"Talking to yourself?" Ridge's smooth voice asked.
Kaia jumped up. Embarrassed to be caught chatting up his dead relative, her right eye gave a nervous tic. At the sight of him, her defenses fell away.
He looked worn-out. Eyes red-rimmed, hair mussed, shoulders tensed from burning the candle at both ends. Her plans changed on the spot, and it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms and cover his face in health-giving kisses.
"Hey," she said breathlessly.
"Hey yourself, beautiful." He gave up a smile for her, but it was as tired as his eyes. "What's up?"
"You've been working too hard. You should get away from the house, the desk, and your phone, and out of your own head. I'm kidnapping you."
"Kidnapping me, huh?" His eyes twinkled as he came closer as if just getting nearer to her increased his energy. "You think you're tough enough for that?"
"Just because I'm small doesn't mean I can't be persuasive." She crooked a finger, gave him a smile she hoped was beguiling.
"Amen to that," he said.
"C'mon."
"Where we going?"
"Do you trust me?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, but I like to be prepared."
"Are you always this suspicious?"
"Not suspicious, just need to know where I stand."
"Do you ever let go and let things unfold naturally?"
"Not much."
"Control freak."
"Guilty as charged. Not ashamed of it."
"I need you," she said in a throaty voice, and held out her hand.
"Well, why didn't you lead with that?" His knowing grin detonated a joy bomb inside her. "Just let me get my hat and sunglasses."
He looked so happy she didn't have the heart to tell him they would be playing with dogs today instead of each other.
"This wasn't quite what I had in mind when you said you needed me," Ridge groused good-naturedly as he gazed at his surroundings.
Dogs of all shapes and sizes were everywhere. In kennels, on leashes, running around the dog park behind the animal shelter where they were standing. The volunteers wore bright yellow T-shirts with the name of the shelter emblazoned across the back and were working in teams of two, manning the "canine care" stations.
"I know." Kaia gave him a saucy smile and thrust an extra-large T-shirt at him. "But I'll make it up to you later."
"Promises, promises," he teased.
"Grab a brush." She nodded at the pile of brushes on a folding table beside the numerous metal tubs filled with soapy water. "We've got a lot of dogs to bathe."
They were positioned at the last station.
Amidst the endless barking, they wrangled dog after dog, bathing, brushing, clipping. Ridge did the heavy lifting. As a vet tech, Kaia was in charge of the medical stuff-giving shots, checking vital signs, examining ears and eyes, paws and mouths.
The dogs squirmed and wriggled, licked and whined.
Ridge didn't mind working hard and, growing up on the ranch, he'd certainly taken care of his share of critters, but he couldn't recall the last time he'd been drafted for dog grooming. The noise was deafening and he smelled of wet dog, and yet he didn't mind one bit. He was spending the day with Kaia.
He tried not to think too much about what that meant. Or what was going to happen between them once Duke was home and he was off to China for six months.
The standard poodle he had in the bathtub picked that moment to shake like a cement mixer, dousing him from head to toe. Ridge wiped excess water from his eyes with both hands, sputtered.
The alert poodle saw his opportunity, leaped from the tub, and went running around the enclosure.
Kaia burst out laughing. "Give Dagger an inch and he'll take a mile."
"I'm soaked to the skin."
She grinned, obviously unconcerned that she was responsible for the soaking of the CEO of Lock Ridge Enterprises.
"Oh poor baby, I'm so sorry," she said, sounding gleefully unapologetic. She was enjoying this. "Luckily, you're in the desert. You'll be dry in seconds."
"What does a man have to do to get some sympathy around here?"
"There are paper towels over there." She waved vaguely in the direction of some oversized plastic containers. Her attention was on the sheltie she was brushing with a FURminator. "But corral Dagger first."
To heck with the paper towels. She was right. With the heat of the arid sun, he'd be dry in no time.
Dagger had made himself small and crawled under the metal shelving holding dog grooming supplies. Ridge got down on his hands and knees, lowered his head to the ground, peered underneath the shelving at the quivering poodle. "Here doggy, doggy."