Page 5 of Downward Dawg
“Church?” Since he didn’t look like he’d be stopping his forward momentum anytime soon, she stepped graciously to the side and with a grin and a sweep of her hand, gestured towards the interior of the house. Her invitation was belated, and heavily laced with sarcasm when she told him, “Please, come on in.”
“Thanks.” His head swiveled from side to side, apparently taking in everything. “A meeting. Club meeting.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Elodie realized she was still in the open door and slowly closed it, letting the catch slip into place silently. Chicken was still plastered to the back of her calves, but he’d finally stopped making noise. “Oh, church is a meeting. A biker kind of meeting. I think I knew that. Sorry, I’m still stuck on why you’re here if nothing’s wrong at the shop.”
He glanced at her, and as always, the weight of his gaze was like a physical touch. Having his full focus was heady, and Elodie fought to hide her pleasure. “Nothing’s wrong, exactly. But there were a couple of men in my store today I didn’t know, and it looked like they were casing the place. Nothing for you to worry about, but I thought you should know.” His face hardened. “Being a good neighbor, you know?”
“Oh, pressing news. Yes. But I’m thinking you could have told me this tomorrow when you opened up.” She glanced at the TV, screen still frozen where she’d paused it.
“I could have. But I wanted to see you.” He said this like it made sense, and really it should. The way his eyes stayed fixed on her lent his words gravity, and she remembered their flirty exchange from earlier today.
Warning first, then seeing me could be a bonus side quest, maybe? Could be he lives nearby, even.It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he’d wanted to give her the message tonight, knowing she’d be at the shop early, in the dark and alone. The thought of him caring was kind of endearing, honestly.
There is one more possibility.She might have read things wrong with him.Maybeweweren’t flirting, just me.
“Oh. If it’s about today and me interrupting your business, I can apologize.”
“None needed.” He shifted on his feet as he stayed facing her, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. “I enjoyed every bit of your company. Always do. Thing is, I rarely get a chance to really talk to you. Most of what we do is just hello, goodbye, you know?” His shoulders reached up towards his ears in a shrug that somehow looked adorably shy. The movement made her want to reassure him he hadn’t overstepped. “So, I kinda thought I’d make the opportunity.”
Elodie stared at him for a moment, running their various interactions through her mind. She let her awareness focus back on how he made her feel and the vibes he put off. With a sense of happiness, she realized that every time she was around him, she felt lighter for the encounter.We vibe.They resonated in a good way. There was also that frisson of lust, and the way her emotions had moved straight from “he’s attractive” to “boy, I bet he’d be good in the sack.”
She smiled at him, letting her pleasure show in her expression, decision made.He’s not a threat to me.
“Chicken and I were watching a fluff romance and eating bad-for-us snacks.” She gestured to the couch. “I can share the blanket, but you’ll have to find your own stuff to snack on. It’s enough of a trial to have to share with the doggo.” She bent at the waist and unwound the towel from her hair, ruffling through the strands with her fingers for a moment before standing back upright. Flinging her still-damp locks over her shoulder, she shrugged at him. “Right, Chicken?”
With the repetition of his name, Chicken came around her and planted himself midway between the two of them. He plopped his ass to the ground, then twisted around to lick where his balls used to be. Elodie smiled wider.
“Oh, Chickie likes you. That move means he’s comfortable.”
“You named your dog Chicken? Seems counterintuitive. Dogs eat chicken.” Mad Dawg shrugged his jacket off, and sure enough, hidden underneath was another one of those super-soft-looking shirts that molded to his muscles, emphasizing every lickable nook and crevice of his hard frame. He looked around and headed towards the front of the house. “One of my brothers has a dog named Dog, though, so it’s more inventive than that at least.” Jacket hung on a hook near the door, Mad Dawg turned and walked back to her. “Point me to the kitchen?”
“Through there.” She tipped her head the direction and stayed where she was to watch him walk away.
“You’re lookin’ at my ass, aren’t you?” His voice carried amusement, and he glanced over his shoulder, eyes twinkling with humor as he caught her in mid ogle.
“You do it too,” she defended, feeling a blush climb up from her chest.
“Well, you’ve got a mighty fine ass.” He disappeared and she heard the clink as the fridge opened. A pause, then another clink as the door closed. He reappeared with a beer in hand, and she realized she was still standing in the exact same spot.
“So do you,” she blurted before clapping a hand over her mouth. Rolling her eyes, she sprinted to the couch and contemplated vaulting over the back, but had a flash image of headwounds or broken bones, so instead slipped into place over the arm, bouncing on the springs as she gathered the blanket to cover her legs. Mad Dawg’s presence in her space had her flustered, but any sense of unease had faded as they’d bantered back and forth. Through the months she’d come to know him, each interaction between them had fleshed out an initial impression of a good man, and right now she felt strongly any danger inside him would never be aimed at her. His protective instincts with her earlier today hadn’t escaped her attention, and knowing he’d felt some kind of way about those customers looking at her gave her courage.
“You promised to share that,” he reminded her, taking a position on the couch not too far away. His tone turned amused when he asked, “You’re not a scammer, are you? I’d hate to think I was friends with someone like that.”
“No. Of course I’m not. I’m not like that. I do yoga. People like me aren’t scammers. The nerve!” She playfully flipped a corner of the blanket his direction. “There.”
He latched onto it and gave a tug, grinning as it rocked her closer to him. “I’m thinkin’ sharin’ means more than two paltry inches.”
“Okay.” She released her hold with a laugh. “You’re right. Plus, I always keep my promises.”
“Always?” His question came from beside her ear, and Elodie’s breath hitched as he leaned close and spread the blanket over them both, reaching across to tuck it in on her other side. The intimate action made her skin buzz with anticipation of a real touch.He’s right here, just where I imagined him so many times.“That’s good to know. So, tell me, where does the dog named Chicken sit?”
“He’s under the blanket already.” She pulled in a slow, calming breath and pulled down an edge to show him. “He’s sneaky.”
“I’ll say.” Mad Dawg chuckled, the sound resonating within her chest. Every single thing this man did or said made her more aware of her attraction to him. “With a name like that, it’s gotta have a story to go along with it, right? You gotta tell me. How’d Chicken get his name?”
“Well, his full name is Chicken Winston Nugget, after the first thing he stole from meandthe first book he chewed up. You can guess the first, but the second was a first edition biography of Winston Churchill. At the time I thought of calling him Churches, as in Chicken Churches Nugget, but not everybody knows that’s a chicken place. And the nuggets were a big deal. After waiting a week for his stray hold to expire, I’d just picked him up from the shelter and the first thing we did was get him a pup-latte and fries. The nuggies were supposed to be for me. Well, by the time we got to the end of the drive-thru, he’d plowed through the whipped cream, taters, and then moved on to the good stuff.” She fondled his ears gently, ruffling the bouncy, curly topknot. “I figure he must have been food deprived at one point, so I couldn’t be mad at him.” Looking up at Mad Dawg, she felt her features soften in response to the tender expression on his face. “Anyway, Chicken Nugget seemed like a good name. Then he ate Winston, so I added that.”
“You’re a complicated woman, Elodie. Layers and layers. Lots to get to know.” He reached out and traced a fingertip around the shell of her ear. “I don’t hate that about you.”
