“Hi. Stop. Ew. Please. Good dog.”
“Dizzy! Jesus Christ, get off her!”
A sense of foreboding overcame Emmy as an attractive thirty-something guy pulled the dog off her and wrestledhim until he was standing still. The guy’s wavy brown hair fell just so over his forehead. His big green eyes were full of concern and apology. When she took his offered hand so he could help her to her feet, she felt the brush of calluses.
“I am so sorry. Sit!Sit, Disaster.”
The dog, with a bit more physical and verbal cajoling, plopped his butt on the sidewalk. His tongue lolled out of his mouth in a grin and his tail continued to wag steadily.
“You named your dog Disaster?” Emmy couldn’t help asking.
“No, I named him Dizzy because he was always chasing his tail. Then a couple weeks after I got him, I unofficially changed it to Disaster because he is one.” Emmy got a glimpse of a charmingly apologetic grin when the guy turned his attention back to her. “He escaped the yard when my niece opened the gate. She’s kind of a disaster, too, if I’m being honest. Don’t tell my sister I said that. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Emmy said, reaching back to swipe dust and gravel from the sidewalk off her butt. She winced at the brief contact. Just what she needed—a bruised butt to cap everything off.
“Are you hurt?” His voice was full of concern.
“I’ll live,” she replied, using the excuse of gathering up the clothes she’d dropped to avoid eye contact with him. “I was just heading home, so…”
“Do you want to stop by my place for some water or something? I live a couple blocks away. The least I can do is give you a chance to catch your breath since my dog assaulted you.” He smiled again in a way that woulddefinitely have caught her interest if she weren’t already more than fed up with attractive men accosting her every five feet. “I’m Simon, by the way.”
“Hi, Simon. Which direction is your house?”
He pointed.
“Okay, I’m headed in the opposite direction actually,” she lied. “Thanks for rescuing me from your dog. You better get him home.”
“Alright, if you’re sure. I don’t want you to—”
“Ma’am, is everything alright?”
Emmy wanted to groan, but stifled it. It was a cop who had spoken. God knew where he’d come from. Just the sight of the crisp blue uniform had her back going up, and she clutched the roll of Will’s borrowed clothes closer to her body as if it were a shield. But the cop’s eyes showed only polite concern.
“Are you hurt, miss?”
This would make six hot guys who’d approached her if she included Truck Guy. All white, her mind supplied unhelpfully. Typical romance novel. Was it too much to ask for one person of color? She wanted to continue fleeing, but decided to take advantage of the situation.
“I’m not hurt. Simon was just heading home.”
The cop glanced at Simon, who looked put out by the interruption. “I’ll take it from here, thanks.”
“Alright. Sure. Come on, Dizzy Disaster.”
Simon got a firm grip on the dog’s collar and headed off down the street.
“Did his dog attack you? Do you want to file a report?”
“No, it didn’t attack me. I’m really fine, except…” She tried her best to look lost and helpless. “I forgot my phoneat home and I’m getting kind of frantic. Do you think you could give me a ride?”
“Sure. Come on.”
He cast a look over his shoulder as if checking for attackers. Feeling grateful for the reprieve, she got into the car with him, waited while he radioed his partner or dispatch or whatever to give an update. Then froze up when he asked for her address.
“Um… I don’t remember, if I’m being honest. I live with Will Barrett. Do you know him?”
“Will? Yeah, I went to high school with him. I didn’t even know he was seeing someone, let alone living with someone.”
He pulled away from the curb and started back toward the little country road that led toward Will’s house.
