CHAPTER 3
“You look much better,” Willa crooned to the now dry, marginally cleaner dog.
Noodle preened, or at least she thought he did. She’d essentially given him a sponge bath with the hand towels. Then she’d dried him with a fluffy towel from the linen closet. After a quick “what’s safe for dogs to eat?” Google search to make sure it was all right, she gave him a bit of boiled chicken, hoping his owner wouldn’t mind. It did distract Noodle from the storm, calming him a little. He wasn’t relaxed, but he was definitely happier.
Now, he was resting on the couch with her, twisted on his back with paws in the air and his head resting on her lap as she rubbed his belly. His pink tongue would dart out to give her a thankful lick as she did, making her giggle as it unerringly hit the pit of her elbow. He looked at her adoringly. If there was a mirror nearby, she knew she’d see herself looking back with the same expression.
“I wish I could keep you,” she said, rubbing his tummy until he shivered with pure doggy delight.
She quickly cut off that line of thought. The man on the phone who had finally called her back, Jeremy, sounded nice. He’d thanked her and was apologetic for the inconvenience, insisting that “someone from his family” would be right by, since they lived “practically next door.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly. She didn’t think they lived in the Victorian house across the street, the only other house nearby on her part of the island. She’d only seen a man there, in passing, driving an Audi, and Jeremy made it sound like it was more than one person. Otherwise, it was as if she didn’t have neighbors, not like when she lived in the suburbs. Her late aunt Caroline’s property butted up against hay meadows and some rambling, wild forest, fenced in with wire.
No, this dog was just out and mischievous and had probably gone too far afield, and she’d bet his humans missed him terribly, because he was adorable.
“Maybe I can volunteer to dog sit,” she told him, rubbing his ears and putting him in tongue-lolling ecstasy. “Or ... I don’t know. Maybe walk you for free? Dog walking is a thing, right?”
What does it say that I’m lonely enough that I’m willing to schedule essentially a playdate with a stranger’s dog?
She gritted her teeth. Positive thinking!
If she just kept repeating it, surely it would stick, right?
Besides, the sooner Noodle was claimed, the sooner she could get to bed and work on that whole “get sleep” thing. She had that call in the morning with Vanessa, the editor she used to work with, and it was too important for her to be unfocused or exhausted. Right now, it was just a little past midnight. If she maybe meditated, or listened to one of those guided sleeping things on YouTube, she could get enough rest to be clearheaded. Then she’d be able to impress Vanessa. She needed that way more than she needed a dog.
She nuzzled Noodle’s head, laughing when he licked her chin. Even an awesome dog.
The knock on the door startled her, and she grunted when Noodle twisted like a breaching shark before launching himself off the couch, somehow using her leg as a springboard. He barked at the door protectively.
“Shh! It’s okay, it’s okay,” she reassured him before carefully opening the door so the dog didn’t either jump on the person or make another wild break for freedom into the rain.
Lightning chose that moment to flash like a strobe, making everything seem to stop.
A man stood on her porch. Taller than her, not that that was saying much. If she had to give a one-word description, it would be strong . Not because he was bulky with muscle. If anything, he was lean, rangy. He gave the impression of rapier-like thinness. Like Timothy Olyphant, she thought absently, in Justified . Everything but the hat.
In that frozen moment, she also saw his T-shirt was drenched from the rain and clung to obvious muscle definition. The garment was somewhere between white and gray, she’d guess, streaked with dirt. There were a few holes in the fabric, presumably worn from age and use. His jeans were similarly filthy and similarly representative, not so tight that they were obscene but definitely and lovingly well worn.
Those weren’t gym muscles. Whatever this man did, he’d earned every lean, corded line through hard work—she could just tell.
But the real shock was his face. Dark hair streaked with silver, cut medium length except for a messy, rakish drop of bangs that shielded eyes as blue and bright as a butane flame. Cheekbones you could carve marble with. Sharp jaw accentuated by a salt-and-pepper shadow.
She went absolutely, utterly still.
And of course, at that moment, the lights went out.
She let out a startled cry. In response, Noodle jumped against the door, slamming it shut in the man’s face.
“Ma’am?” she heard him shout through the door, over the storm. “Ma’am, are you all right?”
“Yes! Just ... just one minute!” she yelled back. Just like that, the lights flickered back on. She could feel her heart hammering in her rib cage, blood rushing in her ears, pulsing hard in her throat. “You’re here for the dog, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She bit her lip. “What’s his name?”
A pause. “Sorry?”
“What’s ... um, the dog’s name?”
“Noodle,” the guy answered immediately. He sounded ... amused? Maybe? The important part being he didn’t sound irritated or angry. Or scary?
Not that she felt scared of him. But she felt something , very big and weird and alien. She tried desperately to get a read on the situation, but frankly, she was at a loss.
Taking a deep breath and grabbing Noodle firmly but carefully by the collar, she pulled him back enough to get the door open.
The man was still there, still looking imposing.
Well, no, not imposing. That wasn’t the right word.
Striking, her brain supplied instead.
“You okay?” he asked, stepping in and closing the door behind him, shutting out the roaring sound of the storm. That bright-eyed gaze pinned her. He smirked a little, revealing a dimple pitting his cheek, just over the stubble. The smirk wasn’t mean spirited, but ... yup. He was definitely amused. “Wanted to make sure I wasn’t here to try and steal a dog at nearly midnight?”
Good lord. Here, in the relative quiet of the house’s tiny foyer, the guy’s voice was ridiculously deep.
ASMR deep.
Like, audio porn deep.
She could feel it like a rumble in her sternum. She shivered a little.
What the hell is going on here?
