“Humble, aren’t you?” Shaking my head, I laughed before sliding the box onto the shelf on the bottom of my cart.
“Hey, I know when I’ve done a good job.” He beamed and crouched to pat the box of reindeer. Scared of dogs. Soft spot for plywood creatures. He truly was something else. “These will go perfectly with the simple lighting scheme I’ve laid out for you. They can be the one touch of whimsy.”
I was pretty sure that role was reserved for Gideon. Humming softly, he moved on, but I lingered a moment, appreciating the way his bouncy steps showed off his backside. Plain khaki pants, but round, firm, bitable ass. Damn it. He was here to do me a favor, not rev up my body to new levels of awareness. But it was getting harder and harder, literally, to remember that.
Chapter Ten
Be careful out there! Snow is forecast for later, and it could get icy! Don’t freeze your fannies off! ~ Cheryl Bridges posted to the What’s Up Neighbor app
Gideon
Paul Frost was a secret softie, and I now had ample evidence. His box of treasures was the first clue, but watching him shop was another. Even though he wanted to defer to me, I had a wonderful time letting his clues guide my selections. He gravitated toward classic themes and items with an old-fashioned feel. His eyes would linger on an ornament featuring a retro sled or vintage truck hauling a tree, then he’d sigh and move on.
And I’d quickly add the item to his cart while he scolded me about budget even as his lips curved into the barest of smiles. We made an excellent team, and by the time we reached the checkout lanes, I was floating on a shopping high that lasted all the way back to our driveway.
“I’m glad we took my truck.” He deftly backed the truck in, lining up the full truck bed with his back porch like he was leveling up for a video game. “I’m surprised there’s anything left in the store.”
“Ha. If we unload fast, we can still get some lights up before the weather turns.” It had been cold all day with gray, ominous skies but no snow yet. Hopping out, I went right to check on the load. Paul had secured everything down with a tarp, but I was still relieved we’d made it back without anything blowing away. I grabbed two bags and started stacking items by his back door.
“You still want to string lights today?” He groaned, but he didn’t sound completely opposed to the idea as he set his armload next to mine. Inside, Jim let out a series of excited woofs. “Do you have an extra battery pack or something? How do you keep going and going?”
“Go let Jim out,” I ordered as I loaded up another armful of purchases. “I’m going to go pick us up some hoagies. You’ll be less hangry with food.”
“I’m not hangry.” He gave me an absolutely withering look, but I wasn’t fooled.
“No, you’re perma-grumpy.” Not thinking, I patted his cheek. Oops. Forgot about my resolution to stop touching him. And the way his whiskers prickled my palm made my whole body hum. His expression shifted from irritated to something far more potent. And dangerous. I stepped back in a hurry, all breathless. “I’ll be back with food, my lighting schematics, and timers to get started.”
“Only you could make that sound exciting.” His tone was resigned, but his eyes twinkled. I was glad I could amuse him if nothing else.
“I try.” And I took advantage of him being distracted by wrestling the box of reindeer to get him to tell me a sandwich order. After a lightning-fast trip to the sandwich joint on the other side of the park, I returned as promised, balancing the bag of hoagies on one of my big plastic tubs of lights and equipment.
“Thanks.” Paul led me to his kitchen table, dog fast at his heels. “Ignore her. She smells food. Jim, go lie down.”
“She’s okay.” I still gave her a wide berth as I took a chair. “But thanks.”
“God knows I’ve got enough dog beds. She can sniff your food from over there.” He waved Jim toward the padded mat in the corner. Paul caring about my comfort level and nerves made my chest all warm and light.
“How did you end up with a girl dog named Jim?” I asked as I unwrapped my turkey and avocado on wheat.
“Girls can’t be named Jim?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Point taken.” I should have ordered a meatball hoagie like Paul because his sandwich smelled far better than mine. “I meant more like, how did you convince Jim to put up with your stellar temperament?”
“Maybe she doesn’t think of me as cranky.” His mood was definitely improved by the food, not that I was going to point that out. “And we found her at a worksite. She was still a young dog, under a year, and in a sorry state, huddled under a wheelbarrow. Crew member I was with, Jim Rivers, convinced me to take her home for the night while we tried to locate an owner. I called the dog Jim in his honor to get his goat. It was supposed to be temporary.”
“So your one-night stand became a long-term relationship?” I laughed. “If only it were that easy the rest of the time.”
“Yeah, but dogs are easy. It’s people that are the problem.” Paul caught a stray drop of marinara with his tongue.
“Says the dog person,” I retorted, enjoying watching him eat far too much. It had to be a sign of how hard up I was that his big appetite joined the growing number of things that turned me on about him.
“Animals do tend to like me.” Paul adopted an arch tone as he started in on his chips. “We had a couple of terriers when I was growing up. Sucked that I couldn’t have a dog for Brandon while we were in an apartment. And he, of course, was all over the notion of me keeping Jim around soon as he heard about her. Made the mistake of sending him a cell picture. I promised she wouldn’t go to a shelter while we tried to find her a permanent home.”
“How’d that work out for you?” Yup. He was one hundred percent a soft touch, and uncovering the good person at the core of his gruff exterior was my new favorite hobby.
“Three years now.” He tossed the dog a look so fond I was almost tempted to go lie on the mat myself. “Had some offers for her, but nothing was a good enough fit. So she stayed.”
“I have a feeling nothing short of royalty with a private dog walker might have passed your test.”