He was imagining all the things he would do to her when she kissed him on the mouth and climbed out of bed. He caught her hand. “Hey, get back here. I’m not finished with you.”
She gave him an apologetic smile. “As much as I’d like to see what you have in mind, I need to take care of the dogs and get ready to work. Besides, I came three times last night. I was just helping you catch up.”
He chuckled. “That’s sweet of you.”
“Not really. I love watching you come.” She walked off toward the bathroom, tossing him a sexy look over her shoulder, dark hair hanging down her back, her ass delectable.
Damned if she wasn’t every man’s wet dream—or at leasthiswet dream.
He sat up, called after her. “I’ll handle the dogs.”
“Thanks!”
His body glowing, he got out of bed, pulled on the boxer briefs and jeans he’d tossed on the floor, then made his way downstairs. He let the dogs out and then fed them. They seemed to adore each other, wagging their tails, meeting nose to nose. He knelt down to pet them. “Let’s not tell your mommy the two of you are friends now. She might take you back, Gabby, and I don’t want you to go.”
Gabby licked his hand, apparently agreeing with him.
By the time Kenzie came downstairs, he had omelets, toast, and coffee waiting.
“This is better than room service.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I like a man who’s good in the kitchen, too.”
“Yeah, I figured that one out.”
They talked about their plans for the day. Kenzie had a scent-work class from seven to eight at the kennel. Conrad had no idea what that was.
“Scent classes teach people’s pets—dogs who aren’t trained for SAR or HRD—to search and find things based on odor. It’s not meant to turn them into working dogs. It hones a dog’s natural hunting skills, teaches their people more about them, and strengthens bonds. It’s a lot of fun for both dogs and humans.”
“Cool.” Conrad still had that resume to write up and a job application to fill out for Ski Scarlet. “Barring either of us getting toned out, I will finally cook up those salmon fillets and have dinner waiting for you when you get home.”
Ten minutes later, Kenzie was ready to go, Gizmo on his leash. “Thanks for being there for me last night.”
“Hey, you’ve been there for me, too.” He bent down, kissed her, and was surprised to realize he didn’t want her to go.
“See you tonight.” She opened the back door, then glanced back at him. “Don’t punch any reporters while I’m at work, okay?”
He walked her to the door. “I make no promises.”
He drove home feeling more like himself than he had in a while. It wasn’t yesterday’s meditation that had made the difference. It was Kenzie. Something about her made everything better. It didn’t hurt that she gave head like a goddess and was every man’s dream in bed. But it wasn’t just the mind-blowing sex.
When he was around her, his world felt whole again.
What the hell was up with that?
He turned the corner onto his street—and almost slammed on the breaks. Sitting in front of his home were two news vans from Denver TV stations, reporters standing in a throng on the sidewalk and in his driveway.
“Son of a bitch.” He thought for a moment of driving back to Kenzie’s place, but he wasn’t going to let the media chase him out of his home.
He turned into his driveway, going slowly enough not to hit anyone but fast enough to send the message that they’d better damned well get out of his way. He pressed the button for his garage door, drove inside, and closed it behind him.
Candace had been right. This wasn’t over.
* * *
Kenzie foundherself in the middle of a frustrating day. Dree went home with a bad migraine, so Kenzie had to take over at the store. That was fine. It was her store, after all, and she just wanted Dree to feel better.
But then the distributor of her most popular brand of organic cat food notified her that they would no longer be carrying the product, leaving her to search for a new supplier. The couple who had reserved a spot for their boxer called at the last minute to say their trip had been canceled. Bentley, the Goldendoodle, had gone back to his people this morning, leaving the number of dogs in the kennel at three, which meant a crimp in cash flow.
Then Wendy Hall, a local who worked as a reporter for the tinyScarlet Gazette, walked into the store.
