“Bean came first,” Grayson said. “He bumps into things.”
Rebecca laughed, told Matt about Bean’s arrival, how disoriented he was, walking into walls and lying on his food bowl, and before she knew it, she had launched into a tale of all the dogs that had sought refuge with her. Matt didn’t interrupt—he seemed genuinely interested, appalled by the behavior of man, amused by canine antics, and shaking his head as she described how she’d wash them, feed them, and then pull the ticks from their coats. And how she and Grayson would take them to the local grocery in Ruby Falls and try and give them away, but how the worst of the lot—like Frank and Bean—were hard to place. They talked about how many animal shelters were full of dogs just like Frank and Bean, and probably Tater, too, how no one wanted throw-away dogs.
“It’s worse when they’re kids,” Matt said, and told her that he served on the board of a nonprofit organization, Children’s Aid Services. The organization tried to find services and clothing for children placed in foster homes. He told her a little about how hard it was to find services in general for the unwanted, and how he’d participated in clothing and toy drives for the organization.
That both surprised Rebecca and warmed her. It felt almost as if they shared a feeling of despair about the unwanted, and moreover, from the sound of it, Matt had spent his professional life trying to lift up people who had hit rock bottom. He confessed sheepishly (and rather charmingly, Rebecca thought) to being in quite a bit of trouble with his partner for taking on too many pro bono cases. “I just can’t turn my back on them,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “They need . . . someone. You know what I mean?”
She knew. Possibly better than he could ever understand.
When Grayson grew bored of their adult chatter, Matt set him up in the guest room with a remote and a TV. When Rebecca checked on him a few minutes later, he was fast asleep with Nickelodeon blaring in the background. She returned to the living room—Matt was sitting on the leather couch and patted the cushion next to him. “I won’t bite you, I promise.
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” she said, and Matt laughed as she walked forward and gingerly took a seat on the couch.
He playfully grabbed her hand. “By the way,” he said, “speaking of the unwanted—I can’t thank you enough for the Dennard referral. I always wanted to get involved in shoe insert patents.”
Rebecca laughed roundly. “Serves you right for busting vacuum cleaners and being so mean all the time.”
“Me? Mean?” Matt playfully protested.
Rebecca laughed again, looked down at her hand in his. It felt nice. Human. “I don’t get you, Matt Parrish, I really don’t,” she said. “You can be so charming.”
“This afternoon is getting better and better. Now you think I’m charming?” he asked, shifting a little closer to her, his hand sliding around her wrist.
“But you’re so . . .” She shook her head.
“So what?” he asked absently as he leaned forward to take in her scent.
“So full of yourself. I’m afraid you’ll float off at any moment.”
Matt laughed, turned her hand over and traced a line down her palm and up her wrist, his fingers moving lightly on her pulse. He lifted a brow. “Your pulse is racing, Mork.”
Yeah, and her heart was about to come out of her chest, too.
“If I’ve been mean to you, I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere, and the little smile that turned up the corner of his mouth began to fade. “And if I’ve been charming, I hope you can tell me when that was so I can keep doing it.” He moved his hand to the crook of her elbow, a long, nonchalant stroke of her arm that caused another tremor to shoot straight to her heart. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit there is something about you that makes me feel . . .”
“Bossy?” she murmured.
“A little confused. And a lot good.” He lifted his gaze to her then; the smile was gone. Matt was not kidding around, he was speaking from his heart; she could see it. “Actually, you make me feel so good that I want to do the protect-and-defend thing; you know, be a man,” he said sheepishly and shifted closer, dropping his hand to her bare knee, caressing it. “The God’s honest truth is that I can’t remember a time I ever felt like this.”
The headiness she was suddenly feeling was not relieved with a sharply drawn breath. She was uncertain what to say or do. “I thought . . . I thought we weren’t going there?”
“Yeah.” He flashed a lopsided smile. “Remind me why, again?” he asked, and brushed his fingers across her temple.
Funny, but she couldn’t think of her many good reasons at the moment. “Because you’re bossy and I am stubborn. I think that’s the way it went.” She smiled and reached for the bottom of his tie, flipped it around with her fingers.