Page 34 of Here With You

“Seems to me you would benefit from your own advice. Emmaline wouldn’t even marry you.”

“Years ago, that might have had the painful impact you were looking for, but I’m immune to your form of torture. As for Emmaline … she made a smart decision, or her father did. They sent me away, but I grew up and became a better man. It will be for all the right reasons when I win her back.”

“Win her back?” Darryl laughed. “Hell will freeze over before that happens.”

“Better get your coat. I feel a storm coming our way.” He continued toward the house. “Have a good night, Darryl.”

Ollie was waiting by the door when he entered. Next to him was a pile of left shoes.

“What have you been up to?” The dog laid down and covered his snout with his paws. “Where did you get these?”

When he adopted Ollie from the pound, his original name was Houdini because the previous owner swore he could walk through walls. Miles had seen none of that behavior until this moment. He looked at the pile of shoes and saw everything from children’s sandals to an adult bunny slipper. Somehow Ollie had escaped, and while he was having dinner, his dog was collecting trophies.

“You’re a kleptomaniac. What am I going to do with you?”

He knew exactly what he had to do tonight. He needed to hide the evidence. He was finally on Emmaline’s good side, and he wasn’t letting his thieving dog change that.

He gathered the half dozen shoes and walked out the door. He’d plant a few around the resort, put a couple in lost and found at The Kessler, and leave the next two on the steps of The Brown for someone else to find.

He felt like a burglar, tiptoeing through the grounds, and surreptitiously hiding Ollie’s treasures. As he walked back, the culprit rushed over with his tail wagging.

“How did you get out of the house?” He swore he’d shut the door but supposed he might have left it open a tad. “You need to be good because we’re a team, and if one of us gets kicked off the premises, we both have to go. That means no Emmaline for me and no lost and found rejects for you.” He looked into Ollie’s eyes and somehow knew the dog understood him. “You want to help me paint?”

Ollie’s bark said it all. He was game for anything as long as they were together.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Emmaline showed up at Miles's place at six-thirty in the morning with a plate of warm mini quiche and two cups of coffee. With no free hands, she kicked the door several times, hoping the muted thump would wake him. Way back when, he slept like the dead, but so had she, and nowadays, she woke to the slightest sound.

The loud woof on the other side meant Ollie was a light sleeper or had a keen sense of smell and picked up on the quiche. After several minutes, she heard Miles talking to the dog like a human, asking him who could be on the other side, and if they were waking him at the crack of dawn, they’d better have coffee.

When he opened the door, she smiled. “Room service.” She stared at the dog, hoping her stern look kept him at bay.

When she glanced at Miles, she found him shirtless with zipped but unbuttoned jeans that appeared to hang precariously on his hips. Miles was a handsome man, and she didn't imagine he'd spent a lot of mornings waking up alone. Just the thought made her heart ache.

“Now, this is the best wake-up call I've had in a long time,” he said

“I would have thought you'd wake up to women on the regular. Breakfast in bed and kisses and all that.” She moved past him and went straight to the kitchen, where she freed her hands by setting everything on the table. She opened several cupboards before she found small plates and took one out for him.

“I get slobbery ones daily from Ollie, but he's not much of a snuggler.” He moved to the table and sat, where she joined him. He picked up a cup of coffee and tested it for heat. When he found it drinkable, he closed his eyes and drank deeply. A rumbling sound of satisfaction slipped from his lips, and she swore it headed straight for her core. “Do you remember how nice it was to spoon?” He dug into the mini quiche, popping a whole one into his mouth.

“I remember.” She sipped her coffee and stared at him, recalling how his lips made her burn with passion. She was half grateful and mostly annoyed that Darryl showed up when things were getting good on the water last night. “I also remember you snore.”

He chuckled. “Have you ever heard of hertz healing sounds? My snore is perfectly tuned to 417 Hz, which reduces stress. Sleeping with me is like having a personal Zen master.”

“Sleeping with you is like bedding a freight train.”

He smiled. “I'll take that. When I think of trains, I think about endurance and those long-haul trips. Some of them are so long they—”

She held up her hand. “I get it.” She touched her cheek, hoping the heat didn't show in a blush. Since when did she blush at sexual innuendo? “I didn't come to talk about your train.”

“I think you did. You're the one who brought it up.” He picked up another quiche and popped it into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed and pointed to her. “You're not having any?”

“I ate an hour ago. I let you sleep in.” She woke at four-thirty, and it killed her to wait until six-thirty to knock on his door. It seemed a reasonable time, and she brought him breakfast, which she considered payment for the early hour.“The birds have been up since four.”

He shook his head. “I'm not a bird. Besides, I was up until midnight painting the living room.”

She lifted her nose and inhaled. There was a hint of something sitting in the air, but it didn't smell like paint. “All I smell is dog breath and quiche.” She glanced down at Ollie, who sat obediently beside her, staring at her shoes and drooling. “You are a good boy. You didn't plow me over today when I arrived.”

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