New York, Actually (From Manhattan with Love 4)

“Because saying yes to dating a guy you met in the park is a big step. You could be a creepy stalker.”

Fliss walked past, a slice of burned toast in one hand and a coffee in the other. “He borrowed a dog to chat up a girl. He is a creepy stalker.”

Harriet ignored her. “A walk is easy. You don’t have to ma

ke a decision. You simply do it. Dinner is—” She paused, thinking. “Dinner is a commitment.”

“Dinner is not a commitment when the invitation comes from me. I’m inviting her to eat with me, that’s all. Share a meal, not a life.”

“It’s still a step.”

“A step?”

“Yes. Your woman is probably nervous.” The wistful note in Harriet’s voice made him think it was a step she’d love to take herself.

“She’s not my woman.”

“Well, you’d better get her to that point soon, before you no longer have Brutus to walk.”

* * *

He and Brutus arrived at the park at the same time as Molly. Valentine immediately bounded toward Brutus, ecstatic to see his friend.

Molly felt like doing the same. Seeing Daniel again gave her a tiny jolt of shock. The image of him was burned into her brain, and yet in person he seemed bigger, sexier, more of a threat to her emotional equilibrium. A strange lethargy spread through her limbs and she sat down on what she’d come to think of as their bench. Would he ask her to dinner again? Would she accept?

She had no idea. Her mind was a mess.

“Did you know there are around 9,000 benches in Central Park?” She was babbling, but talking was the only way she could break the sudden seam of tension. “I love the dedication plaques. Every bench tells its own story. Look—” She twisted in her seat so that she could read. “To the love of my life, on our wedding day. That’s optimistic, don’t you think? Putting that on a bench is permanent. People are going to carry on reading it forever, so you have to mean what you say. Do you ever wonder about the people behind the inscription?”

“Not until now.” Daniel sat down next to her and handed her a cup of Earl Grey. “If we had a plaque, it would say my dog loves your dog.”

She could feel his leg brushing against hers. The pressure was light, and yet she could feel the hard length of his thigh.

Unsettled by the sudden thrill of sensation, she leaned over and made a fuss over Brutus. “I used to be a bit wary around German shepherds, and he is such a big, macho dog, but he has such a kind nature. I love him.”

“Have you ever considered getting another dog?”

“Why? Are you selling Brutus?” She was joking, but something in his eyes made her think she might have wandered onto sensitive ground. “I was kidding. I can see the attachment between you.”

“You can?”

“Of course. You always look so happy when you’re with him. I feel the same way about Valentine. No matter how bad your day is, it’s pretty hard to be miserable when you have a dog. They cheer you up.”

“That’s true.” He looked surprised, as if it was something that hadn’t occurred to him before.

“And then there’s the fact that you play these weird games that no one else has ever heard of, like Don’t Chase the Stick.”

“That’s weird?”

“Yes, because most people want their dogs to chase the stick. That’s the game.”

“I’m teaching him self-control. And he seems to like it.”

“He likes the praise. It’s cute. When I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were a dog person. You didn’t seem the type.”

He hesitated. “I like dogs.”

“Obviously, or you wouldn’t have Brutus.” And there was something achingly sexy about the way this strong, powerful man handled his dog with such patient, gentle humor. “What happens to him when you’re working?”