Page 5 of Seaside Cowboy's Marriage of Convenience

Caramel growled in response from the back, probably because she didn’t like being kept away from things she had a duty to explore.

He pulled up outside Kennedy’s place, which, so help him, looked more like a refrigerator than a cozy house. The flat-roofed place offered two stories cast in the unbroken geometric lines of a rectangle where floor-to-ceiling windows glistened like ice. When it was built, Port Sunshine had gossiped about the bold avant-garde architecture. They still spoke of it and the designer, but Austin just couldn’t see it.

Shaking his head, he plucked Caramel from the truck and snapped on her leash, which earned him a soulful reprimand from her puppy-dog eyes. Then, with the peace offerings gripped in his other hand, he started up the walk to the refrigerator—ahem, house.

In the time it took for Kennedy to open the door, he nearly turned around and left. But the thought of giving up on seeing her hurt too much. Plus, the door camera must’ve recorded his presence.

In a knee-length, sleeveless white dress, she looked simple and chic. But the belt, while likely fashionable, consisted of large metal rings that reminded him of some crude chain used to tie up a poor dog in some movie and gave him the urge to help her break free. Her signature silver bracelets clanked as she reached to push back the long blonde hair that hugged her bare shoulders and swished down her back. The dress looked too expensive to wear at home, but then, she lived a thousand scales higher than he did.

His heart received the jolt it always got in her presence.

With so many great women in town, why did he have to be attracted to someone so far out of his league?

“Hello, Austin.” Her gray eyes warmed as she smiled. But then, she grimaced and moved back.

Uh-oh. She wasn’t glad to see him. His heart dropped and rolled over her marble tile as she rearranged her features into a neutral expression. She hesitated but then waved for him to walk inside.

Maybe it was the refrigerator house that made her look so icy and aloof. He was half afraid to enter it. But he and Caramel did while Caramel gave her own greeting. He kept her on the leash because the puppy jerked forward to explore the new place. But too much glass and metal—metal tables with glass tops and long mirrors with metal frames—made him feel he had indeed stepped inside a refrigerator and was about to be chilled on a glass shelf.

In keeping with those thoughts, everything was black, gray, or white, and only the succulents offering their salad greens seemed to break that up. Even the oil paintings depicting weird spheres and squares and the geometric figures on the rugs remained colorless.

Did peoplelikethings like this? Give him the ranch house or his kitschy vet clinic with bright pet murals any day.

Time to focus. He cleared his throat.

“I wanted to apologize for ruining your dress. I’m very sorry.” He lifted the flowers and chocolates. “These are for you. Well, these are. The puppy isn’t a gift, though,” he added to avoid any confusion. He admired Kennedy, but he loved Caramel too much already to give her away.

“Thank you. But you don’t need to apologize. The dress wasn’t ruined. I had it dry-cleaned, and it looks fine now. By the way, your pet is adorable.”

Caramel preened, eager to confirm she was, indeed, adorable, though she’d most likely expected the compliment. Kennedy leaned to pet the puppy but didn’t move forward to accept his gifts. On the contrary, she stepped back as if to put distance between them. Maybe in her world people apologized with diamonds.

What did he know?

Her face took on that awkward expression when one wanted to say something unpleasant but didn’t know how to say it. She scrunched her cute nose, and her eyes started watering.

Oh no. “Regardless, I wanted to apologize.” And there were many other things he wanted to say, like asking her out. Breathing became difficult, and he loosened his tie.

Some noise like a cup placed on the table reached him from what must be a dining room. Huh. There were men’s shoes in the hall. Fancy, shiny ones. Was that the faint scent of cologne?

The brisket sandwich soured in his stomach. She wasn’t alone. Of course not. She had a guest. A guy.

He retreated as heat tingled up his neck. His cheeks must match his hibiscuses by now. Of course, a woman like her had suitors. Most likely, lots of them. He should’ve called first. Or just sent the gifts with an apology note. “You’re with someone.” Did that sound rude?

She glanced back, unmistakable love softening her features. “Yes.”

“I’ll be going then.” He handed her the chocolates and bouquet.

“About that.” She stepped back and sneezed into her elbow. “I happen to...” She sneezed again. “The thing is...” And again.

That looked like an allergic reaction, and he’d brought in the allergen. Caramel crouched back, cocking her head and blinking big puzzled eyes. She’d never been sneezed at yet.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” He placed his peace offering on the antique side table and scooped up Caramel, who looked at him innocently.

“No!” Kennedy sneezed again, contradicting her answer.

“Darling, why don’t you invite your guest here?” A deep male voice rumbled from inside the house.

The endearment sliced at Austin. Plus, he’d made things worse between him and Kennedy. Seemed he had a talent for it.

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