped to her feet. She'd imagined this scenario many times, but the reality was a lot more nerve-racking.

His long hard fingers wrapped completely around her wrist, emphasizing the disparity in their sizes. He lifted her arm and his rough thumb coasted over a small scar, then another. “How'd you get these?”

With her heart ramming into her chest wall, speech was nearly impossible. “Dog.” She cleared her throat. “Make that plural. Sometimes the dogs are…nervous with me.”

“You let them bite you?”

“I don't exactly
invite
them to, no. But it happens.” He was being so casual about touching her that she regained some—but not all—of her aplomb. “Most of the dogs I take in have been mistreated, abandoned, starved. Naturally, they don't trust humans, with good reason. Anything can startle them.”