The Best Next Thing

And it was bizarre, but the more she looked at him, the less ordinary he appeared. Nothing about him had changed and yet, from one breath to the next, he had transformed into something utterly beautiful. She didn’t understand how it had happened…but now when she looked at him, all she could see was a dangerously attractive man, with striking eyes, strong features, and an irresistible smile.

Right now, he was using that smile on Stormy who was still on her back, her tongue lolling from her grinning mouth. His eyes, usually so unfathomable were soft with affection.

“You know you’ve been bad, don’t you, you naughty little bitch? That’s why you’re flirting with me like this.”

For a shocking moment Charity absolutely believed the words were aimed at her, and she didn’t quite know how to react to them. But good sense reasserted itself seconds later, and she coughed to cover up her irrational misconception.

The sound drew his notice, and he eyed her curiously.

“Sorry,” she coughed again, for emphasis, and circled her forefinger in front of her neck. “Ahem, frog in my throat.”

“Do you need some water?” His eyes were grave with the beginnings of concern.

“I’m good. Thanks. You never raise your voice at her,” she said, thinking it prudent to change the subject. “Even when she frustrates you or disobeys you.”

“Of course not,” he responded, sounding shocked. The thought of raising his voice to the dog had clearly never occurred to him. “That would scare her.”

Such a simple answer. And yet it said so much about his character.

His eyes roamed around her small home again, and landed on her textbooks and notepad on the kitchen table. She had been studying when Stormy had bounded into the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Paperwork,” she lied. This was too personal, something she hadn’t shared even with her family. But she had kept up with her studies, and continued to pay for her practice number, in the hopes that she could one day step into the career that she had abandoned in favor of Blaine.

“Paperwork?”

“Yes.” She hoped he would respect the finality in her voice and not probe any further.

“Okay.” A long pause before he dislodged some of the gravel in his throat and refocused his attention to the snoozing dog on the floor. “Come on, Monster Mutt, it’s bedtime. I’m sorry for the intrusion, Charity.”

Her throat went dry at the sound of her name in that quiet, gruff voice but this time she didn’t protest his use of it. There was no point in clinging to that extra layer of decorum. It had been hard enough thinking of him as Mr. Hollingsworth before his dog began bringing her his underwear as gifts.

“I didn’t mind,” she said, feeling her lips tilt upward in a small smile. It had been so long since she had smiled spontaneously that the movement felt unfamiliar. “She was just being friendly.”

“I didn’t think you liked her. Well, dogs in general actually.”

“I like dogs. But I didn’t think it was prudent to become too attached to her. In case you changed your mind.”

There was a short, awkward silence and Charity wondered if she had offended him.

“Why would I change my mind?”

“You’re a busy man. I thought maybe, after you had time to think about it, you’d decide you didn’t have the time for a puppy

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“I’ve come to appreciate that. And I apologize for the unfair assumption.”

He looked uncomfortable and acknowledged her apology with a curt nod. He bent to scoop Stormy up, and Charity felt a pang of envy as the dog snuggled against that strong, beautiful, naked chest.

“Have a good night, Charity.”

“You too.”

He turned to leave, but Charity spotted the abandoned cotton boxer briefs on her sofa and grabbed them without thinking.

“Miles.”

He whirled around at the sound of his name. His intense gaze honed in on her face.

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget these.” His eyes dropped to her hand and his cheeks actually flushed.

“Christ,” he muttered, and yanked the underwear from her hand. “I’m so sorry. Truly. They’re clean, I put them out to wear after my shower.”

“You do know that I do your laundry, right?” He seemed so charmingly flustered that she couldn’t resist teasing him. He shot her an appalled look, his face a study in consternation and mortification.

“Fuck…I…goodnight.”

“Goodnight…sir.” Oh, she was feeling so damned brave. She already knew that this blushing, near naked man, with the puppy clutched to his chest didn’t scare her. And now she was testing the limits of her courage by teasing him. She couldn’t remember the last time she had teased a man. Or just enjoyed being around one.

“Watch it, Mrs. Cole. Or I may ask you to teach me how to make pancakes tomorrow.”

“I can do that.” The impulsive words were out before she could stop them. But when she considered them, she recognized that she was happy enough with the offer. She was even looking forward to it.