Page 41 of Say Yes

“Oh, no, you don’t. I was asleep, woman, and you—”

“You said I could touch you! But every single time I bumped you during the night you turned into a sex-crazed maniac!”

His fatigue miraculously disappeared while he watched the water sluice down her naked body. He picked up the soap and idly began working up a lather. “You have a way of bumping that sets a man off.”

“Everything sets you off!”

“Well, what did you expect? I’d been deprived for too long. If you hadn’t been so insistent on waiting…”

“Me!”

“Hush. Let me wash your back.”

His hands went around her, then settled on her slick, wet skin. They smoothed over her shoulders, down the length of her spine, then lower. Sara said, “Gavin! That is not my back.”

“That’s okay.” He kissed her throat, licking off a drop of water. “I dropped the soap anyway.”

“Gavin…” Her voice dwindled to a throaty, demanding moan.

Twenty minutes later, they were both running late. Gavin finished dressing first, and he stopped on his way out the door to kiss Sara goodbye. She sat at the kitchen table, only half-dressed, still nursing a cup of coffee, and she barely managed a pucker.

He chuckled to himself as he headed for the office. He had papers to pick up, a few phone calls to make, he needed to meet the finishers at a house in less than an hour. His knees were shaky, his eyes burned from not enough sleep, and his heart felt full to bursting.

At this rate, Sara would cripple him within a week. But it was a week he anticipated with a good deal of excitement.

* * *

SHE WAS LATE, more than an hour and a half. Gavin was probably furious, since he had expected her home by six. Still, she sat in the car a few minutes longer, not opening the door, not looking at the house.

She heard the pitiful whining in the back seat and winced. Three pets was two more than Gavin had agreed to. Not that she felt she had to gain his permission for every little thing…but then, this wasn’t a little thing. This was a very big thing. A very big, furry thing. With problems. But what else could she have done?

Sara saw the front door open, and then Gavin filled it. It was his habit to greet her at the front door each night after work, and she realized she’d already gotten used to it. He looked so good standing there, his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed in concern. He’d been worried about her? She hadn’t considered that possibility. No one had worried about her in a very long time. He started down the steps, so she quickly came out of the car and met him on the sidewalk. She wrung her hands, trying to order her thoughts.

“Sara? What is it, what’s the matter? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

His tone was sharp, a mixture of annoyance and worry. It was the first time he’d lost his temper with her since the day she’d brought home Tripod. She opened her mouth, ready to launch into her well-rehearsed explanations, and instead, she burst into tears. She was horrified by her own actions, but it had been such a horrendous afternoon.

Gavin grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “What the hell is the matter? Are you hurt? What happened?”

She shook her head, hiccuped, then tried again. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had to go by the shelter, and…Gavin, I have to tell you something.”

He seemed to relax all at once. He pulled her close against his chest, and she didn’t want to admit, even to herself, how wonderfully safe it felt. “Shh. Calm down, babe. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

Then the sound of the sad, mournful whining reached their ears. Gavin froze for several heartbeats, then with a resigned sigh, he looked over her head to the car. Holding her shoulders, he pushed her back a ways to see her face. Sara bit her lip, knowing she looked guilty as sin, knowing she looked upset, but dammit all, there was nothing else she could have done. Gavin moved around her. Sara started talking ninety miles a minute. The problem was, she only had a fifty-mile-a-minute tongue, so most of what she said was garbled and nonsensical.

“It was the most terrible thing. Tragic. Just tragic. And so sad. You see, the old man died, and then the woman—his wife—just couldn’t bear to go on without him, and she went into a decline. She’s well over eighty, and she couldn’t take care of herself, much less a dog. The family has its hands full looking after her, and the dog was simply wasting away. She misses everyone so much, and she’s so unhappy. God, Gavin, I’ve never seen a more unhappy creature, and…”

Sara’s explanation came to a screeching halt. Gavin opened the rear car door, shook his head, then began talking so softly, so calmly to the dog. When he lifted the collie out, holding her weight easily in his arms and started toward the house, Sara was speechless. She trotted after him.

“What are you doing?”

Gavin never slowed his pace. He crooned to the dog, but he turned his head enough to say, “She’s upset. I’m taking her inside.” The dog looked up at him, and Gavin asked, “What’s her name?”

“Maggie.”

He said the name, softly, slowly, making it sound like a compliment, and the dog stared at him as if captivated. Sara stepped through the doorway, holding the door for Gavin, and Satan and Tripod walked to her with rapt looks of curiosity. She took a brief moment to pat the animals, then rushed after Gavin. He took the dog to the kitchen and sat her on the floor by the sink, in the spot where the late-day sun coming through the window made a warm, golden pool on the tile.

Gavin knelt in front of Maggie, rubbing her laid-back ears. Maggie curled into a small semicircle, her entire countenance one of wary disbelief. “What’s the matter, old girl? This is all pretty new, isn’t it? But you’re okay here.”

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