A look of confusion clouded his dark eyes. Was he disappointed that I had taken someone else’s name? It was silly, but I certainly hoped so.
He asked, “Bates?”
“Yeah, I sort of got married and divorced while you were gone,” I said, shrugging it off as if I was just explaining a stupid stunt that had gone wrong. “Randall Bates. Not sure if you remember him from high school.”
His eyes told me he did, but he shook his head and forced a smile. His teeth gritted. Shane and Randall hated each other in school. Randall was a year younger and always trying to get the varsity coach to put him in when Shane’s passing wasn’t up to snuff, which rarely happened even though his back and ribs were usually covered in bruises.
He quickly put Randall out of his mind and took my hands and held them out to look at me. “Wow, you look… amazing,” he said. “I remember you loved animals, but I had no idea you were interested in becoming a vet.”
“Yeah, well, neither did I until halfway through med school,” I said, smiling at him, rolling my eyes like an idiot. I let go of his hands and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “So, what are you doing home… Oh shit… your mom… Shane, I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, it’s okay,” he said, his round shoulders going up and down. “I’m just here to get her house sold and then get back to work.” He had black tribal tattoos coming down his thick biceps from inside his tight shirt sleeves. I wondered if they went across his shoulders and back. I wondered if he’d let me see them if I asked. I wondered if he’d let me touch them, lick them…
He was even more handsome than the last time I saw him all those years ago. Just a cute boy then, he was now an amazing looking man. His dark hair was buzzed short. His face was tanned like dark honey, but his eyes were soft and brown and his smile warm and inviting. He had packed on the muscle. His chest and shoulders and biceps looked like they were about to burst from the tight black t-shirt. He had on a pair of tight jeans and worn cowboy boots. I couldn’t help but glance at the bulge going down his right thigh.
“Work?” I forced my eyes to focus on his face. “What kind of work?”
“I’m still in the Navy,” he said, holding out his left bicep and tugging up the sleeve to show me the large tattoo of an eagle perched on a ship’s anchor holding a trident and an
old timey pistol in its talons. “Captain Shane Mavic, US Navy SEALS. At your service, ma’am.”
“Wow, look at you,” I said, slapping at his arm like a flirty teenager. It was like hitting a boulder. “I thought you hated the water.”
“I did,” he said with a smile that made my heart flutter. “Still do. But I have learned to deal with it.”
“Wow,” I said again, because I couldn’t think of a better word. “So, you’re here to pick up your mother’s dog?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could just keep it and do something with it,” he said, making it sound like he was asking me to take out the trash. “I’m not really a dog lover and I can’t take it back to Iraq, so—”
“Here you go, Mr. Mavic!”
Shane looked up just as Wendy shoved the little white Maltese in his arms. Biscuit immediately climbed his round chest, making her way to his face so she could lick his chin. Shane grabbed her around the middle and held her out like she was a baby with a dirty diaper.
“Oh my god, Shane, she’s not going to bite you,” I said, giggling at him. I took Biscuit and cuddled her to my chest. The six-pound Maltese wouldn’t take her eyes off Shane. Her tail wagged to beat the band as if she could sense that he was the son of her beloved mistress.
“Like I said, I’m not much of a dog lover,” he said, wiping dog spit off his chin with the back of his hand. He gave me a pleading look. “Can you find her a home? I mean, I’ll pay for her boarding and food until you do.”
“Wendy, do we have anyone looking to adopt a small dog?” I asked.
“Not that I know of,” Wendy said, her eyes bouncing between me and Shane. I could hear the gossip gears turning in her head. “And I’m afraid we can’t keep her in boarding because we are fully booked this weekend.” She looked at Shane and sighed. “You’ll have to take care of her until Monday.”
“What?” Shane looked like he was about to argue, but then blew out a long breath and started to nod. “Okay, um, exactly how do I do that?”
“Do what?” I asked as I shoved Biscuit back into his arms.
“Take care of a dog?”
“Such a helpless boy,” I said, teasing him like I used to when we were kids. I took a step closer and scratched Biscuit behind the ear. Shane was staring at me. I could feel his eyes caressing my skin. “Tell you what, why don’t I come by your place after we close and bring Biscuit with me. I’ll also bring a dog bed and enough dog food to get you through the weekend. Maybe by Monday we can find her a permanent home. I assume you’re staying at your parents’ old house?”
“You wanna come to the house?” Shane asked slowly. I could see the same look of hesitation that clouded his eyes when I brought up the subject of coming to his house when we were kids. Even though his daddy had been dead for years, Clint Mavic’s ghost still haunted his son’s thoughts.
I took Biscuit from him and cradled her to my chest. I brushed little white dog hairs from the front of his shirt with my fingertips. I saw his nipples harden beneath the thin material. I felt my nipples plump in my bra. I could feel the heat of his body radiating through my fingertips. I could feel hot moisture pooling between my legs. I resisted the urge to glance down at his bulge. I could feel Wendy behind me, watching us like a hawk.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” he said, his eyes studying mine.
“It’s not a bother.” I gave him a coy look, trying to put him as ease. “You are staying at your parents’ old house, correct?”
“Yes. On Dilbeck.”