Going back around the house, she resigned herself to the indignity of crawling through the doggy door. Bear was a big dog, so it was a big door and she knew she’d fit. But it was a little ridiculous and she was thankful the only reason she had to do it was because Matt wasn’t home. That meant he couldn’t witness her latest embarrassing episode.
She got on her hands and knees, then used one hand to push open the swinging door. It wasn’t very comfortable and she pushed the flap open all the way so she could focus on not kneeling on the door sill because that would seriously hurt.
A chime sounded, followed by a flurry of barking and dog toenails on the wooden floors.
“Bear, it’s me,” she called, pausing half in and half out of the doggy door as a mountain of black Lab barreled into the kitchen.
DESPITE LESS THAN three hours of sleep, Matt woke in a state of high alert when the dog door chimed. He’d been half-awake for a few minutes already, mumbling at Bear when the dog had let out a woof for no reason. Then the chime sounded and Bear took off at a run.
But if Bear had been in his bed, what had triggered the alarm? Matt usually locked it when they went to bed at night but, in the condition he’d been in, he might have overlooked it last night. Or this morning, rather.
Praying it wasn’t a raccoon, which was the risk they ran in exchange for Bear being able to get out, he pulled his service weapon out of the biometric safe on his nightstand and went after Bear. When he got to the kitchen, he hit the light switch, then shook his head.
“You have to be kidding.” The top half of his neighbor was through the doggy door and Bear was licking her face, his butt wagging in joy. “Bear, cut it out.”
“You’re home,” she said in a flat voice.
He arched an eyebrow at her, then set his gun on the counter and hit the button to start the coffee brewing. “Is that why you’re breaking into my house at six-thirty in the morning? Because you thought I wasn’t home?”
She finished crawling all the way into the kitchen and then quickly stood before Bear could get at her face again. “Yes. If I thought you were home, I wouldn’t have been crawling through the doggy door.”
“Anything in particular you were after?” Maybe she had a drug problem. That would help explain why she ran so hot and cold where he was concerned.
“I wanted to make sure Bear was okay.”
He went a little still inside, not sure he’d understood her. “You broke in to check on my dog?”
“I heard your truck leave yesterday morning and I hadn’t seen it since. I know he can get in and out, but I didn’t know if he’d run out of food and water. And then I thought he’d come get me, but maybe you trained him not to leave the yard at all when you’re not home. Or maybe he got scared and scratched at my door, but it didn’t wake me up, so he went looking for you and got lost.” She stopped, a pink blush spreading over her cheeks. “I wanted to check on him and your doors were locked, so...yeah.”
“I guess you’ve got a Good Samaritan streak, yourself.” Maybe she didn’t know how to bait a hook, but she’d crawl through a small door in sleep shorts to check on an animal. That said something about her. Something he liked.
“I like your dog.”
He nodded, then watched as the dog in question bolted through the dog door. The chime dinged again.
“Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”
“Not really. He’s a good dog, but I like to know where he is. And I usually lock the dog door at night. I must have forgotten since it was about three when I got in.”
Her eyes got big. “Three? Oh, the long weekend, right? It must be busy for you guys.”
“Long weekends always are.”
He pulled two mugs out of the cabinet, though he wasn’t really sure why, and poured them each a mug. “Cream and sugar?”
“I should go, so you can go back to bed. Now I feel even worse.”
“Don’t feel bad for caring about my dog. And he’ll be outside at least twenty minutes. I’m up, so have a coffee with me.”
She looked down at herself, as if she’d just realized she hadn’t put clothes on before breaking into his house. She was covered, with thin cotton shorts that looked like men’s boxers, and a hoodie she’d thrown over her tank top. But, as he looked at her, she zipped the hoodie, covering up the view a little.
He ran his hand over his naked chest. “I guess it’s a good thing I put sweatpants on before I fell into bed.”
The corner of her mouth quirked upward. “I guess that depends on your point of view.”
