Someone Else's Ocean

“Koti!”


The pooch whimpered in his arms, still traumatized for being a fifteen-minute orphan.

“I’m not dressed,” I yelled from the safety of my bedroom.

“Then get dressed!” he ordered.

“I have to shower,” I called out toward the door before slipping into my bathroom.

He knocked again ignoring my lies. I went and took an unneeded shower to give them a chance to bond. When I emerged from my room minutes later, all was silent. I peered through my living room window and saw no sign of either of them. Curious, I peeked out of my back door to see if the coast was clear.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” Ian said with a lifeless voice sitting on my wicker loveseat with the tiny puppy in his lap. He slid thick fingers through her fur while her pink tongue darted out and rewarded his other hand in kind. “But this is the last thing I need.”

I squared off and stepped onto the porch. “I disagree. Everyone needs a best friend.”

“I can’t take on this responsibility.” His tone was distant, cold, his head down as he stared at the nameless dog.

I spoke up, far too uncomfortable with the pain that still radiated from him. “I was thinking Disco, for a name. She looks like a Disco, doesn’t she?”

“Koti,” there wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice. Murky gray eyes trailed over my romper. For a flicker of a second, I had his attention and it felt way too rewarding.

“Just give it a week, okay?”

Ian stood from my love seat. Disco was dwarfed by his size, engulfed in his large hands. I inhaled his scent as he towered inches above me, his stubble had grown out slightly, but he never went more than a few days without shaving. In a little over a month, he’d settled nicely into the beach bum look. I was tempted to brush the unruly dark hair away from his brow. I felt inexplicably drawn to him while he stared at Disco as if she were going to speak. Rows of curly white and beige hair made up the most of her. She weighed no more than a few pounds. Her dark chocolate eyes stared back at him before she let out a squeak.

I caught the subtle smile he tried to hide.

Come on, Ian. Can’t you see she loves you already? She can give you a thousand of those smiles.

I saw his decision before he spoke. “Again, I appreciate the gesture, but—”

“I’m allergic.” Lie. “And I couldn’t bear to see her homeless.” Another lie. I’d paid a fortune for her.

Ian studied me with ill-tempered eyes. It seemed he was immune to my bullshit.

“No.”

“Ye-es.” I said in a sing-song voice. “She won’t be any trouble. Besides you’ve already entertained a hyena.” I grinned cheekily.

He looked confused until he realized I was talking about his booty call. “Cute.”

“What was that hyena’s name again?”

Ian rolled his eyes as he gripped Disco and brought her to his face. Nose to nose they assessed each other before she licked him.

“You will get along famously,” I cooed, itching to run my fingers through her hair.

Ian sighed and stretched Disco out in front of him. I began to scratch my arms as he held the puffy pooch toward me. “Sorry, can’t. I’ll break out in hives.”

A moment of silence passed between us as we stared each other down in challenge.

“Koti, don’t do this, okay? I don’t need the hassle.”

“You need her and she’s helpless.”

“Damnit, woman, just take her.” When I shook my head, a furious Ian left my porch and walked back to his house slamming the door behind him.

Hours later in bed, I heard the puppy cry and cringed with every loud protest, afraid for her because of her temperamental new owner. Who would have thought a dog that little would have such an amazing vocal range? It may not have been the best idea, but it made him accountable for something besides himself. Disco had needs and he would have to meet them and maybe, just for a few minutes a day, it would distract him from that hurt.

Another agonizing hour later, the dog kept two houses on Vista Lane awake.

“Oh, for fack’s sake!”

I withered in my bed as Ian’s growl drifted between our houses. And then all went quiet. She was sleeping with him. I was sure of it.

Lucky bitch.





The next morning, I slipped out the front door of my house and didn’t look back as I tore out of the driveway unable to face the wrath I was sure was coming to me. I was greeted by an equally sleep-deprived Jasmine as she walked through the door with two lattes.

“Double shots,” she said, offering me my cup. I took it, grateful.

“How’s the puppy?”

“She’s adorable and very vocal.”

“Oh, no. That bad? You’ve been looking forward to getting her for a month.” Jasmine laughed, studying my face. “Poor thing. You can bring her in tomorrow so we can keep her awake during the day.” She took a seat behind her cluttered desk. “I love dogs.”

“Yeah, my mom never let me have one when I was a kid. She always said no puppies in the penthouse.”

“You’ve never had a pet?”

“Never.”

“Well then, go get her now. You haven’t shut up about her, I want to meet her.”

“I can’t.”

Jasmine gave me a sideways glance. “Sure you can. I’ll watch her here.”

I shrugged as I searched through the schedule. “She’s kind of in someone else’s custody.”

Jasmine pushed away from her desk and crossed her arms. “You gave her away?!”

“I loaned her out.”

“To?”

“Ian.”

“Really?” A wide smile covered her face. “You’ve got it bad for him, don’t you?”

“Not possible.”

“Oh, it’s possible,” she piped.

I sighed. “Jasmine, he’s in the middle of a crisis. The puppy will help. It’s no more than that. Maybe I’m just a little curious because, after a month of living next to him, he’s still a complete mystery.” Aside from the attraction I had for him, he was off-limits in every way. Emotionally unavailable and temperamental were far from on my wish list.

“I’m a little attracted to him. But you know crazy attracts crazy.”

“You aren’t crazy,” she said sharply. “You’re just a nervous nelly.”

“I left New York and my career because I had a brush with death and now I have an instilled fear of dying. There’s a big difference between having a breakdown in Target over the pillow selection and cracking up on my level.”

Jasmine jerked out of her chair. “You ass. I’ll have you know that breakdown was legit.”

“If you say so.”

“Target is the mecca of indecisiveness I’ll have you know. That breakdown on sheet sets was well warranted.”

“Forgive me, I forgot it was sheets. I appreciate you trying to relate, but a breakdown about bed sheets pales in comparison.”

“You haven’t had an episode in a few months though, right?”

“Yeah,” I said thoughtfully. “It’s been a little over a month, but that’s a very long time for me.” I looked her over. “Sorry, I’m sure it was traumatizing for you in Target. I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I’m tired. I’m sure your breakdown was legit.”

“It wasn’t legit, it was PMS.” She yawned. “I’m exhausted. I got no sleep because of Chris. He’s a sea captain and has a hooked penis.”

I swallowed down my latte with a chuckle. “Oh? Do tell.”

“And the man’s got a thing for Mexican women.”

“Please tell me you didn’t—”

“Oh, yes I did. Last night I was Maria Valdez. I even went as far as reciting some old high school Spanish.” She waggled her brows.

“That’s wrong on so many levels.” I shook my head. “Seriously, you spend half your time correcting people on your ethnicity and you mean to tell me you changed it for curvy cocked Chris?”

Jasmine wrinkled her nose. “Don’t say cock, that’s gross.”

“And penis is clinical,” I chided.

“Dick?” She offered as a middle ground.

That time I wrinkled my nose. “Better, but to me, that describes more of a type of personality than the actual body part.”

Kate Stewart's books