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Authors: Lane Hayes

The Wrong Man (6 page)

BOOK: The Wrong Man
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“So you’re waiting for me now? Fine. This way.”

Mack sniffed at every possible surface in my house the moment I let him off the leash. He wandered the living area, circling the wood and steel coffee table and probably leaving a ton of fur along the large, comfy, oatmeal-colored sofa and armchair as he passed. I was too exhausted to care. I called him into the kitchen as I filled a big red ceramic bowl with water. I wasn’t sure he’d listen. He seemed pretty lively all of a sudden and determined to explore every inch of my house. It was a two-bedroom, one-bath bungalow, so it wouldn’t take long.

I heard the click of his paws against the hardwood floor as he rounded the corner to investigate the kitchen. He looked around the open, airy room before taking a long drink of water. Then he turned in a circle three times and laid down with a huff under my tiny, zinc-topped kitchen table for two. He closed his eyes, and his breathing instantly morphed into a soft snore. I watched him closely for a moment, amazed by his ability to go from wide awake to sound asleep in seconds flat. Fine by me. My bed was calling my name. I headed for the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I stared bleary-eyed into the mirror, I heard the jingle of his collar tags and looked down to find him sitting in the doorway.

“Nothing exciting is happening here, I promise. Aren’t you tired?”

No response. I was beyond exhausted and ready to give him the keys to the house, the car, and anything else he wanted as long as I got to go to bed.

I changed into a larger sized T-shirt than I usually wore out in the real world and a pair of lightweight baby blue pajama bottoms, then jumped into my gloriously comfortable bed. I carelessly pushed the decorative print pillows aside and burrowed under the delicious weight of the duvet. I reached for my cellphone to turn on the alarm just as it buzzed and alerted me I had a new text message.

I didn’t know the number, but I figured it was Jake.

I’m sorry. I should b done in 1hr. Text me ur address. I’ll pick M up asap.

Oh, hell no. I was not staying up another hour to wait for Jake fucking Westley to pick up his damn dog. I was going to bed. I typed a quick message before I got myself wound up. I was desperate for sleep, and a peek at the dog lying on the cool hardwood floor a couple of feet away told me he felt the same.

Don’t. I’m tired. M is fine. Pick him up in the morning. I’ll b up at 7.

He replied immediately.

Thk u. See u at 7. Address?

I replied quickly and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. The screen on my cell lit up with another message, complete with a yawning emoticon smiley face.

Goodnight Bran

I looked at the screen longer than normal thinking how the silly emoticon was so… Jake. The Jake I remembered from long ago would make me laugh by doodling whimsical stick figures in the corners of my homework. He had been an extraordinarily charming teenager. Quick to smile and easily amused. I sighed heavily. If a stupid text could make me grin like a fool, I’d better be careful. I was a sucker for charm. It’s why I had his damn dog at the foot of my bed, for God’s sake.

 

 

I
STRETCHED
my arms over my head and picked up my cell to check the time: 6:55 a.m. Perfect. Most mornings I woke just before my alarm rang. I loved the slow decadent feeling of lying in state as I made lists in my head of things I needed to accomplish during the day. I loved the way the sunlight slyly slanted through the roman blinds, casting a soft glow across my light gray comforter. My room, like the rest of my house, was small so I kept the furnishings to a minimum. There was a queen-sized bed with a beautifully upholstered linen headboard, two bedside tables, and a long, low-mirrored dresser across from the bed. And a gorgeous, gilt-framed mirror tilted on the wall nearby. It was a peaceful haven decked in soothing shades of the lightest grays and softest blues.

A steady thumping had me sitting up taller. Mack was sitting next to the bed, wagging his tail wildly in greeting.

“So last night wasn’t a dream. How’d you sleep?”

He cocked his head to the side expressively and continued his happy wagging. I reached out to pet his face and scratch his ears as I cooed at him, telling him what a clever boy he was. He licked my cheek, and I flinched in surprise laughing at the unexpected sensation.

