The Write Man Page 6

  Nick drew her against him, shifted them both until she lay across his lap and in his arms, her body open to his hands and mouth, drawing both like moth to flame. Their lips and tongues played hungry games, and he tasted the skin at the precipice of her jaw and below her ear, the alabaster column of her throat and the staccato pulse at its base. Merry gripped her hands in his hair and drew his mouth back to hers, desperate, it seemed, for more. The lady liked kissing, and Nick was happy to give her what she wanted, even as his hands explored the flushed softness of her body. She arched against him, and he thought he might explode with need.

  Thunder boomed. Its vibration quivered through the villa, rattling the walls and flickering the lights.

  The small dog yelped and jumped onto the couch. She scrambled across the cushions to invade the closeness of her human companions.

  “Oh, poor baby,” Merry said to the terrified dog, and much to Nick’s chagrin, she abandoned him to cuddle the pooch.

  “She’s so scared,” Merry said, shifting from Nick’s lap to sit beside him with the dog in her arms. “Poor little thing. I wonder how long she was on her own.”

  Nick stared at the dog that had just tossed the equivalent of a cold shower on the mood and ruined his evening, but couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at the little fluff-ball. He stroked the animal’s shaking body and murmured low, calming words, knowing it would take more than human petting to ease her innate fears, but hoping to impart what little comfort might be offered by it.

  “She’s lucky you found her,” he said.

  Merry turned her attention from the dog to Nick, and her dimple popped into view. The blue of her eyes deepened as she watched him comfort the dog.

  “Thanks for inviting us to stay.”

  She laid her hand against his cheek and found his lips with hers. Nick smiled against the softness of her mouth and delivered a kiss he hoped she’d remember days later.

  It was clear that whatever mood had sent her into his arms had shifted, so he settled for simply drawing her against him and the trembling dog with her. He had promised that his invitation for her to stay came with no expectations, and he meant it, not that he wasn’t disappointed by the sudden change in activities. But there was something about Merry that brought out the best in him.

  And she trusted him.

  He buried his guilt, kissed the top of her head, and settled in to wait out the storm.

  ***

  Sunshine beamed through the villa windows, kissing Merry’s face. She kept her eyes closed and snuggled deeper into the warmth enfolding her, becoming aware by slow degrees that she was pressed between two breathing bodies.

  Without moving, she opened her eyes and stared across the broad expanse of Nick’s chest. Her hand rested over his heart and rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing. The paleness of her skin stood out against the faded black of his tee shirt. Along her spine, the little dog lay sandwiched between her and the sofa, emitting soft snores and occasional twitches.

  There was no help for it. She would either have to wait them out or risk waking them to move, and considering she had to pee, it was going to be the latter.

  She needn’t have worried. The minute she removed herself both man and dog shifted. Nick turned on his side facing the back of the couch. The dog stretched onto her back, still sandwiched between human and sofa cushions, paws up. She emitted a mighty snore. Nick didn’t even twitch.

  Merry afforded herself a moment to appreciate the picture they made, Nick and the white ball of fluff. Her gaze settled on Nick’s jaw, now shadowed with morning whiskers, and it was enough to tighten her belly. She hoped he didn’t wake up before she returned from the bathroom, because she was curious to know what color his eyes would be when he opened them. Green? Gold? Amber? What was his morning color, and would it match his mood? And what might that be? Whatever it was, she didn’t want to miss it, so she kept her bathroom visit brief—although she did take time to brush her teeth and comb her messy hair. Better than nothing.

  She dropped her toothbrush and comb back into the overnight bag, gave herself one last glance in the mirror, and tiptoed down the hall to the living area. The couch was empty of dog and man.

  A breeze swirled in from the open French doors. Merry followed it out to where Nick stood on the patio, hands in his pockets, yawning, and waiting for the dog to finish doing her thing.

  “Good morning,” Merry said. Heat flushed her cheeks the moment Nick turned her way.

  Gold. His morning color was gold.

  The Gulf breeze ruffled Nick’s hair and rustled through the bushes and palm trees. Merry smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. Nick smiled back.

