“Um . . . you outgrew it?” she asked.

  “Bullshit.” He turned to Sienne.

  Sienne shook her head at Hannah and then moved to Caleb. She squatted low to pet Lollipop, who surprised everyone by affecting a protective stance in front of Caleb and growling low in her throat.

  Sienne didn’t take it personally. She smiled and rose. “She doesn’t want another woman touching her man.”

  “I’ve known her all of two days,” Caleb said. “It’s not that—” Before he could finish the sentence, Lollipop sat on his feet.

  “Cute,” Hannah said. “She’s claimed you.”

  Out of patience, he shook his head. “One of you has a business MBA and the other was third in her law class. I want answers.”

  “Okay, fine,” Sienne said. “You were allergic to everything back then. You eventually outgrew most of your allergies. It was more that a dog didn’t fit our lifestyle.”

  He stared at her as the truth hit him with the force of a two-by-four. Back when he’d been a kid, they couldn’t have handled even one more mouth to feed. His mom and sisters had had their hands full just keeping a roof over their heads and him healthy and alive. And like always when he remembered what it’d been like, he felt a gratitude fill him that those days were long over. Letting out a breath, he nodded. “Well, she fits my lifestyle now.”

  “You’re really going to keep her?” Sienne asked.

  “Yes. Well, half of her,” he corrected. “I’m sharing custody.”

  Sienne’s eyes sharpened. “With who?”

  “Whom,” Hannah corrected.

  “Whom isn’t relevant,” Caleb said.

  “So it’s a woman,” Sienne said. “Just tell us.”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding me? Last time I was interested in someone, you put her through all your search programs and cyberstalked her.” No way was he subjecting Sadie to that.

  “Which turned out to be a good thing, since she was also cyberstalking you,” Hannah said. “She was looking to get herself an MRS degree and become Mrs. Parker so she could spend your money.”

  “Maybe,” he allowed. “But I was still just having a good time, until you went all Sherlock on me and delivered the report about her every indiscretion, including the time she’d cheated on a spelling test in the third grade.”

  “Well, I thought you should know,” Sienne said in her best fuck-off-and-die voice.

  “Sienne.” He squeezed her hand. “Just the other day, you told me it was my turn to get a life. Did you mean it?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “So then, maybe that’s what I’m doing.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Definitely, so back off.”

  “Caleb—” Sienne started and he shot her a look that told her he was done talking about this. He had no problem defending his feelings for Sadie, but they were too new right now and not for public consumption. His phone was vibrating in his pocket, but he waited for Sienne to acknowledge that he was serious. She stared back and then let out a sigh.

  “Fine,” she said. “It’s your life.”

  “Try to remember that.” He took Lollipop to his office. The dog made herself at home.

  With a nod, she left. Hannah followed. Lollipop had made herself at home and was sprawled out on the floor beside his desk, her Hello Kitty leash flashing in the light as he answered Spence’s phone call. “Sorry,” he said. “I was in a meeting.”

  “With The Coven?” Spence asked.

  “Half of them. Introduced Sienne and Hannah to the new woman in my life.”

  “Sadie?”

  “Lollipop. Jesus.”

  Spence laughed and said something that Caleb missed because Lollipop started barking at something beneath his desk. He got down and looked.

  “Problem?” Spence asked.

  “There’s a Skittle under my desk. She’s apparently convinced it’s the enemy, but she isn’t sure, so you can imagine the stress she’s under.”

  Lollipop headed to the door, in a sudden hurry.

  “Oh shit,” Caleb said, rising. “Gotta go—”

  Too late. Lollipop was hunching into position on his rug.

  “Oh shit?” Spence asked.

  Caleb sighed. “Literally.”

  Just before lunch, Sadie checked her phone, wondering how Lollipop was managing. Actually, that was a big fat lie. She was wondering how Caleb was managing. He’d left her a text.

  Do Not Even Think About Falling For This Guy: Poops A Lot is living up to her name.