“I’m not sure we know one another well eno—” The alarm sounded and my doorbell rang in unison, which of course made Mack bark like crazy.

I scrambled out of bed unsteadily and immediately bumped into a wall in my haste to get to the front door. Mack stayed by my side as I checked the peephole and fumbled to unlock the old, wooden, Spanish-style door for Jake.

“Shh. It’s okay.”

The moment the door was opened, Mack launched his big body at Jake, who must have known to brace himself for the enthusiastic greeting. He scratched and petted his dog, murmuring softly to him. I couldn’t help the stupid grin on my face as I watched them. It was really fucking cute. Maybe I should get a dog.

“Hi there. Good morning. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, and really gratef—”

“No worries. Come on in. I’ll grab Mack’s leash.”

I headed down the short hallway toward the kitchen, ultra-aware of the man and dog behind me. I hadn’t taken a good look at Jake yet. I was almost afraid to do more than hand the leash over and show him to the door. Having an ex in my personal space was verboten. A big no-no. As the early morning cobwebs started to clear, an instinctive unease settled over me.

Mack went straight to the water bowl in the kitchen and drank thirstily. I raised a brow at Jake, who chuckled at his dog’s manners. I shouldn’t have looked at him. Fuck, he was handsome. His thick hair was disheveled, as though he’d rolled out of bed. He didn’t look sloppy though; he looked delicious. He was wearing a snug black T-shirt and a pair of khaki cargo shorts. Not a look that usually caught my attention. However, it worked for him. Jake was a picture of rugged sexiness. I gulped.

“I brought a couple of breakfast rolls. I meant to stop for coffee too, but I was running out of time. I didn’t want to be late and—”

“Thank you. I—” I bit the inside of my cheek hard but made myself continue. It was only polite. “I can make coffee. I’m not sure if I have all the sugar you need, but I certainly have coffee.”

“Ha-ha. Actually, I don’t drink much coffee.”

Jake guffawed at my incredulous expression, his beautiful smile catapulting him into another realm of hotness.

“I saw you drink that nasty concoction of sugar and milk with a drop of java to spice things up. Don’t tell me—”

“I know.” He looked a little sheepish. “Um, I drink tea. If you have any, that is.”

We stared at one another for a quiet moment.

“Of course. Green or black?”

“Green, please. Hey, I also brought Mack’s breakfast. He needs to eat regularly. Do you mind if I feed him? I don’t mean to impose or overstay the welcome bu—”

“Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t begrudge Mack his breakfast. Do you need a bowl?”

“No. I brought his bowl and his insulin shot. He’s diabetic and—”

“Liz mentioned that yesterday.” I turned my back to him to put water in the teakettle and start coffee for myself.

“Yeah. He’s fine, but eating regularly and getting lots of water along with his shots of insulin are vital. Right, buddy?” Jake pulled a silver bowl from a grocery bag and dumped the foul-smelling dog food into it before placing it on the kitchen floor next to the water.

I leaned against the tile counter and watched him prepare a shot. My groggy state was keeping the surreal quality of having Jake and his dog in my home at bay. On a normal day, I’d be in the shower thinking about what to wear to work. I never made coffee or breakfast at home if I didn’t have someone to cook for, so I rarely spent much time in my kitchen before I left for the store.

The kettle whistled and shook me from my reverie. I set two cups on the counter and poured hot water over a green-leaf tea bag and coffee in the other. I winked as I set the tea in front of Jake with a sugar bowl and a carton of milk. He chuckled softly and thanked me before tending to Mack.

“Does that hurt him? The shot?” I winced at the thought of a needle poking skin.

“No. He’s used to it now. Mind if I let him outside to do his thing? Backyard or front?”

“Oh, right. Um, back is fine.” I pointed to the door next to the kitchen table leading to the backyard.

Jake ushered Mack outside. I listened to him speaking softly to his dog about the weather and the birds chirping in the overhead trees. I sighed and looked at my watch. I had plenty of time before I had to be at the store, but I wasn’t sure it was wise to spend my morning hanging out with my ex and his pet. They came back inside a few minutes later. Jake went straight to the sink to wash his hands before picking up a bag of pastries and waving it in front of me.

