CHAPTER SIX
The dirt was cool underher tired, aching, bare feet. Just home from work, Roberta browsed among the short row of potted tomatoes beside the back deck. Shuffling along the plants, a glass of red wine in hand, she was hungry but in one of those weird food moods. She didn’t know what she wanted to eat. A ripe cherry tomato she touched popped off in her hand. She rubbed the fine layer of dust off on her tank top before tossing it in her mouth. A burst of sweet, acidic tomato flavor, a combination of rainwater, sunshine, and love, squirted into her mouth when she bit down on the smooth red skin. Eyes closed, she savored the tactile and taste sensations exploding on her tongue.
“Hello.”
Roberta startled at the rich timber of the familiar voice behind her. The dogs leaped up from their snoozing spots in the grass and barreled toward her neighbor, barking wildly. His smile swiftly turned to wariness at the two canines tearing across the grass directly at him.
“They’re friendly. They don’t bite,” she yelled, her entire body stiffening. At Taylor’s approach, her insides fluttered, and her mouth went dry. Remembering the feel of his arms around her as he carried her in her house, her insides quivered. She sighed.Even in a T-shirt and cargo shorts, he looks incredible.
Taylor stood perfectly still. Though his lips moved, from fifty feet away, she couldn’t hear what he said. The dogs stopped in front of him, tails wagging excitedly. She gasped as Tucker and Goober sat abruptly. Tucker’s whole body wiggled impatiently even while his butt stayed on the ground. Dog biscuits materialized in Taylor’s hands, and the peace offerings were unanimously accepted. Roberta breathed again, realizing she had been half afraid her dogs would maul his gorgeous body, or worse, his face.
Taylor held out his hand for a high-five. Roberta gasped again as first Goober, then Tucker touched their own paws to his palm. She had never seen them do that before. He offered them another treat before he picked up a stick and gave it a toss, sending them racing after it. While they ran to the other side of the lawn, Taylor approached her, stopping six feet shy.
“Hello. Let me introduce myself properly. I’m Taylor.” He stood perfectly still, hands buried deep in his pockets, the cords of his neck and shoulders tense and prominent. For a millisecond, his arms jerked as if he would offer a hand to shake, but he must have changed his mind. His hands remained in his pockets.
“Hi. I’m Roberta,” she said, not sure what else to say. Then blurted, “You’ve made two new best friends today.” She nodded in the direction of the dogs, now running back with the stick. “The white and tan brindle spaniel and poodle cross is Tucker. Which means the stockier, black and white wiry coated one missing half an ear is Goober.”
“They’re great. Mind if I play with them?” He took the stick returned by Tucker.
Roberta smiled. “Of course not. They tire me out before they quit. They’ll love another victim.” She swallowed. She was salivating looking at the man, and here she was actually chatting with him.
“We’ll see.” His eyes twinkled as he pulled back his right arm to launch the stick into flight. The dogs saw the wind-up and started running in the direction of his aim. Taylor spun his body sideways at the pitch, hurling the stick in a completely different direction than the dogs anticipated. They ran full out, ears flapping, paws churning up the grass. Roberta laughed so hard she snorted. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as heat rose in her cheeks.
“What’s so funny?” Taylor asked, chuckling as the dogs stole the stick back and forth from each other a few times before they each grabbed one end and together brought it back to him.
The joy in her dogs’ eyes was infectious. On a good day, she could never give them such a workout. She laughed again, being careful not to snort this time. “They aresogoing to sleep well tonight!”
“Ooh yeah. No doubt about it.” He threw the stick again, using the same technique. Goober and Tucker raced in all directions trying to find it.
Roberta sat down on the deck stairs and watched the three play fetch. As time went on, she spent less time observing the dogs and more time eyeing Taylor’s flexing muscles as he threw the stick and ran around with them.
Within twenty minutes, the dogs lolled on the grass, tongues hanging, panting joy with bad breath. Taylor came sauntering over, his arms spread out palms up to Roberta. “Who’s the victim?” he asked, raising one dark brown eyebrow.
“If they could talk, I think they’d say ‘Uncle’ for tonight.” She chuckled. There were a few seconds of silence as they stared at each other. A lump started to form in Roberta’s throat, and she began to perspire.What to say?She cleared her throat and asked, “Would you like to sit on the deck? Something to drink? Iced tea, soda, beer, wine?”Or me.
Taylor’s shoulders tensed as he looked at the sky’s deepening twilight, running his hand through his hair and over the nape of his neck. Then he checked his watch before looking at her, his brow furrowed. “I should get back to the house. I’m on the call sheet for tomorrow morning. Thanks for letting me play with your dogs. I enjoyed it, and it was nice to finally have a chance to meet you properly.”
“Yes,” she replied, “and thanks for wearing them out. I’m sure they’ll be happy to come out and play anytime.” Roberta called Goober and Tucker as Taylor went back to his side of the invisible property line. She and the dogs sat on the deck a little longer, watching the constellations appear.
?
Friday night started much the same, except Roberta ordered in a veggie pizza before taking the dogs outside. Within five minutes, Taylor came over to play with them. Shocked to see him for a second consecutive night, Roberta thought he must be quite taken with the dogs. All three played hard and fast. Numerous sticks and tennis balls became projectiles to chase around the four acres making up the twin backyards. Forty minutes later, the pizza delivery truck stopped the action. Given the choice of playing or the possibility of food, the dogs chose the food. They sprinted over, having caught the scent. Taylor stood abandoned in the yard as the box was placed on the patio table. He looked up at her, a quizzical look on his face.
Roberta summoned him with a wave. “Come on up, have some.”
Taylor glanced over to his house, then his watch, then slowly walked over to the deck. “I didn’t mean to disturb your dinner.”
“For heaven’s sake, of course, you didn’t. How were you to know I had ordered a pizza? Come on and eat. I can’t finish this whole thing alone. And eating it as leftovers gets old after day two.”
Her back to him, Roberta spread out paper plates, utensils and napkins also delivered with the pie. His footsteps coming up the deck stairs confirmed her instincts were correct. The lightness blossoming in her chest grew into a smile on her face. Over her shoulder, she asked, “What would you like to drink? Diet Pepsi, lemonade, orange juice, iced tea, beer, wine, or water?”
A chair scraped on the deck’s planks as Taylor pulled it out. She watched him slowly easing into it, his eyes shifting uneasily around. “Water’s fine,” he said before looking back at her.
“Be right back.” She disappeared inside the house. Her visit to the kitchen for beverages included a quick trip to the full-length mirror to check her appearance. Her jean shorts were still clean, as was her green Rolling Stones T-shirt, disregarding a few errant dog hairs. She tried brushing them off. They didn’t budge.
When she returned with two empty glasses, a pitcher of iced water, and a beer for herself, he still looked tense sitting at the table. Even his hand, scratching behind a dog’s ear, seemed too fast, too erratic.
“I’m not going to bite or take your picture or rip your clothes off or anything of the sort.” She blurted out the words. “It’s just pizza.”Great way to make him feel at ease!