He wasn’t running. He still wanted to get to know her. Relief rushed through her as that truth settled in. “Right. The shelter. When I got out of the hospital, medicated and more in control of myself, I needed a job. I’d bought Waffles during one of my manic phases, but she gave me focus in those early days. And I realized that’s what I was good at. Dealing with animals. I started walking the neighbors’ dogs, turned that into a business, and found the shelter job, too.”
“You found your calling.” His hand remained on the back of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth. What started as comfort was fast turning to sexual awareness.
It had never taken much with Julian in the past. A look. A kiss. And they’d duck into the nearest coat closet in a hotel, lock a single-person restroom and go at it there. The doctors explained her heightened sexual need was part of her illness, but she had to admit, she wanted him still.
She tilted her head and met his gaze. “I guess I’m the female dog whisperer.” She grinned.
“You’re certainly my whisperer,” he said in a husky voice, his face close to hers.
His mossy-green eyes grew darker, and she thought he was going to kiss her. Her body was primed and ready, her heart beating inside her chest, her sex damp. Just from the thought of a public kiss.
&nbs
p; She pulled in a deep breath, and he moved in, sliding his nose along the side of hers. “Nothing you said changed my mind,” he whispered. “I want a second chance.”
It wasn’t a claiming of her mouth; it was so much more. But she had reservations. “I don’t know. There’s so much … pain between us.”
But the man in front of her wasn’t the same guy she’d known. She felt it deep in her gut.
“How about we just get to know each other again? No pressure.”
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Well, tomorrow night I’m going for dinner at a very good friend’s house. You spoke to him on the phone. Nick Cantone. He’s also my AA sponsor. An alcoholic.” He paused a beat, letting that piece of information sink in before going on.
“I have dinner with his family on Sunday nights, and I’d like it very much if you came with me. Getting to know them will help you get to know me.”
In his expression, she saw a vulnerability that was new. A fear she would reject him. He hadn’t run at her big revelation. She wasn’t about to run at his.
AA. Alcoholics Anonymous. He’d mentioned that once before, in the car when he’d apologized. He, too, was working on his issues. She didn’t have to think twice about her answer.
“I’d love to come.” She didn’t know what she was getting herself into, but she couldn’t deny she wanted to find out.
The rest of the afternoon didn’t involve anything serious in the way of conversation. Instead they talked about his job, the building of his business, and the surprises involved with adopting a pet.
He picked up a stick and threw it. Steve ran for the object and brought it back to Julian. “Good boy!” He petted the dog on his head. “All that ball tossing in the apartment paid off.” He glanced at Kendall. “I throw toward the bathroom. He’s got room to run and retrieve.”
“I’m impressed.” She picked up a different stick and tried the same thing with Waffles.
The fluffy dog ran, picked up the stick, lay down, and began chewing on it.
“Terriers,” Kendall muttered. “They have a stubborn mind of their own.”
Julian laughed. “She definitely does her own thing.” He met her gaze, laughter in the green depths. “This has been fun,” he said. “We should do it again.”
Pleasure suffused her at his suggestion. “Because the dogs are now best friends?” She gestured to where the two pets were now tussling for the same stick.
“That’s one reason. And because, like I said, I want us to be more.”
* * *
Julian headed to pick up Kendall for his dinner at the Cantones’. Every time he recalled her agreeing to join him, he released a breath and sat up straighter, knowing he’d accomplished something important during their trip to the dog park. He’d gotten her back into his life.
Baby steps, he thought, the whole experience putting him on edge. What did he know about taking it slow? Baring his soul? But he was doing it, wasn’t he? She was joining him for what would be as close to a family dinner as he could have.
He’d never known his father, who’d abandoned the family when Julian was nine and his sister, Alyssa, was one. They hadn’t gotten along anyway, except clearly they’d gotten together, because Alyssa was an oops baby, as his mother liked to say. His mother had turned into a functioning alcoholic, as Julian thought of her. She’d worked and raised her children, but alcohol was her crutch and always in her system.
Julian had sworn he’d never let a substance dictate how he lived or behaved. Damned ironic. That was exactly what he’d done. His mother’s trigger had been his father’s leaving. Julian’s trigger had been his sister’s accident. Not something he liked to think about, but he’d dealt with it enough, so for now he pushed that thought away and focused on the night ahead.