Holiday Confessions

“All right,” he said before he could think about it too much more. “If you really want her, she can stay. You two can have a sleep-over.” He turned back in the direction of her kitchen. “But she still needs to come when I call her. Feather! Come!” He used the I-am-not-kidding tone he rarely employed, and this time he heard her as she heaved herself to her feet, lazily stretched and shook and finally strolled toward him.

“Smart-aleck,” he told her when she reached his side. He grabbed her collar as she attempted to worm her way between Cedar and him. “No, girl. Sorry.” He knelt, laying an arm across her soft back. “Would you like to stay with Lynne tonight?”

“You could get her when you come home from work tomorrow,” Lynne said hopefully. “I have an interview at one o’clock but I don’t expect to be gone more than an hour, if that. She wouldn’t be alone all day.”

And neither would Lynne, he thought, reading between the lines. “Works for me,” he said, “if you’re sure that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all.” The lilt in her voice told him she was being truthful. “I’d love the company.”

“Okay.” He snuggled his old dog for a moment, then rose and picked up Cedar’s harness. “We’ll see how she acts when I walk out the door.”

He gave the forward command as Lynne opened her front door, and Cedar led him straight across the hall to stop in front of his own door. “What did she do?” he asked.

“She went back to the kitchen and lay down on the rug again.”

He chuckled, although he felt vaguely hurt. “Traitor.” He extended his right hand, realizing that he was anticipating the touch of hers just a little too much. “Thank you for dinner. And again, for the cookies.”

She placed her hand in his, and the physical awareness that had simmered all through dinner hit him squarely in the solar plexus.

Lynne stilled as their hands clasped. Stilled completely, as if she were frozen. His body began to stir to life at the touch of her soft flesh. Her hand was small and delicate, nearly swallowed by his much-larger one, and he simply held it, unable to make himself release her. Slowly he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and heard her suck in her breath sharply. Satisfaction rushed through him. She felt it, too.

What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re not interested in a relationship.

Chemistry, he assured himself. That’s all it was. It didn’t mean anything. And yet—he still held her hand clasped in his.

Her telephone rang, shrill in the silence that had fallen between them. He felt her hand jump and let her slide it from his. “That would be my sister,” she said, “calling to commiserate. I guess Dad just told her, too.”

He followed her lead, not acknowledging the moment that had passed, although he was still acutely aware of her. “I’ll let you get that,” he said. “How about we meet in the hallway at ten-thirty to take them out for the night? I’ll teach you her commands then.”

“All right.” She touched his arm briefly, hastily. “Thank you for coming over. See you in a bit.” She dashed back into her own apartment as the phone rang again, and he heard her door close.

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