Brenda Harlen - The New Girl In Town

Still, it was almost nine o’clock before she decided to hang up her mop for the night. Although she was physically exhausted, her mind was unsettled, her thoughts preoccupied with everything yet to be done. She decided a nice cup of tea would help her relax and get some sleep.

After the kettle had boiled, she carried her mug out to the porch and settled into an old weathered Adirondack chair. She lifted her feet to prop them on the railing, then dropped them quickly when the wood creaked and swayed. Instead, she folded her legs beneath her on the chair and cradled her mug between her palms.

The darkness of the nights still surprised her, with no streetlights or neon signs to illuminate the blackness of night. There was only the moon, about three-quarters full tonight, and an array of stars unlike anything she’d ever seen. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the cool, fresh air, and smiled. It was beautiful, peaceful, and exactly what she needed.

At least until she heard a thump on the porch and registered the bump against her arm half a second before she felt the shock of hot tea spilling down the front of her shirt and a disgustingly familiar wet tongue sweeping across her mouth.

She sputtered and pushed the hairy beast aside.

“Rosie, down.”

He sat, panting happily beside her chair.

Zoe resisted the urge to scream, asking instead, in a carefully controlled voice, “Where is your master?”

The beast tilted his head, as if trying to understand the question, but—of course—made no response to it.

“Maybe you’re smarter than he is,” she said. “Do you understand the word by-law?”

The beast merely cocked his head from one side to the next.

“Or dog pound?”

He barked, but then he licked her hand, clearly proving his ignorance.

“How about leash?” she asked in a deliberately friendly tone.

The beast dropped to his belly on the porch, covered his ears with his paws and whimpered.

Zoe exhaled a frustrated breath and untangled her legs. She set the now half-empty cup of tea on the arm of the chair and stood up. “Let’s go,” she said.

Rosie danced in ecstatic circles around her, nearly tripping her on the stairs.

It was the start of the ninth inning in a tie game when Mason heard knocking. He scowled at the door, his eyes still glued to the television. It was early in the season, but his commitment to his Yankees was resolute. Unfortunately, so was the pounding.

He swore under his breath as he pushed himself off the couch. The lead-off batter singled to right field and Mason pulled open the door. The sight of the woman on the other side was so unexpected—and so unexpectedly appealing in a pair of yoga-style pants that sat low on her hips and a skimpy white tank top—he actually forgot about the ballgame playing out on the fifty-two-inch screen behind him.

“This beast is a menace,” Zoe said tightly.

He winced and glanced at the animal sitting obediently at her side. “What did he do now?”

“What did he do?” she echoed indignantly. “Look at me.”

He took her words as an invitation, allowing his eyes to move over her—from the slightly lopsided ponytail on top of her head to the pink-painted toenails on her feet—lingering momentarily at some of the more interesting places in between.

“This—” she gestured to the stain on the front of her shirt that he’d thought was a flower “—was a cup of very hot tea.”

“It’s…pink.”

Her cheeks seemed to take on the same color.

“It’s herbal tea,” she said. “Raspberry. But that’s not the point.”

“Of course not,” he agreed solemnly.

Her eyes narrowed. “The point is that you were going to keep him on a leash.”

Rosie tucked her paws over her ears and whimpered.

Zoe rolled her eyes in disbelief. “You’ve obviously taught him to react whenever he hears that word. Why can’t you teach him to stay off my property?”

“I think he has a crush on you.”

She sent him a look of patent disbelief.

“I’m not kidding,” he told her. “He’s never wandered away from the backyard without me before.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true. And I really am sorry about—” his gaze fell to the pink stain on the front of her shirt and the tempting feminine curves beneath it “—your tea.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m hopeful it will wash out.”

“Then will we be forgiven?”

“Maybe the dog,” she said. “Not you. You should know better than to let him roam free.”

He scratched the top of Rosie’s head. “He’s just very affectionate.”

“His affection is wreaking havoc on my wardrobe.”

“You’re welcome to come over anytime to use my washer and dryer, if you want.”

“Thanks,” she said. “But I’ll stick with The Laundry Basket.”

“That’s right,” he said. “You don’t like to be on top of your neighbors.”

Her eyes narrowed on him.

He grinned. “Or was it that you didn’t like your neighbors on top?”

“Maybe it’s just some neighbors in particular that I have a problem with.”

“You’ll get over it,” he said confidently. “Pinehurst is too small a town to hold a grudge against anyone for long.”

“I’ll give it my best shot,” she told him.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think I’m going to enjoy getting to know you, Zoe Kozlowski.”

“Maybe another time,” she said. “Right now, I want to get home. I have a ton of things to do in the morning.”

“Wait,” he said, as she turned away.

She hesitated with obvious reluctance.

“Let me walk you back.”

“I don’t need an escort.”

“I know you don’t,” he agreed, sliding his feet into his shoes. “But it’s a nice night for a walk and I don’t want you going home mad.”

“I wouldn’t count on your company changing my disposition,” she warned him.

He grinned. “I’ll chance it.”

“What about the beast?”

He glanced regretfully at the animal by his feet. Rosie was looking up at him and thumping his tail in eager anticipation. As much as Mason regretted having to punish him, the dog had to learn that there were consequences to his actions. “Stay.”

The bundle of fur immediately sprawled on the floor, settling his chin on his front paws and looking up at his master with sorrow-filled eyes.

Mason ignored the guilt that tugged at him as he closed the door.

“Why do you call him that?” he asked.

“What?”

“The beast.”

“Because he is one.”

“You’re going to hurt his feelings,” he warned.

She turned, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “His or yours?”

“You have a beautiful smile, Zoe.”

He was disappointed, although not surprised, that his comment succeeded in erasing any trace of it.

“Flattery is not going to get you or your dog off the hook.”

“Why are you assuming that I have an ulterior motive?”

“Because everyone does.”

He took her hand, rubbed his thumb over the back of her knuckles. She didn’t tug away, but he could tell by the wariness in her eyes that she wanted to.

“Have dinner with me,” he said impulsively.

“I already ate.”

“I didn’t mean tonight.”

She hesitated. “I’m going to be busy with the house for quite a while.”

“You still have to eat,” he pointed out.

“I know but—”

“Tomorrow night,” he interrupted what he was sure would be a refusal. “We’ll barbecue some steaks, open a bottle of wine—”

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