With a nod, Ranger said, “Well. It’s past our bedtime. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around real soon.”
Another series of honks echoed behind them as they cruised down the slight hill town hall sat on toward the main road.
I turned back toward Beckett. I wanted to know what was happening behind those eyes before Ranger had interrupted. I wanted to talk to him and know him because I was grudgingly becoming aware that he wasn’t the same person I’d attached to my iceberg. I also wanted to rip his clothes off and do filthy, unspeakable things to him until I lost the power of speech and required intravenous fluids to recover.
However.
Rushing into things, given all of our entanglements, would only make it more difficult in the end. And, even if I tried, there was no forgetting how much of a disaster I was with intimacy and sex and relationships of the non-platonic variety.
“I need to get home. The dogs, they’ve been alone most of the day. I stopped in to feed them before coming here but they’re trained to work and they’ll give themselves jobs like moving furniture around or gnawing a table leg if they get bored. I need to take them on a walk and throw the ball around the backyard for a bit.”
He gave my ass one last squeeze and set me on my feet. “I can throw the ball for them.”
“I’m sure you can,” I said. “Isn’t that another one of your gifts? A ridiculously reliable arm?”
His lips quirked up. His eyes crinkled. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was tickled pink. But Beckett Loew did not tickle to the point of pink. If anything, he tickled to the point of a stern growl—and now that I thought it over, I couldn’t find any issue with that.
“Who told you that?” he asked.
“You know, around.” I gave an impatient flap of my arms. He’d understand what I meant. That it was better for everyone if we didn’t mention Lance when we were still breathing heavily from almost ripping off each other’s clothes. And also from getting caught by Friendship’s militant mother hen.
“So, what are my other gifts?”
“Oh, would you shut up?”
“I’m just wondering about all these gifts,” he said, his grin as wide as a whole mountain range. “You brought it up.”
“You’re not coming over to play catch with my dogs.”
“But your dogs like me.”
“That’s debatable.” I reached for my bag. “They’re required to be agreeable. I can’t go out in the world with mercurial dogs.”
“Sure, but they like me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at my skirt, a scowl pulling at his lips. “You walk them at night? In the dark?”
“Yeah, I have a flashlight. A headlamp too but it’s pretty dorky.”
He rocked back on his heels. “And you walk alone?”
“No,” I said slowly. “I walk with two highly intelligent, highly protective dogs.”
“I’m going on this walk with you.” He said this in the same imperialistic tone he used when telling me that my flowerpots were on his property. Unfortunately for everyone, I didn’t hate that tone nearly as much as I used to. It was amusing now, like a crusty old quirk I’d grown to love and tolerate. “Even with a flashlight and dogs, I don’t like the idea of you out on the streets at this hour.”
“No, you’re not coming with me,” I said with a smile. “But it’s nice of you to try.” I ran my hand down his arm before backing away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Beck. Be good.”
A minute passed before he called, “Where the hell are you going?”
Over my shoulder, I shouted, “Bike rack.”
Behind me, I heard a growl-sigh and “For fuck’s sake, Sunny.”
I had my helmet clipped on and my bag stowed when he pulled up to the curb in his SUV.
“Dare I ask why the fuck you’re riding a bike? At night?”
I backed the bike out of its slot and climbed on. “Because I don’t like driving at night. Headlights can be a lot for me.”
“You drove last night,” he said, like that would crack my argument right down the middle.