  Sadie: I’m trying to imagine you in those fancy suits, scooping poop.

  Do Not Even Think About Falling For This Guy: Attractive, right?

  Do Not Even Think About Falling For This Guy: And she just farted so loud she scared herself. She got upset when I laughed. My attorney and director of operations are demanding hazard pay because the stench is so bad.

  Sadie: Are you making your attorney and your director of operations dog sit while you rule the world?

  Do Not Even Think About Falling For This Guy: I only rule the world on the odd days of the month. And my attorney and director of operations are two of my four sisters. They’re older than me, so I’m not sure they really get the hierarchy here. One just told me she’s going to tell our mom I was rude to her.

  Sadie laughed and a couple of her coworkers stared at her in shock. She rarely laughed here at the day spa. Honestly, she rarely laughed in general. But Caleb brought it out in her. He was nice to dogs. He employed his sisters, and not just as office staff, but in high-powered positions. He’d fed Sadie. He’d paid for her dog’s vet bills.

  Their dog’s vet bills, she reminded herself.

  It was a struggle to remember he was practically still a stranger. Everyone had their armor. Hers was obvious, it was her bad attitude, and she’d been unapologetic about that.

  Your bad attitude isn’t your only armor, a part of her brain whispered. And that was certainly true. She hid behind the colorful streaks she liked in her hair, behind the shiny sparkly jewelry she favored, behind the clothes that said back the eff up . . . Even her tats hid something—her old cutting scars, for example. And the not so old ones.

  Do Not Even Think About Falling For This Guy: Just took Lollipop on a quick walk at a pet park on our way to you. She chased someone’s cat. I don’t think she meant to, she just lost her mind for a second. She nosed the cat in the ass and got bitch-slapped. She’s not hurt, not that you could tell by her sobbing. She’s having a rough day, currently sitting in my lap holding my hand. Be there in a few.

  He’d taken Lollipop to a pet park. He held her hand whenever she got scared. Damn. The man was dangerous to her heart and soul.

  Which made him the very opposite of perfect . . .

  Chapter 9

  #DogKissesSolveEverything

  A few days went by, during which Sadie had too many hours on the job and not enough hours sleeping. Tired didn’t come close to describing how she felt. She’d just spent about ten hours on her feet, leaning over clients, more than a little uptight about getting everything just right. Being an artist was one thing. So was selling your art. It was subjective, and that was okay.

  But being an artist and selling the art that you literally inked onto a person’s skin couldn’t be subjective.

  It had to be perfect.

  She’d texted Caleb asking if she could have Lollipop tonight even though it wasn’t her night. The truth was, she felt lonely and needed the company. It was unlike her to admit she needed anything, but somehow texting Caleb didn’t make her feel as vulnerable as she might have with anyone else.

  Which made no sense.

  He’d let her know he would meet her at eight p.m. near the pub.

  At ten minutes till, she walked the length of the courtyard, slowing to wave at Old Man Eddie, who lived in the alley. Spence, his grandson, had tried unsuccessfully to relocate Eddie to an apartment in the building, but Eddie preferred the alley. He waved back. “How’s it going, cutie-pie?”

  This was his nickname for most of the females who passed by. Probably because he couldn’t remember any of their names. “Good,” she said. “How you doing? How’s the new girlfriend?”

  He scratched his head, his wild Einstein hair standing on end. “She dumped me. Twice. Women should come with instructions.”

  “What would be the point of that?” Sadie asked. “I’ve never actually seen a man read any instructions.”

  Eddie was laughing as she walked on.

  And a minute later, she found Caleb looking pained as he watched Lollipop on a leash chasing her tail until she fell over.

  And though Sadie had thought it was Lollipop she needed that night, she knew she was at least partially wrong. Because it wasn’t the dog who caught her attention and held it, but the man.