“Are you flirting with me?” Even as early as it was, being ogled by a pretty woman wasn’t a bad way to start the day.
“I can be a bit shameless when it comes to coffee. Sorry.”
He gestured to one of the stools at the island. “Have a seat. So, cream and sugar?”
“Yes, please.”
He got the half and half out of the fridge. “For future reference, Bear’s food is in that blue bin over there. It’s just a lift-top lid. He stays out of it as a rule, but if he gets hungry enough, he can get into it. And he’s got that big tank of water there that feeds into his dish but, as gross as it sounds, I always make sure the toilet lid’s up. Just in case.”
“I feel better knowing that.”
“If something happens to me that’s bad enough so they call my parents, somebody will come get Bear. But if you’re willing to break into my house, are you also willing to give me your number so I can call you if I can’t get home? Just because he won’t starve doesn’t mean I like him being alone overnight. And I’ll give you the extra key so you don’t have to crawl through the doggy door.”
“Funny, but yes. We should have each other’s numbers anyway. Being neighbors and all.”
“Speaking of being neighborly,” he said, setting her coffee in front of her and grinning, “any chance I can sweet talk you into giving me a ride to my truck later? If not, I can try Drew Miller.”
“Your chances of sweet talking Drew are pretty slim.” She smiled, then took a sip of her coffee.
“I bet you’re not too susceptible to sweet talk, either.”
“Not usually, but when a guy with no shirt on makes me coffee, it softens me up.”
He put the cream back in the fridge and then went to the back door to check on Bear. As expected, the dog was sniffing every blade of grass to make sure nothing had changed during the night.
On his way back to the island, he watched Hailey lower her head to drink her coffee and his body tightened. Her hair was pulled to one side, exposing her neck, and he remembered her shivering when he touched her there and how she fought so hard to hide it.
He shouldn’t touch her. He knew it. Not while he was overtired and feeling soft toward her because she tried to take care of his dog. Not while she was wearing barely anything. But as he crossed the kitchen, he couldn’t help himself.
“That bug bite healed nicely,” he said, and he ran his fingertip lightly down the line of her neck.
TEN
HAILEY SUCKED IN a breath and she knew there was no way she could hide the hot flush that felt as though it was covering every inch of her body.
“You are the master of mixed signals,” she said, deciding if she couldn’t hide her reaction, she might as well face it head on.
He walked back around the island, which in a way was worse because now he could see the blush on her cheeks. “What do you mean?”
“The night I brought you shepherd’s pie, you thought I was flirting with you and you practically ran into the house. But then you go and do that.”
“First aid is part of my job description. Just doing my duty, ma’am.”
She laughed at him. “You’re so full of crap.”
“Maybe.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “You’re not exactly consistent with the signals, either, you know.”
He might have a point there, so she kept her mouth shut and drank her coffee until a way to change the subject popped into her head. “What made you become a game warden? I’m guessing it wasn’t the promise of nine to five.”
“Nine to five. That’s funny.” He took a sip of his coffee, then shrugged. “I love being outside and always spent every minute I could in the woods. I love animals. I always wanted to be a police officer. It sounds trite, but I think I was born to be a game warden.”
“It must be hard, sometimes. The hours and not knowing what’s going to happen each day. I mean, barring something huge happening, I can tell you what my schedule will be three years from now. And usually a broken binding or a paperback that reeks of cigarette smoke or—God help me—cat pee is my biggest emergency.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Cat pee should be a chemical weapon.”
“Tell me about it. And the book was in the night drop.” She laughed at the face he made. “Yeah, it was like that. But we’re talking about you, not me.”
“The hours don’t really bother me unless they affect Bear. Obviously you know that’s occasionally a problem, but I’ve always had a good support system. It’s been hard on relationships in the past, though.”
“A friend of mine from college is married to a police officer in Boston. It’s hard on her, but she believes in what he does and tries to support him.”