“It’s true. Fish here loves his pets, which is a miracle, you know. He adopted me this year. I found him half-starved in the middle of nowhere.” That was not a lie. I’d been out on patrol and found him in the middle of the damn woods with whip marks all over him. Our bond had been immediate. You’d think he’d be afraid of people, but not Fish. He had more courage than ninety percent of the population.
If I’d found someone responsible, they’d have been hauled in and charged (after tripping a few times and landing on their face). I might work for the Oregon State Police as a game warden, but animals were my soft spot.
“People are so fucked up, aren’t they, you poor baby. Look at you, how special you are. What meany would do that to you?” She crouched down, and my dog melted into her touch, shameless as always as she made a big show of snuffling into Fish’s face while he licked her. The sight of her laughing softly as she rubbed his belly sent something sharp and stupid through my chest.
“You just made his week.” Fish rolled a little on his back so he could angle himself closer to her as she leaned over him, letting her waterfall of hair spread over him. He was happy as a dang clam as his tongue darted towards her face. She obliged, bending lower so he could lick her cheek. Jesus. Lucky dog.
“Seems easy to please.” She tipped a smile up at me, genuine and lighthearted, clear of anything that she’d been holding onto a few moments ago.
Dang, I was a sucker for a fellow pet lover. “Yeah, that’s the thing about Fish. He’s an absolute glutton for any sort of affection. I’m not one to deny him belly rubs.”
She looked up then, a smile tugging at her lips. “So, you saw me looking at the cabin flyer.” Getting back to her feet, she tucked a hand in her pocket and looked back at the bulletin board. “You know anything about them?”
“Yeah, actually I do.” Debating what to tell her, I contemplated her profile as she studied the board again. The cabins were for rent, and if she wanted one, I had no problem with her staying out there. Maybe I could coaxher out for a date if she was staying for a while. “They’re quiet. Clean. Out past town, about twenty minutes. Good for people who want to disappear for a while.”
Her eyes narrowed just slightly, like the words struck a nerve. “That’s a strange selling point.”
“Depends on who you’re selling to, I suppose. You can look them up online. There’s a website.” Sage had gotten fancy taking pictures of the property and the cabins, much to my annoyance. “You can even book that way.”
Her mouth quirked — the kind of half smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re not trying to talk me into something, are you?”
“Well, small towns, you know?” I gave Fish an indulgent pat. “We’re all about being welcoming. I know a good coffee shop just up the street. My treat. I’m Kipp.”
“What about your dog? If we go for coffee, what happens to poor Fish? That wouldn’t be fair.” Those perfect pink lips gave a little exaggerated moue, and I nearly groaned at the thought of them wrapped around another part of my body.
“Fish can come. They have a few tables outside.” I’d guess that guys tried to talk her into stuff all the time. “Just being neighborly.”
One eyebrow raised to show she didn’t believe in the term. She was justified in being skeptical overall. Usually, being neighborly wasn’t my thing. I liked to keep tomyself. My family and my job were all I needed. Fish wiggled a little as if to remind me that now I had more responsibilities. Now I had Fish. Life was good. I didn’t need to wonder about some random tourist.
She was watching me closely, and it seemed as if I wasn’t the only one who was good at reading people. “You from around here?” she asked.
“Born and raised.” That was the easy answer. There were layers to that question, but there was no reason to delve into them with her, even if I were taking her to coffee. “You?”
“Nope.” She wrinkled up that cute little nose of hers. “Somewhere else,” she said vaguely. Her hand brushed the flyer again. “You said quiet, huh?” She studied me for a moment. “You don’t strike me as the chatty type.”
“Usually not.”
“And yet here you are chatting it up.” She kicked her boots in the dust a little as if she were thinking about it.
“Guess you bring it out in me.” My mouth couldn’t help but quirk into a smile. “You gonna go have that coffee with me?”
That earned the smallest laugh that made her eyes warm as she looked me up and down as if she liked what she saw, and that was a turn on. “Maybe.”
Finally, she tore a tab from the flyer and tucked it into her pocket. “What’s the owner like?”
“Depends who you ask. Kind of a hermit. Doesn’t talk much. Needs to shower more often. Has a dog.”
“Ah.” She nodded in understanding. “So... not exactly hospitality material. Probably why these cabins are so private. Really selling these things as a great place to stay, Kipp.”
“Doing my best.” My sister would kill me if she knew this was how I was pitching my cabins, but I enjoyed watching how this woman reacted to me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get into some stupid sales pitch just to make a few bucks.
Her eyes met mine again — steady, unflinching. “Maybe I’ll give him a call.” She extended her hand. “I’m Hattie.”
Maybe I should have clarified that I owned the cabins, but instead I only nodded once. “He’ll probably answer.”
The name fit, and I took her hand eagerly, wanting a chance to touch her. “Kipp Holt,” I said, letting my hand enclose her smaller one, taking delight in the smooth brush of her soft skin against mine.
Her mouth curved slightly. “Of course you are. Well, if you’re still here when I’m finished with my grocery shopping, we’ll see about that coffee.”