  He’d shucked his suit jacket and shoved his sleeves up his forearms. No tie, top few buttons undone, the material stretched taut over his broad shoulders. With his build and the way he had of making her feel like the only person in the room, she had no doubt that if he’d been the lonely one tonight, he could flash his very easygoing, laid-back smile and draw in all the single females in the entire city.

  Tonight though, standing there by himself and not “on” for any reason, he seemed . . . different. He had an air of being as exhausted as she, and maybe also a whole lot on edge, which was a very unusual look for him. And also ridiculously, disarmingly sexy.

  Especially when Lollipop stopped twirling in circles and leaned against him. He squatted low and opened his arms and the dog walked right into them.

  And Ivy’s words came back to Sadie. “No matter how rich or intelligent you are, how you treat an animal tells me all I need to know about you . . .”

  She took a deep breath and admitted to herself that watching Caleb with Lollipop told her a whole hell of a lot about him.

  He looked up and held her gaze prisoner in his for a beat. “Hey,” he said, voice low, a little rough. “You okay?”

  “Why? Don’t I look okay?” The instant ’tude was an auto response.

  But he didn’t back off. “You look . . .” He gave a quick head shake and a small smile. “Well, if you knew what I was thinking about how you look, you wouldn’t still be standing there, you’d be running for the hills.”

  Something quivered low in her belly. Dangerously attracted, she stayed right where she was.

  “I’m asking,” he said, “because you look tired. You had a long day.”

  She had. And how long had it been since anyone had noticed, much less worried about her? “I could say the same thing about you.”

  Another small smile. “So we’re both overworked.”

  “Yes,” she said. “But only one of us is underpaid.”

  He came toward her. “I’m assuming we’re both starving though, right?”

  She nodded. She was starving. She just wasn’t quite sure she was starving for food.

  “I was thinking tacos. Ivy’s open for the street fair tonight.” He looped Lollipop’s leash around the back of a wrought-iron bench and turned back to Sadie. “But first, I opened a credit card account for us.”

  She blinked. “What? Why?”

  “For Poops A Lot. She’s cute, but she’s expensive as hell.” He pulled a credit card from his pocket and held it out to her.

  She stared at the card without taking it. It had her name on it. And it wasn’t any old card either, it was a black AmEx card. “What the actual hell?” she asked calmly.

  Okay, not calmly. Not even a little bit calmly.

  “A dog’s expensive,” he said. And he did manage calm, as always. “This way if you have to buy stuff, you’re covered.”

  She thought about strangling him. Instead, she said, “I cover myself.”

  “I know.” Damn him for being so reasonable when she couldn’t seem to manage anything close on the best of days, of which this wasn’t one. “I’m not trying to piss you off,” he said. “There’s just no reason for you to have to cover her when I can do it.”

  Okay, so he was aware he was pissing her off. Brownie points for that. But he lost points for being a stupid male. “We agreed to fifty-fifty.”

  “As it pertained to physical custody,” he said. “But not monetarily. You’ve got enough on your plate right now, working two jobs and trying to build up your clientele.”

  He probably had no idea that he’d just stomped right on her rawest nerve and secret fear—that no matter how hard she worked, she wouldn’t ever make it. Stepping closer, she poked a finger in his pec, which was a lot more solid than she’d anticipated. “I agreed to share custody,” she said, “but to be clear, Lollipop is the rescue, not me. I’m not a charity case.”

  He grimaced and shoved a hand through his hair so that it looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. It should’ve made him look silly, but it actually had the opposite effect.

  “You’re not a rescue or a charity case,” he said. “In fact, you’re one of the strongest, most capable women I know. But—”

  “No,” she said. “Stop right there. Nothing good ever comes after a but.” Unable to listen to reason, her fragile ego already bruised, she poked him again, harder this time so that it actually hurt her finger, which caused a flare of irritation in his eyes. He grabbed her hand in his and held tight.

  Dammit, he really did have an edge to him and that was dangerously attractive.