“Wanted to make sure who I was opening the door for,” she answered with quiet aloofness. It was her front-of-the-house voice—neutral, polite.
His smile immediately fell. “Oh, shit. I’m ... you’re right. It’s late. And you don’t know me ...”
“It’s fine.” She didn’t mean to sound curt, but it seemed to come out that way. She bit her lip. “I mean ... thank you. For coming. To get Noodle.”
Noodle leaped at him, and he knelt down, letting out a little laugh as the excited dog immediately licked his neck and face.
“Okay, okay! Fuc—uh, frickin’ Houdini,” he teased, taking the dog’s face in his hands and giving him a gentle little shake. “Why can’t you just stay at the farm?”
She frowned as a detail clicked with that question. “The hobby farm?” she said before she could stop herself.
He glanced over at her as he petted Noodle, whose tail was wagging enthusiastically. “You know it?”
“It’s down the road ...?” She seemed to remember a sign as she was driving here, meeting the real estate agent, getting the keys.
“Yeah.” His smile was back, less amused, more genuinely happy. “Our property goes all the way to yours, though. We’re neighbors. That’s probably how Noodle made it over here.” He sighed a little, pointing at Noodle until he focused. “Bad dog. You’ve gotta stop running away.”
Noodle’s ears went down, and his puppy eyes went wide and liquid, looking forlorn.
Her heart tugged. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” she quickly interjected. “He just got out, and the storm scared him, and he got lost. And made it to my garage, somehow. I’m glad he found me.”
The man stood up. “I’m not ... I’m not angry at him,” he said slowly, studying her. “You know that, right?”
She shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. She hadn’t thought he’d been angry , to be honest. She just really liked Noodle and hated seeing him sad. Already the thought of him trotting out the door caused a pang.
Nonetheless, her reaction to the man standing there was starting to unsettle her. She wasn’t afraid. She’d been ready to face down a frickin’ bear in her garage with barely a blip in her heart rate. But this?
She still couldn’t define it, but she definitely felt odd .
She wasn’t sure if he believed her, but his smile was gentle, his movements slow. “My name’s Hudson. Hudson Clark, of Marigold Meadows Family Farm.” He held out his hand, then seemed to realize he had the leash in it and swapped. His hand was clean, but he had mud streaking up his wrists.
She straightened, releasing her inadvertent self-hug, and shook his hand. “Willa Lieu-Endicott,” she said in a rush. It felt weird, saying it out loud, like it’d been ages since she’d talked with someone who didn’t know her. Who wasn’t somehow related to something official.
Real estate agent. Banker. Lawyer.
“Of ... um, here,” she finished clumsily.
He laughed. “You live here, then?” he asked. He shifted his weight to one foot, smiling at her, completely casual. Completely comfortable . Like he’d known her for years, rather than simply striking up a conversation with a stranger. “You buy the place from Ms. Caroline’s family?”
She felt her eyes widen. “You knew my great-aunt?”
“Oh, you’re her family.” His smile widened. How? It didn’t look fake or anything, or even overly jovial. But she just got an overwhelming rush of more . Like she’d somehow unlocked a conversational level she wasn’t aware she was working on. “She was a great lady. She’d want us to welcome you. She was friends with my mom. They traded recipes all the time.”
Willa made a noncommittal noise, since she wasn’t sure how to respond.
“You should stop by and say hi,” he added. “It’s summer, so the farm stand will be open, and you can always just say hi to the animals. I’m sure Mom and Dad would love to meet you.”
Why couldn’t she speak ? She nodded, feeling foolish and lost.
Then he took one step closer to her. He did the thing that taller people—taller men —sometimes did when they crouched to be eye level, studying your face.
“You sure you’re all right?” he asked, with obvious concern.
The guy’s voice was like getting a full-body massage with chinchilla mitts.
Oh, God, this is a problem.
She shivered again, then set her jaw and took a step back, her spine bumping against the banister.
“Just ... tired,” she finally said. “I, um, should probably get some sleep.”
“Oh.” He mirrored her action, taking a step back. “Yeah! Of course. It’s late. Thanks for taking care of Noodle.”
He unrolled the leash. Noodle looked back at Willa, and for a second, she wanted to see if this Hudson guy would sell him to her ... or let him visit ... or something .
She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore Noodle’s plaintive look as Hudson clipped the lead to Noodle’s collar.
“It was nice meeting you, Noodle,” she said softly, forcing herself not to reach out and pet him one last time.
Noodle replied with a little woof and tail wag.
“Nice meeting you, too, Willa,” Hudson added, and she felt heat flood her face.
“Oh! Well, yes.” Then she covered her face with her hand. “I mean ... you too. Hudson.”
Oh please God kill me.
Hudson chuckled, just a brief, tiny moment. Like a perfect one-bite dark chocolate truffle.
Then he opened the door.
“Ma’am,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat before walking out into the storm, Noodle in tow.
She shut the door and locked it, then all but collapsed against its wood surface.
What just happened?
She hugged herself again as she checked the house, making sure everything was locked tight. Her heart hadn’t quite slowed down. She chalked it up to adrenaline. Same with the dance of nerves that seemed to flicker over her.
Too many new things all at once, she finally decided, before washing her feet and settling back into bed. She’d only been in the house for less than a week. She needed to make some hard decisions, and a lot would ride on her conversation with Vanessa the next morning. Add to that an adorable and unexpected dog and a ... well, striking and somewhat imposing stranger who then took away said dog, and it was just an inordinate amount of new and unexpected and overwhelming.
She plugged her phone in, hoping that the power didn’t go out again.
She then proceeded to not fall asleep for the rest of the night.