  “Looks like everything is intact out here in spite of the storm,” he said, and nodded at the dog. “She’s sniffing around like she owns the place.”

  “It’s funny, isn’t it, how fast things can change? I mean, yesterday, she was lost and abandoned, hungry, scared. Now look at her. Clean and fed, well rested.” Merry smiled up at Nick. “What a big difference a few hours can make.”

  Nick slid his knuckles across her cheek, a gentle stroke, and her cheeks flamed hotter from the skin-to-skin contact.

  “Thank you for last night,” she managed to say through a throat constricted by a leaping pulse. She hoped he understood the broad brushstroke of the statement. Thank you for taking us in, thank you for being kind, thank you for not pressing your advantage—thank you, thank you, thank you.

  “Happy to help.” He bent to scoop up the dog when she trotted over and gave him a happy woof. Nick laughed and turned his face to dodge the dog’s tongue. He pet the curling fur on top of the animal’s head and grinned at Merry. She lost herself in the sparkling gold of his eyes.

  “Be careful,” said Sunbloom. “You’re going too fast.”

  “One platonic night does not a hero make,” Skyblossom said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Anyone can be nice for a few hours. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “Whatever you do,” Moonflower warned, “don’t fall in love.”

  Merry looked at Nick and melted beneath the warmth of his smile.

  “Oh, no,” said Sunbloom, shaking her head. “She’s a goner.”

  Chapter 8

  Merry perused the photos of dogs and cats hanging in the exam room at the veterinarian’s office. The dogs had tongues lolling from smiling doggie lips, the cats looked simultaneously spoiled, regal, and adorable, and they all stared from the frames with soulful eyes that would make all but the hardest of hearts yearn for a pet of their own. She glanced at the door when the vet tech returned to the room with the dog in tow.

  “Well,” the young woman said, handing the leash to Merry, “the good news is that she’s chipped, and we called the specified number. The bad news is that the person who answered the phone is the grandson of the original pet owner, and he doesn’t want the dog back. He said her name is Chula, she’s an old dog—about ten—and he inherited her when his grandmother went into Seaside Hearts, an assisted living facility in Bonita Springs. The dog got loose and ran away shortly after.”

  “So, what am I supposed to do?” Merry asked.

  The woman shrugged. “That’s up to you. I can give you the numbers to shelters, if you want to go that route. Or you could keep her. She’s a purebred Havanese.”

  Merry squatted next to the dog and smoothed the soft fur on top of the animal’s head. The dog stared into her eyes and wagged her tail.

  “So, your name is Chula. I guess you have a new home with me, because no way am I bringing you to a shelter. What do you think? You okay with this?”

  Chula leapt at Merry as she had done the day before in the convenience store parking lot, knocking her backward onto her butt. Like yesterday, Chula’s body was shaking, but this time it was due to her wagging tail.

  “I’d say Chula likes her new companion,” Nick said.

  Merry looked up at him, laughing and dodging Chula’s tongue on her face. “I’d say so.”

/>   “Here’s the name and number of her veterinarian in Bonita Springs,” said the vet tech, handing Merry a slip of paper. “We checked with them, and she’s not due for shots until February. A lady by the name of Ruth Canton was the original dog owner, and the vet said she doted on this little fur-baby. Anyway, you’ll probably want to have them send her records to your vet at home.”

  “I don’t have a vet,” Merry said, accepting Nick’s hand to help her stand. “Guess I’ll have to find one, though. Thanks for all your help.”

  “No problem. Enjoy the rest of your day,” the vet tech said and left the room.

  Merry scooped Chula into her arms and rubbed her nose in the silky fur on top of the dog’s head. “You need a collar and leash, missy,” she said. Chula licked her chin.“Hey,” Nick said. “Do you think it would be inappropriate to bring the dog to see the old woman? We can call Seaside Hearts first, ask if it would be acceptable. That way she can see for herself that Chula is alive and well and being cared for. Just a thought.” He shrugged. “Then again, it might upset her. What do you think?”“That you’re incredibly thoughtful,” Merry said, her heart melting. “That’s a fantastic idea, and it can’t hurt to call the facility and ask. Bonita Springs isn’t too far. And listen, Nick, you don’t have to come along if you don’t want to. Between last night and today, I feel like I’ve hijacked your vacation,” Merry said. She held her breath when he took her face in his hands.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Ms. Sunjoy, I’m not complaining.”