  No longer dating the wrong-for-me guys, she reminded herself. “This is a bad idea,” she said. “A colossally bad idea.”

  “The shared custody or getting food?” he asked.

  “Both. But especially going to eat.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a guy like you doesn’t . . .” She broke off, unwilling to finish the sentence she never should have started.

  “A guy like me,” he repeated. “Doesn’t what?”

  What part of this wasn’t he getting? “You could have anyone,” she said. “Which means not someone like me.”

  “Wow,” he said quietly even though his eyes flashed anger, proving once again he was much more efficient at managing his temper than she was. “Impressive. You just managed to insult both of us in a single sentence.”

  She closed her eyes. “Yeah. I’m real good at that when I don’t know what I’m doing. I lash out. I tried to warn you.” She opened her eyes and gave him this truth at least. “I think I do it to make sure I don’t have an audience for the occasionally really dumbass things I do—which I usually don’t realize are dumb until right after I’ve done them.”

  He surprised her by letting out a self-deprecating laugh, like he maybe did the same thing, which she highly doubted. Then he gave a little tug on her hand, which he was still holding in his, so that she was forced to take a step into him. “You aren’t conceited enough to think you’re the only one of the two of us who has made mistakes, right?” he asked. “Because we’ve all made mistakes, Sadie.”

  He didn’t say her name often, but when he did, the sound of it on his lips stilled her. There were other reactions too, but nothing that should be happening out in public.

  “You think we’re too different,” he said.

  “To be co-dog owners?” She shook her head. “No.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean. You think we’re too different for this.” He waggled a finger between them and her stomach jangled some more.

  “There’s no this,” she said.

  He let out a low laugh. “Did you know that when you lie, you break eye contact? It’s your tell.” He waited until her gaze flew back to his, her temper renewed, before quietly saying, “You don’t know enough about me to make that decision. And I get it. You don’t want to know enough about me, because then you might be interested.”

  “Seriously,” she murmured. “Are you some kind of mind reader?”

  He wasn’t feeling playful. “I’ve had a really long day, and I’m going to guess you did too. So while I get a kick out of bickering with you, I’m too hungry to keep it up, so can we agree to disagree until after we get food?”

  “I didn’t agree to food,” she said.

  “You don’t like tacos? No problem. You pick.”

  She eyed the alley, thinking that was her shortcut out of here, but he tightened his grip on her hand.

  “Don’t run off,” he said.

  “I don’t like it when people tell me what to do.”

  “I get that,” he said. “And same. Also, I try very hard to never tell anyone what to do. But I think we need to finish this. Please.”

  Another quiver from deep inside her. “I keep telling you, there’s no this.”

  “Are you sure?” Very slowly and carefully, clearly giving her plenty of time to get away if she really wanted, he stepped into her, making her extremely aware that she now stood hemmed in between the alley wall and his body, neither quite touching her.

  But she wanted him to. She actually ached to close that last inch between them. She didn’t do it. Instead, she lifted her chin. “I could make you a eunuch right now if I wanted.” The threat was minimalized by the fact that she whispered it, but suddenly holding on to her temper was difficult. So was talking. “Don’t think I can’t.”

  “I have no doubt,” he said, still holding one of her hands. He took the other as well and squeezed gently. “I think you could probably do anything you set your mind to.”

  No one had ever said those words to her, not ever, and when she felt the back of her eyes sting unexpectedly, she closed them in self-defense.

  “Sadie.”

  She shook her head.

  “Look at me. Please?”

  It was the damn please that had her opening her eyes. He’d closed the gap so that if she so much as took a breath, they’d be touching.

  So she did just that. She took a deep breath, and then their bodies were up against each other, his warm and hard. Everywhere. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

  “I believe you’re deciding between kicking me in the nuts and kissing me.” One side of his mouth curved very slightly as he lifted their still joined hands above her head, against the wall. “But that last part might just be in my dreams.”