He’d brought his puppy to run an errand. It was quirky, maybe even overkill, and Dana loved it.
She practically tripped over her own feet as she stepped back too quickly, allowing him entrance. She hid her embarrassment by reaching for the puppy. “Let’s get you out of there, shall we?” she said, and Little Guy whimpered, giving her his saddest look.
Except she had his number. “You’re spoiled and you know it,” she told the puppy as she cuddled him for a second before setting him free.
“He just went about fifteen minutes ago, but still, do you really think that’s a good idea? He’s going to mess up your floor.”
“It’s tile,” she pointed out. “Easily cleaned. And besides, he lived here first, remember?”
The puppy went straight to the kitchen and Kari’s empty food bowl, proving Dana’s point that he knew his way around. Kari was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but Dana figured it wouldn’t be long before she reestablished who was the boss around Dana’s house.
“You want to play a game of cards?” Dana asked her human guest minutes later as she stood in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of merlot from the six-dollar jug she’d picked up at the big-box store outside of town. Josh had made himself at home at her kitchen table and looked as if he’d be content to stay awhile.
Giving her that eyebrow quirk that she’d come to associate with him, he tilted his head. “What kind of cards?”
“You name the game.”
“Five-card draw, cribbage, five-card stud...”
Setting the glasses of wine on the table, she scooped Little Guy up to sit on her lap and pointed to the drawer at the end of the counter closest to Josh. “Cards are in there. You deal,” she said.
Figuring he’d pick five-card draw, Dana was almost disappointed when he brought the cribbage board along with him. Daniel was a card man, and five-card draw had been his game. So Dana, in one of her many attempts to win back the adoration of the man she’d grown up adoring, had made it a goal to be as good at the game as Daniel was.
She succeeded at cards. Just not with Daniel.
And not with Josh, either, she found as he counted his peg around to the home lap while she’d barely hit third street. “By the way,” she said, her tongue a bit loosened by the second almost-full glass of wine she’d consumed that evening. “I’m having a group of people over for Thanksgiving dinner. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
“Sure,” he said again, dealing cards as if he’d done so professionally at some point. Dana’s stomach did a flip-flop.
And not because of the card-dealing.
She wouldn’t let herself wonder what would happen if she asked Josh to take her to bed and have his wild way with her.
She’d hold her tongue on that one. She didn’t want to scare him off.
Or scare herself, either.
Because if, by some miracle, she asked and he said yes, she wouldn’t have the foggiest idea how to follow through with the wild sex.
Strictly boring, missionary-style was all it had ever been for her.
Still, it didn’t hurt to fantasize....
* * *
JOSH HAD A SECOND GLASS of wine at Dana’s on Sunday night, staying until her houseguest showed up just after ten. At which time he went home to go to bed so he could wake up early for his first day on the job the next day.
He’d made it through his first official weekend as a regular guy.
L.G., as he was beginning to think of the puppy, had curled up in his kennel as soon as Josh settled it on the bed.
Which left Josh with absolutely nothing else to do except go to sleep.
Stripping down to his briefs, he turned off the light. Lay down. Closed his eyes. And thrummed a drumbeat on the mattress with his right hand. Until he noticed what he was doing and stopped. His toe took over the beat, tapping against the sheet.
Da. Da da da. Da. Da da da. Da.
He turned the kennel a bit. So he could see if L.G. moved. The puppy didn’t seem to notice.
Ten-thirty. Half-past midnight at home. His buddies would be at the club. Some who had wives would have them along. Others who had wives would be out alone. Everyone just understood that was how the world worked. Their world, at least.
Da. Da da da. Da. Da da da. Da.
He didn’t have any buddies in Shelter Valley. No one to call.
His Harvard buddy, Drew, might be home. His wife was expecting any minute now, unless she’d already had the baby. He’d been staying close to home. And didn’t always join them on Sunday nights, anyway. The guy had it bad for his wife.
Which was cool.
Da. Da da da. Da. Da da da. Da.
Picking up his smartphone, Josh scrolled through the lighted contact window on his LED screen.