“Easy, sweetie. Sit,” she reinforced the command with a gentle nudge to his doggie backside. When he sat, she praised him.
“All right. I’ll feed you first and then put on the water for the pasta.” Keeping up a dialogue with Jamie the entire time he ate as she sliced veggies and prepared a salad, she was surprised when she heard the slam of a car door.
“Jack’s home!” She marveled that she felt as excited by the prospect as Jamie. Easing back, she let Jamie greet Jack first. “Are you going to yell at him for chewing the table?” she asked as he walked through the door.
“I could, but it wouldn’t do much good, seeing as it was hours ago.” He bent down to pet Jamie and Caitlin couldn’t help but notice the way his jeans hugged his taut backside. Since he was preoccupied with the dog, she fanned herself without worrying that he might see.
He braced his hands on the floor to stand, and Cait wondered if it was because he was tired and his leg was bothering him again. She couldn’t help but notice and be impressed by the amount of muscle in Jack’s back and torso. Mrs. Sweeney had told Peggy that the good doctor was definitely hiding his light under a bushel wearing that white lab coat, and of course Peggy had shared that tidbit with Cait.
The timer rang and she drained the pasta. “How was your day?”
Jack opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. “Busy, productive. Yours?” He handed her a glass of red wine. “It’s my favorite merlot. I hope you like it.”
After she took a sip, she said, “It’s lovely.”
Jamie chose that moment to shove his way in between them and jump up on Jack. Jack corrected the dog and then began to stroke his back, sending the puppy into doggie ecstasy. “Good boy, I know you missed us.” With a look of longing at his untouched glass of wine, he sighed. “How about if we go toss the ball a few times?”
“Dinner’s ready,” Caitlin said. “But it can wait a little bit. It’ll still taste good cold.”
Jack paused in the doorway, a hand braced above him as his gaze locked with hers. Heat shot through her at the desire in his eyes. But then he blinked and the look was gone, leaving her to wonder if it was wishful thinking. That almost-kiss was amping up the anticipation and driving her nuts.
“That sounds wonderful. Thanks for going to the trouble of making dinner.”
“Mmm.”
He held out his hand. “Come on outside and play with us.”
As she took his hand, her grip must have been a bit desperate; he looked down at their clasped hands and then into her eyes. “Tough day?”
She shrugged. “Parts of it.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
He nodded. “Can you stay with Jamie for a minute? I need to find a tennis ball.”
A few moments later, he emerged from the garage with his hand in the air. “OK, boy!” He wound up like an all-star pitcher and threw the ball. Jamie gave chase and Caitlin smiled at the two of them.
A half a dozen tosses later, Jamie’s tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth and he was panting. “Water break,” she called out.
Both males looked at her as if she were crazy, but then Jack must have had second thoughts. “Let’s go.” Jamie followed him into the house.
“I just need to wash my hands.”
Since he seemed to be waiting for her to agree, she nodded and turned to fix their plates and then stopped. “Just a minute,” she said. “I left the bread in the car. Be right back.”
He was setting the kitchen table when she walked back in and set the bag on the counter. “Fresh-baked Italian bread.”
He handed her a cutting board and bread knife. The microwave dinged and he smiled. “I thought your meal deserved to be warmed up, especially since parts of your day didn’t go as well as mine.”
Touched because he’d taken the time to think of her, she returned his smile.
“Thanks.” She set the bread on the table and watched the way he moved about the kitchen, deftly removing one plate of pasta and inserting another and then topping off her wine. “You certainly know your way around the kitchen.”
“I’ve had lots of practice living on my own, and my mom thought I should learn to cook at an early age.”
“I learned through trial and error. Meg never had the time to learn to cook. She was too busy watching us, keeping up with schoolwork—”
“And working with your dad. I remember how worried she was that she’d do or say the wrong thing and you and Gracie would end up scarred for life.” The microwave interrupted what he was going to say. Once he had removed the plate and set it on the table, he held out his hand to Caitlin.