  “You’re a good man, Nick Brubaker.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I hope you still feel that way after you get to know me better. Let’s go. We have a reunion to arrange.”

  ***

  Merry and Nick followed Brenda Yancy, director of Seaside Hearts Assisted Living Facility, past a bright atrium area and down a short hallway toward double doors that led outside. Food odors wafting from the dining room at the end of the hallway mingled with the citrusy scent of cleaning supplies. A common area hosted a widescreen television that held the attention of a group of elderly men focused on the Golf Channel.

  “I’ve already told Ruth you were coming,” Brenda said, her graying bob swinging across her shoulders as she pushed through the doors to a walkway lined with blooming hibiscus. Her rubber-soled shoes moved with soundless authority across the cement pavers. “She lit up when I told her you were bringing Chula. She was heartbroken when her grandson broke the news to her that the dog was gone.”

  Chula squirmed in Merry’s arms, and Merry set the dog down now that they were outdoors but held tight to the leash snapped to Chula’s new pink-gemstone collar.

  Brenda led them down the paved walkway that cut through the lawn and circled a small pond. The grassy area provided picnic tables and benches, and the space was dotted with residents enjoying the sunshine and clear sky after last night’s storm.

  “Over here,” Brenda said, and strode toward a lady sitting in an Adirondack chair a few feet off the walkway in the grass near the pond. A walker stood beside the chair.

  Brenda bent to touch the woman’s arm. “Ruth, your guests are here.”

  The old lady turned her head, her wrinkled face alight with pleasure. The rhinestone comb holding her snowy hair in an elegant French twist glittered in the sun. Her mouth formed an “oh” before she clapped her hands and cried out, “It’s true! You’ve found my Chula!”

  At the sound of Ruth’s voice, Chula strained against the leash. Merry jogged with the dog to where the older woman sat. Chula stood on her hind legs, tail wagging, her front paws a stark white against the teal linen covering Ruth’s thin legs. Ruth laughed and cupped the dog’s bearded muzzle between her manicured hands, bending as far as she could to get closer to the dog.

  “Oh, look at you! I’ve missed you so, you little rascal,” Ruth cooed to Chula. “Lift her into my lap, won’t you?” she said to Nick, beaming.

  “She’ll muddy your nice capris,” warned Brenda.

  “Won’t be the first time,” Ruth said, reaching for the dog. She laughed while Chula rained happy kisses on her face. The dog settled into her lap for a few moments of petting, then jumped down to sniff the grass.

  “You must be Merry and Nick,” Ruth said, wiping her eyes and turning her full attention toward them. “Thank you so much for bringing Chula to see me. I thought I’d never see her again. She was my constant companion for a long time. Good to meet you both.”

  “I’ve got to get back to the office, but I’ll leave you to have a nice visit,” Brenda said. She squeezed Ruth’s shoulder, and Ruth smiled and reached up to pat Brenda’s hand before Brenda walked away.

  “Brenda’s a nice lady,” Ruth said after Nick pulled up a couple of chairs for himself and Merry. “So, tell me how you found my Chula. I was so upset to learn she ran off. It isn’t like her, you know. She’s usually so well behaved.”

  Merry explained the circumstances of Chula’s rescue while Chula herself curled into a quiet ball at Ruth’s feet.

  “Lucky for her you were paying attention,” Ruth said. “I was heartbroken to leave my Chula, you know. But we aren’t allowed to keep pets here.”

  “I promise to take good care of her for you,” Merry said, imparting as much positivity into her voice as she could manage. Her heart ached for this old woman who was forced to deliver the care of her beloved pet to another.

