Love, Always and Forever Page 10

  Okay, then. “Good night, Mikhail.”

  He nodded and disappeared into the darkness. Once inside, she was at a loss as to what to do next. Finally, she headed for the kitchen to put the bowls in the dishwasher. There it occurred to her that she’d worked up an appetite, too. She might not have any pie handy, but she still had some Ben and Jerry’s. Laughing, she got down a clean bowl.

  Temptation came in many forms. And if she couldn’t have Mikhail, she’d just have to settle for a second helping of her favorite ice cream.

  Chapter 10

  Mikhail had wondered if things might be a bit awkward between him and Amy after the other night, but obviously he’d worried for no reason. Of course, right now she was so excited about their current mission that a little thing like the two of them almost having sex on his front porch paled in comparison. Lucky her. The memory of the perfect fit of her body against his, the scent of her skin, the taste of her kiss—all of those things and more had played over and over again in his head like one of Joe’s old records when the needle got stuck.

  When she slid into the front seat next to him, she asked, “Are you sure you don’t mind going with me? I feel like I’ve commandeered a lot of your time lately.”

  He backed out of the driveway. “If I didn’t want to go, I’d say so. Besides, I want to meet the new guy in your life.”

  “It’s kind of scary.” Amy turned a worried look in his direction. “I’ve never owned a dog before. What if he doesn’t like me?”

  If she hadn’t looked so scared, he might have laughed. He reached across the console to take her hand in his. “Your puppy will love you, Amy. Five minutes in your company and he’ll know he’s the luckiest little guy in the world.”

  He knew that for a fact, because that’s the effect Amy had on him, too. In a lot of ways, she came across as incredibly…what? Naïve wasn’t the right word. Innocent came closer. Her simple joy in a motorcycle ride or in eating those enormous banana splits on his front porch was contagious. He’d been in a bad place when she’d come creeping across his yard armed with equal measures of ice cream and feminine temptation.

  By the time he’d walked her back home, the tangled knot of darkness in his head had disappeared, which had allowed him to sleep through the night in peace. Well, except for some pretty hot dreams that involved the two of them someplace a helluva lot more private than his front porch. Not for the first time he reminded himself that if they ever did cross that line, he’d have to use great care with her. Amy’s enthusiasm didn’t disguise her inexperience.

  Right now she was singing along with the song on the radio, patting out the time on her thigh. When she realized he was looking at her, she smiled and launched right into the next song. She was obviously in a good mood and excited about bringing her new roommate home today. But there was always something lurking in the back of her eyes that said she’d seen more than her own share of darkness. Yet rather than letting herself get mired in the shadows, she was determined to enjoy the light while it lasted.

  He had no idea why he knew that was true, but he did. Her life hadn’t always been peaches and cream. Maybe that’s why he was more comfortable in her company than anyone else’s.

  Time to change the subject.

  “So have you thought about a name yet?”

  She nodded. “I’ve been making lists, but I decided to let the little guy tell me what he wants to be called.”

  He couldn’t resist yanking her chain a little. “I hate to break it to you that dogs can’t really talk.”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously, but that doesn’t mean they can’t communicate. I thought I’d try out my favorites on the list and see which one he responds to. Or maybe he’ll have some marking or feature that will inspire the perfect name.”

  “Like Splotch?”

  His efforts to help were clearly such a disappointment to her. “You’ll see. He and I will come up with the perfect name.”

  “Flop Ear? Short Tail?”

  Brat that she was, Amy grabbed a lock of his hair and gave it a sharp tug. “Cut it out, Mikhail. This is my dog we’re talking about.”

  “Okay, we’ll wait to see what the little guy has to say for himself.”

  They fell into a companionable silence. It was a nice day for a drive, and the three hours it took to reach the other side of the mountains sped by quickly. Finally, he veered off at the next exit. The breeder’s home was only a short distance from the highway, so ten minutes later they pulled to a stop in front of a well-kept house and yard.

  When Amy drifted to a stop just a few feet from his SUV, he asked, “Are you ready for this?”

  “I hope so. It’s kind of scary taking on responsibility for another living being.”

  “You’ll do fine, and he’ll love you.” He took her hand in his. “Come on. Let’s go meet Drooler.”

  Instead of being offended, she laughed. “Okay, as bad as that is, I kind of like it.”

  Mikhail sighed and shook his head. “Poor dog doesn’t know what he’s in for.”

  A woman had stepped out on the front porch. “You must be Amy. I’m Lydia Allen.”

  Amy gave Mikhail one last worried look before turning her attention to the breeder. “It’s nice to meet you in person after all our emails and phone calls. This is my friend Mikhail Wanjek.”

  After the three of them exchanged handshakes, Lydia led them around to the kennels on the back side of her house. “As I told you on the phone, we had two litters pretty close together, so I have six left for you to choose from. There are four males and two females.”

  This time it was Amy who latched onto his hand and held on with a death grip. He gave her fingers a quick squeeze to reassure her. Lydia stopped. “I always think it’s a good idea for prospective owners to meet the puppies’ parents. That will give some idea of the size they’ll likely get to be as well as temperament.”

