Last night she hadn’t noticed that there was no television in this room.Just the sofa, the fireplace, a desk against one wall—alarmingly neat, of course—and books.Lots and lots of books on shelves built into the walls, stacked neatly on his coffee table, and tucked into other shelves that were also side tables with matching lamps.
Suggesting that when she’d come here last night, Tennessee might have been hanging around his living room, reading.
Matilda literally couldn’t think of anything hotter.
He came back in from the kitchen, holding two bottles of beer.He sat on the couch beside her and placed one on the coffee table in front of her.He held onto his own as he settled back against the cushions.
“You read a lot,” she said.
And then, possibly for the first time in her entire life, she felt something likeembarrassed.Anyway, she assumed that was what this feeling was.
Because she felt… silly.
She understood that was because that wasn’t what she’dwantedto say, it was what she thought sheshouldsay, for some reason.And it was a remarkably dumb thing to say, because she was sitting here in a room filled with books.Books that looked well-read at even a casual glance.
“I do read a lot,” Tennessee said.And then, happily, he did not wait for her to say something else humiliating.He continued on.“Tell me more about this idea of yours.I thought you already basically had a shelter or rescue or whatever behind your house.Maybeinyour house, now, since you have it to yourself.”
“Bold of you to assume that I don’t have a steady stream of lovers at my beck and call who require the house free of animals,” she tossed back at him without really thinking it through.
Though even if she had thought it through, what she wouldn’t have expected was his reaction.
He looked… stricken, for a moment.She was sure of it.That was the only word to describe it.
Then he looked away.“Considering the quality of men in the area, I would factor that into thecollecting strayspart of your operation.”
She laughed, surprising herself.Maybe him, too.She was sure she saw his mouth curve.“Well.Fair.”
No one had really asked her about this before.People made comments about hercollectionall the time, but that wasn’t the same thing.Usually they were making fun of her in one way or another, which she quite happily had never cared much about.Let them.But he’d actually asked her to tell him more.Instead of telling her he wasn’t interested, the way she’d half expected he would do.
So she swiveled around so she could face him, pulling one leg up onto the couch between them.
Matilda picked up the beer he’d brought for her and took a pull.“There are always animals who need help and I think having a more centralized location to bring those animals into could be a benefit to the community.”
She might not have come here to make this pitch, but she meant it.
“I don’t disagree,” Tennessee said.“Especially if it keeps me from having to babysit a surprise litter.”But he didn’t say that the way he had before.There was still that curve to his lips, and something a whole lot less grim about his eyes.“No matter how cute they might have been.”
“They were cute,” Matilda agreed.“And they already have homes, which makes them even cuter.”She studied him, thinking about the people she’d seen him with and how strange that was on a random February evening.Particularly when she hadn’t heard of any reason the Lisles would be entertaining at this time of year.Usually, if folks had visitors in town, everyone knew it.She smiled, hoping that would make her seem less nosy.“You should have told me you had company in town.I might have let you off the hook with those puppies.”
“Company?”Tennessee blinked.“Oh, you mean the dinner tonight?”
Matilda had grown up in a family of many ruffians, so she knew a thing or two about telling lies.And how one of the easiest tells was overexplaining.So she didn’t.She simplyexuded the possibilitythat she might have returned to Mountain Mama Pizza to, for example, pick up a stray mitten she might very well have dropped outside.That was certainly within the realm of possibility.
There was no need to explain that she’d gone and peered in the window purely to see what he was doing.
He nodded as if the vision in her head made it through to him intact.“Here’s a story for you.You know Helena Patrick, right?She’s the one responsible for the coffee cart next to the diner.”
“She makes the best breve in Montana, in my opinion,” Matilda said at once.“I would follow her anywhere.”
Tennessee frowned.“I don’t even know what a breve is.”
“Steamed cream.Pure joy.Oh, and coffee.”
He shook his head.“Have you ever noticed that Helena looks like someone?Someone you know?”
Matilda tilted her head a little and thought about it.Helena Patrick was mystifyingly pretty.She couldn’t even put her finger on why.Aside from the sleek, long limbs and that effortless,just rolled out of bed like thislook that was always astonishingly cute.Plus blue eyes and dark hair, a combination that was always hard to look away from.
Matilda was jealous of that sort of pretty girl, her sister Rosie being one of them—although at least Rosie spent a great deal of time working on the maintenance of her beauty, which made it more tolerable.Matilda, by contrast, was notsleekin any way.She was solid, because she needed to be sturdy if she was going to be picking up large dogs and other heavy animals and carting them around.And she waseffortlessly dressedin what she rolled out of bed and found of a morning, but no one had ever accused her of being cute in that elfin, manic pixie dream girl way.