  “Oh, I can tell that you will. I’m a good judge of character.” Her lips, brightened by pink lipstick, curved in a wry smile. “Which is why I was not happy that my grandson was the one adopting my Chula. He’s a real putz, that one.”

  Merry raised her brows in surprise, but Nick laughed outright.

  Ruth laughed with him and offered an elegant shrug that made her sapphire earrings dance. “Well, he is. But look at how well things turned out. I can see that you’ve spoiled Chula already.” She glanced down at the little dog and blinked back sudden tears. “Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. And now, let’s chat! I want to hear all about the two of you. I don’t get many visitors here, you know.” She smoothed her coiffed hair with her hands and glanced sideways at a few of the other residents with a wave and a wink. “Tell me something juicy so I have something to gossip about at dinner.”

  Chapter 9

  Nick checked his text messages for what seemed the hundredth time. Phoebe was driving him crazy.

  You have to keep this going! Don’t be a slacker! I promised Ms. Sunjoy’s agent that you’d respond before the day is over. So where is Scurvy Rickets?! Tweet, my darling! Tweet!!

  Two seconds later came another:

  Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! Team Beanbottom wants a response from their fearless leader!

  “Goodness. Someone wants to talk to you very badly,” Merry said. “Go ahead and make a phone call. I don’t mind.” She drew an olive into her mouth and sipped her dirty martini.

  Nick shook his head as he tapped a response on his phone.

  How many times do I have to tell you I’m in the middle of a dinner with M Sunjoy? Bug me again and I’ll shut off my phone. Please. Stop. Call you later.

  Nick tapped ‘send’ and looked at Merry. “It’s my agent, Phoebe Rice. She’s pushing me to do something I don’t want to do, and she’s relentless. I can’t really complain about that aspect of her personality, because it’s part of what makes her a great agent. But right now she’s being a pain. I’ll deal with her later.”

  “Phoebe Rice? She was at the top of my A-list when I finished my first Foundling Faeries book, but she stopped accepting new clients before I even had the chance to query her. I didn’t realize she repped writers like you—columnists, I mean. I thought she only took on fiction writers. My agent is Walter Weiderman. Walter is okay, but he’s only responsive when he wants something. It’s frustrating,” Merry said, and laughed when Nick’s cell beeped again. He groaned and glanced at the message.

  It takes two seconds to shoot off a tweet, but fine, fine! You win! Enjoy dinner! But
remember you’re dining in an enemy camp! Gather intel on her plans for this ongoing battle! Rickets must win! Sales up! Or should that be sails up? Haha. Call me later. Xo

  “She’s ridiculous,” Nick murmured with a soft laugh, and shut off his phone. Just because Phoebe had signed off didn’t mean she wouldn’t get antsy and text him again in another five minutes. He tucked the device into his pants pocket as the waiter delivered two martinis.

  “Will you be okay to drive?” Merry asked.

  “Yes. I won’t have another, and by the time we finish our dinner I’ll be fine to drive. Relax, Ms. Sunjoy. They haven’t even delivered our appetizer yet.”

  “Sorry for being a mother hen.” Merry sipped her drink and leaned down to pet Chula who sat leaning against Merry’s leg. The dog appeared to be keeping an eye on the foot traffic beyond the wrought iron fence separating the patio dining area of the restaurant from the sidewalk. “I worry about stuff like that. My mother—” She looked at Nick and shrugged. “She died in a car accident—drugs, drinking, and driving. I can’t tell you how many accidents she got into before that. She certainly didn’t care about the danger to other drivers, and it never seemed to bother her to have me and my sister in the car either.”

  “I understand. My father was an alcoholic who had no concerns about getting behind the wheel. I don’t drive drunk. If I’m impaired, I’ll call a taxi or Uber. And I would never put anyone else at risk. You’re safe with me, Merry Sunjoy.”

  Nick leaned forward and rested his hand over Merry’s, gave hers a gentle squeeze.

  “Have you heard from your sister today?” Nick asked.

  Merry shook her head. “No. But I’m sure Ben would call if there was a problem or her condition worsened. This is on the heels of a second miscarriage, so they’re emotionally wrung out at this point.”