“Hungry? Cinnamon roll or croissant?”

I gave him a half laugh and nodded as I grabbed a couple plates and sat at the small table.

“Your house is great. I love the backyard.” Jake’s tone was conversational and friendly, which seemed to settle my sudden bout of nerves.

“Thanks. Me too. It’s small, but it’s mine.”

“Have you lived here long?”

“Yes. Well, I’ve owned this place for four years, but I’ve lived in West Hollywood since I graduated from design school.”

“Wow. That’s awesome. Did you stay local or—”

“Local. I’ve never strayed far from WeHo once I finally moved here. It’s a beautiful, culturally diverse place to live.” I shrugged and made myself shut up. I sounded like a tourist brochure.

“I haven’t been here long, but I like it too.”

I nodded and tried to think of a safe topic.

“It’s hard to believe Mack is thirteen. I mean, that’s old for a dog, right?”

Jake chuckled. “Yeah, he’s doing well, but he got kind of sick recently. Actually, really sick. I was afraid it was the end and….” He looked over at the adoring Lab lying at his feet before continuing, “as much as diabetes sucks, I was happy there was something to make him feel better. With the insulin, he’s almost as spry as he was when I first got him.”

“When was that?”

“Six years ago. He was seven.” Jake lifted his cup to take a sip of his tea.

“Did you rescue him?”

“Sort of. My ex and I lived near a family in Oxnard who fell on hard times. When the economy tanked, they both lost their jobs and eventually their house. They had to move into an apartment complex that unfortunately didn’t take pets. Mack was going to be put up for adoption. I felt horrible for them. He was a member of their family and they were heartbroken, but they were running out of options. Honestly, I don’t think it was just the living situation that forced their decision. I think they hit a low where they couldn’t afford to feed their dog and keep food on the table for their kids too.”

“That’s awful.” Tears pricked behind my eyes as I looked down at the sweet dog. I could only imagine the heart-wrenching conversations he’d overheard.

“Yeah, it was. I begged Der—my ex to adopt Mack. It wasn’t exactly an easy sell, but when it became a matter of life or literally a trip to the shelter, I was able to talk him into keeping Mack. The kids got to come play with their dog, and it was cool to do something with purpose, I guess. That sounds corny, but I think you know what I mean.”

“I do. You did a good thing, saving him like that.”

Jake went suddenly quiet, but it wasn’t a peaceful, pondering silence. I could practically see the turbulent thoughts in the air around him.

“He saved me too,” he said cryptically. “Dogs do that. Animals in general, I think. They teach you major life lessons when you think you’re the one with all the answers.”

I nodded in agreement, though I had no frame of reference. I’d never owned a pet.

“Brandon?”

“Yeah?” My voice cracked oddly.

“I have something I’ve been trying hard to say since I first came into your store and—”

“No.”

“Yes. Please. It’s important.”

His story about how he and Mack had become a family had softened my defenses. As much as I wanted to kick him to the curb and ask him to kindly stay away from me, Mack made it difficult for me to follow through. But honestly, so did Jake. There was a melancholy quality to the man sitting at my kitchen table I didn’t remember in the carefree high school jock. I inclined my head and hid my eyes briefly in my coffee cup, hoping this strange morning wasn’t about to get really awkward.

“I’m sorry about what happened in high school. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I hurt you. A million times over. I apologize for—”

“Stop!” I shot to my feet and spun away to the other side of the room. I dumped my coffee down the drain and rinsed the cup over and over. I sensed his closeness and fought hard to keep from letting my firm grasp on the present slip out from under me. I didn’t want to delve into those dark waters. It had taken too long to surface the first time around.

“Bran. We were so young, and I was so scared. It took me years to figure myself out. And a couple more to accept who I am. You were so lucky to know and accept you—”

BOOK: The Wrong Man
2.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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