  Getting to know the adult dogs took about half an hour, during which the breeder explained that Olde English Bulldogges were active dogs that required regular exercise. Once Amy assured her that was exactly what she was looking for, they headed for the enclosure where the puppies were getting some playtime.

  Mikhail took his cellphone out and snapped a bunch of pictures of Amy as the puppies climbed all over her while she laughed at their antics. It didn’t take long to realize that she already had a favorite, one of the males. His body was mostly black with a white streak down the middle of his chest. His face was white, but with black ears and black circles around his eyes. Somehow Mikhail doubted she’d name him Panda, but he suggested it anyway.

  To his surprise, she grinned and nodded. “I like it!”

  While she got further acquainted with her new roommate, an adult bulldog with a brindled coat watched Mikhail from a short distance away. When he finally knelt down and held out his hand, the dog edged closer to give it a good sniff and then a quick lick. Then he bumped his head against Mikhail’s fingers, a not-so-subtle hint about what he wanted.

  “Hi, buddy. Do you need some attention, too?”

  The dog immediately laid down and rolled over, offering up his belly for a rub. Finally, Mikhail sat down in the grass and let the dog sprawl across his lap. The dog seemed content to sit there dozing in the sun with him; his rumbling snores made Mikhail smile. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself back sleeping in a barracks with his buddies. Some of those guys could really rattle the rafters, making it hard to fall asleep.

  Damn, he missed that. Missed them, especially the ones who hadn’t made it back.

  A shadow fell across him, dragging him back to the present. Lydia stood a short distance away watching the pair of them. “Sarge really likes you.”

  Something in her voice caught Mikhail’s attention. “Are you surprised by that?”

  “A little. He’s a rescue dog that we’ve been fostering for a while now. He was a stray, so we don’t know anything about his background. When we first got him, he was underfed an
d pretty skittish, but we’ve been working with him. Our best guess is that he’s about two years old, no more than three. The vet checked him over again the other day and gave him a clean bill of health.”

  At the sound of her voice, Sarge woke up and blinked sleepily at the two humans. Mikhail gently eased him off his lap to stand up and backed away, determined to ignore the way the dog followed his every move. “Why the name Sarge?”

  Lydia laughed. “That was my grandson’s doing. He thought that brindled coat resembled the camouflage uniforms the military wears.”

  The kid was right. Sort of, anyway. The mix of black and brown would certainly make the dog hard to see in certain environments.

  “What will happen to him?” Not that Mikhail really wanted to know.

  Lydia leaned down to scratch Sarge on the head. “We only keep rescue dogs until they’re ready to be adopted. We’re about to send him on to one of the shelters to see if they can place him. His picture is already posted on a couple of the online adoption sites.”

  The image of Sarge locked up in a cage or a kennel waiting for some stranger to choose him over any of the other dogs in the place hurt a lot more than it should have. Poor guy, especially if he was just now getting over the trauma of being lost or abandoned by his previous owner. Being uprooted again to move first to a shelter and then again to some stranger’s house wouldn’t be easy for him.

  “If someone wanted to adopt him, what would that entail?”

  The question slipped out before Mikhail could stop it. Even so, with those big brown eyes watching his every move, he couldn’t bring himself to regret asking.

  Lydia’s worried expression lightened up at the question. “If you’re really interested in adopting him, I have all the necessary paperwork inside. If you’d rather think about it for a few days, I can put a hold on his transfer. Adopting a dog is a big step, especially if it’s not something you’ve been planning to do.”

  Mikhail appreciated her offer, but he already knew that Sarge had found his new home. “I could use a roommate. While I fill out the paperwork, would you make a list of everything I’ll need to buy for him?”

  “I’d be glad to. Will you take him with you today or do you want time to get everything set up and then come back for him?”

  “I’ll take him home with me today, if that’s all right. I live on the other side of the mountains.”

  It wasn’t that he’d mind driving the distance again even if he let Lydia think that was the case. No, the real reason he was taking Sarge home with him today was that he couldn’t stand the thought of driving away and leaving Sarge there thinking yet another human had abandoned him.

  “If you’ll come with me, I’ll get you all fixed up.” She smiled down at the dog. “Sarge, you can hang around out here while your new owner signs on the dotted line. It will take a while since his friend Amy is taking her little friend home today, too.”

  Sarge tilted his head to the side as if listening hard to what she had to say. Even so, as Lydia led Mikhail toward her office, Sarge followed along right behind as if he was afraid to let the two humans out of his sight. Before entering the building, Mikhail stopped to talk to the bulldog. “Don’t worry, Sarge. Marines never leave a buddy behind. Starting tonight, you and I will be bunking together.”

  Sarge woofed softly and parked his butt right outside the door to wait. An hour later, four friends headed back over the mountains.

  —

  People rarely called in the middle of the night for happy reasons. Amy’s pulse kicked into overdrive as she snatched up her phone. “What’s wrong?”

  Probably not the best way to start off a conversation, but too late now.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Amy. At least not with me.”

  She hadn’t bothered to check caller ID, so it took her another second to realize that it was Mikhail’s deep voice coming through the line, not someone in her family. But if nothing was wrong, why had he called?

