Page 3 of Gideon's Gratitude

“Seriously, Lucky, I’ve had just about—”

Through the ruckus, I heard it. A tentative knocking on my door. Quiet, but clearly audible. “Lucky, go sit on your rug.”

The dog, who’d been inches away from the door, gave me a very long look before finally tossing his snout in the air and heading over to his spot on the rug in front of the fireplace. His eyes narrowed as he looked seriously displeased.

Oh well, nothing to be done about it now.

I swung the door open because I had no peephole and honestly, if the person on the other side was a serial killer, I wasn’t sure I cared all that much.

Not sure what I expected, but a bedraggled and gorgeous man on the other side wasn’t it. The guy I’d surreptitiously spotted earlier. Serial killer or not, the dude needed to get out of the storm. Another bolt of lightning shot across the sky, and in a nanosecond, the thunder boomed, resonating in my chest, and forcing my unwelcome guest to wince.

Opening the door farther, I beckoned the stranger into the house.

The man glanced around warily, finally settling on the dog who hadn’t done as instructed.

I glared, but Lucky gave me awhat are you going to do about itglance before returning his attention to the newcomer.

“He’s harmless. Please, come in.”

Finally, at length, the stranger stepped across the threshold.

Even as I was closing the door, Lucky barged over and sniffed the man’s pant legs.

“Uh…”

“Hold out your hand, palm up, and let him sniff you.”

The soaked man obeyed, and Lucky sniffed. After a long moment, he licked the man’s palm.

The guy immediately wiped his hands on his waterlogged jacket.

“Sorry. It’s just that…huh.” I eyed my dog, whose tail continued to wag. “It’s just that Lucky’s reticent around strangers.”

“Seems fine with me.” The guy wiped his face. “Sorry to ask, but do you happen to have a towel?”

The question pushed me out of my trance. The man was handsome, no two ways about it. “Yeah, I’ll grab a towel.” I pointed to the coat tree. “Why don’t you hang up your coat?”

“I don’t want to impose.” Gruff. Like a man who didn’t like requesting help for anything.

I’d once been such a man. No longer, though. “No imposition. Truly.” I clicked my tongue and headed toward the mudroom.

Lucky didn’t follow.

Argue with the dog, or leave him be?Lucky’d never been vicious. Just hesitant. Totally understandable, given his circumstances, but I’d never seen him warm to someone so quickly before. Usually it took hours—if it even happened at all. Deciding my dog and the newcomer would be okay, I headed to the mudroom where a pile of towels sat in the cupboard. With Lucky’s continual desire to come home covered in mud, I’d learned to keep everything stocked.

I returned to find Lucky curled up on his bed in front of the fire while the man still stood on the front mat. I flipped on the fireplace, then I moved to the guy and handed him a towel. “I’m Gideon Rodgers.”

The guy took the towel and rubbed his face.

When he moved to dry his hair, I got a good look. Dark-gray eyes that shone in the firelight. A touch over six feet tall, much like my ex—.

Don’t go there.

The hair was too wet to discern, but I guessed dark blond.

“Archer Chamberlain.” The newcomer dried his hand and held it out.

I shook his hand. Cold, wet, and clammy.

---