Tempted by the Wrong Twin (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 8)

Harper gave Frank a hello pat and waved to Steve. Once they were outside, she said, “I’ve never seen any of the guards here provide dog-sitting before.”

“We knew each other in high school. Besides, he’s a navy vet, and when I told him Frank’s story, he offered to help out with him if we needed it.”

He didn’t need help for Frank, but he’d been thinking about organizing some fund-raising for a charity he’d read about that looked after the dogs of military personnel while they were on deployment. Maybe he’d come back another day and see if Steve was interested in getting involved as well.

“So,” Harper said when they reached his car, “I’m guessing with Frank tagging along, we’re not going to a fancy restaurant?”

He opened the back door, and Frank jumped in, turned a couple of times and lay down.

“If it’s okay with you—” Nick closed Frank’s door and turned to Harper “—I had the kitchen at the TCC clubhouse put together a gourmet picnic basket.”

Her eyes lit up. “That sounds perfect.”

Feeling pretty happy that he’d planned something for their first date that put that look in her eyes, he held her door as she slid into her seat, then rounded the car and settled in on the driver’s side. Before he started the ignition, he reached for her hand again.

“I want to show you a special place. We might not make it back in the hour that Malcolm allots for lunch, but we shouldn’t be too late.”

“As you pointed out,” she said, grinning, “I have quite a bit of vacation saved up, so a little late will be fine.”

Nick drove them to a spot just outside town that not many people knew about. It was pretty much still in its natural state, with a small waterfall—nothing too spectacular, but the rhythmic sound of the water was one of the few things that helped center him. And he wanted to share that with her.

He parked, let Frank out and grabbed the picnic basket and a blanket from the trunk while Harper took in the setting.

“This place is amazing,” she said, resting her hands on her hips, watching the waterfall. “I’ve never been here. How did you know about it?”

His lungs cramped tight. He’d known the question was coming—anyone would have asked in this situation—yet it still managed to blindside him. He carefully took a breath, then another. Harper turned curious eyes to him.

He cleared his throat and gave half an answer. “I’ve been coming here for years. Sometimes there are other people, especially on weekends, but often it’s deserted.”

“Well, I love it.” She smiled, seemingly satisfied with only half an answer, and his lungs released their tension, allowing him to draw in blissful gulps of fresh air.

Frank trotted over, sniffed around a little and relieved himself on a tree trunk, then came back to where Nick was setting up the blanket and curled up on a corner. Watching the simple, practical movements of his dog helped Nick regain his equilibrium.

Harper slipped off her heels, knelt on the blanket and helped unpack the basket. She held up a small container of mixed olives. “This all looks fabulous. Did you choose the food?”

“I left that to the clubhouse kitchen.” He reached in and came out with a sealed plastic bag that contained a silver bowl, a small bottle of spring water, some dog treats and a ball. He chuckled. He’d asked for a picnic basket, and when they’d asked how many were going, he’d said just him and his wife. He’d added, “And my dog,” as an afterthought, simply because he liked saying he had a dog, not thinking they’d include anything for Frank. It was nice of them. He appreciated attention to detail in customer service—he’d have to send them another tip later.

He poured the water into the silver bowl and offered it to Frank, along with one of the treats. The Labrador sniffed the treat then carefully took it from him and chewed. It tore at his heart that Frank still felt the need to be so careful about everything.

Gaze on his dog, Nick casually said, “I’ve been wondering something.”

As Harper pulled the last contents from the basket—china plates and thick, luxurious napkins—and laid them out, she threw him a look over her shoulder. “It just so happens that plying me with delicious food is a good way to get me to answer just about anything.”

He grinned. “I’ll file that away for future reference.”

She settled back on the blanket, stretched her long legs out in front of her and leaned back, resting her weight on her hands. “What do you want to know?”

“The other day you said you’d heard about a dog and we had to rescue him.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, her tone noncommittal.

He reached over and rubbed Frank’s soft ears. “How, exactly, did you hear about him?”

“Ah.” She busied herself serving food onto their plates. He wasn’t sure if it was a strategy to avoid eye contact or not, so he waited until she sat back and met his gaze. “Well, to be honest—”

“Always the best policy,” he interjected, amused.

“—I called the Royal Safe Haven Animal Shelter and asked Megan to tell me about their special needs dogs. She ran through a few, then when she mentioned Frank’s history, I asked her to hold him for us.”