  “Look, I’m sorry if I scared you. It’s just that I saw your lights were still on and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  No, everything wasn’t okay. Her puppy had been crying off and on for hours. She hadn’t gotten more than fifteen minutes of sleep since she’d first turned out the lights. She’d expected it the first night, but Panda had moved in with her three days ago. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could go without sleep.

  “It’s Panda. He hasn’t gotten used to his crate, which means neither of us has been getting much sleep.”

  “Want me and Sarge to come over?”

  She wasn’t sure what the two of them could do to remedy the situation, but right now she was feeling pretty desperate. “Sure. I was about to make some hot chocolate. Want some?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll get dressed and then we’ll be right over.”

  Get dressed? Did that mean he was…no, better not to go there. She headed into the kitchen to put the milk on to heat. That done, she let Panda out of his kennel.

  “Come on, little guy. Might as well take a trip outside while we’re up and about.”

  The puppy wriggled so hard in her arms that she had trouble holding on to him, but they made it out to the backyard without mishap. When he immediately took care of business, she praised him lavishly and carried him back inside. It took everything she had to put him back into his crate, because that set off another round of pitiful cries.

  Her heart was breaking, and so was her resolve. Doing her best to focus on making the hot chocolate, she poured two cups and topped them off with marshmallows before carrying them into the living room and setting them on the coffee table.

  A knock at the front door had her swiping at the tears streaming down her face. Mikhail stepped across her threshold and immediately gathered her into his arms. She was dimly aware of him closing the door and then half-carrying, half-leading her over to the sofa. He sat down and settled her on his lap.

  “Aw, honey, don’t cry.”

  The panicky note in his voice made her smile even if it didn’t quite stop her tears. She’d had her face pressed against his chest, but she lifted her face to look up at him. “What’s the matter? A big, tough marine can’t handle it when a woman cries?”

  He brushed the tears off her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Sure I can, but I don’t like it when my friend is hurting. What can I do to help?”

  “Just coming over is enough. It’s Panda. Poor baby, he cries all night, so I’m not getting any sleep and neither is he. I’m barely making it through the day, and then it starts all over again. I’m doing a terrible job as a dog owner.”

  “He’s quiet now.”

  She lifted her head to listen. He was right. There was nothing but silence coming from the kitchen. Had something happened? Fear for her puppy had her up and heading for the door with Mikhail right behind her.

  One look at what was going on froze her right where she stood. Panda was snuggled up on his blanket right next to the wire door of his crate. That was good news. But the part that warmed the worry right out of her heart was the sight of Sarge snuggled up to it from the outside. Both dogs were sound asleep, their rumbling snores the only noise in the room.

  As the two humans backed away, Sarge lifted his head long enough to give them a bleary-eyed look. Obviously, he had the matter under control and didn’t need their help. Mikhail led her back toward the sofa where he sat down and then tugged her down beside him. Once she was settled, he picked up the two mugs she’d set on the coffee table and held one out to her. “No use in letting good hot chocolate go to waste.”

  She sipped hers and grimaced. “Well, it’s sort of lukewarm chocolate now, but it still tastes good.”

  Mikhail put his feet up on her coffee table. The movement drew her eyes to his long legs and the realization that he was wearing low-slung flannel pajama bottoms and an army drab T-shirt. He hadn’t even bothered with shoes or socks. Her own attire was much the same. Maybe she should have at least put on slippers and a robe, but
she didn’t have the energy to make the effort or care about the proprieties.

  “I’m sorry I worried you.”

  “Not a problem. Sarge and I were up anyway.”

  Why? Was the older bulldog having trouble adjusting to his new home, too? Something to ask when she had the energy to string the words together. She suspected the right thing to do was to let Mikhail and his buddy go back home, but she couldn’t bring herself to make the suggestion. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she needed these few minutes of peace and quiet if she was going to make it through the rest of the night.

  Besides, right now she could barely hold her head up or keep her eyes open. Mikhail must have noticed, because he pried her mug out of her fingers and set it aside. After tucking her in close to his side, he covered them both up with the quilt she kept on the back of the couch for those nights when the air got a bit chilly. Surely she wasn’t being too selfish by dozing off for a few minutes while someone was there to keep an eye on Panda for her. She’d find some way to pay Mikhail back for once again helping her out. Comforted by his warmth and surrounded by his scent, she let the darkness carry her away.

  Chapter 11

  A soft but insistent woof dragged Mikhail out of a dream he was particularly enjoying. In it, he had Amy wrapped up tight in his arms, his face buried in her hair, his hand palming one of her soft breasts. The only downside in the dream was that they weren’t sprawled out on the comfort of his king-sized mattress. Instead, they were twisted up together on something the size of an army cot.

  Another woof, this one sounding a little more desperate, was accompanied by a scratch at the door.

  “Damn it, dog, if you leave claw marks on the woodwork, I won’t be happy.”

  He finally forced his eyes open and started to sit up, only to find himself flailing for balance as he fell off the bed. No, not the bed. The couch. Not his couch, either, but Amy’s. He landed hard and banged his head on the edge of the coffee table on the way down.