Cowboy Take Me Away

Chapter 12




Shannon was still irritated that evening when she headed across the hall to Rita’s apartment. She hoped Luke had taken her seriously when she’d told him to leave the adoptions to the rest of them, but with him there was no way to tell. And that—that right there—was what made him so impossible to deal with.

When Rita answered the door, Shannon saw a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table and Ollie sitting on the arm of Rita’s recliner. With his paws tucked under him and his eyes at half-mast, he looked perfectly happy as an only cat. After Rita’s two dogs had passed on a few years ago soon after her stroke, she decided feeding and cleaning up after a single cat was about all she could handle.

Shannon didn’t watch much TV, but Rita had hooked her on Dancing with the Stars. Shannon had a tremendous amount of respect for bad dancers who worked hard to get better and then were willing to potentially embarrass themselves in front of millions of people.

Then Shannon looked at the TV. Instead of a picture, there was nothing but a blank screen with a bunch of funny numbers and letters going down one side.

“Uh-oh,” Shannon said. “What’s with the TV?”

“I don’t know,” Rita said. “The remote’s messed up. Or the TV’s messed up. Or somebody shot a satellite out of the sky. Hell, I don’t know. But that,” she said, pointing at the screen, “is all I can get.”

Shannon reached for the remote. “Let me try.”

She poked around on it. After a few stabs, the funny numbers and letters disappeared, but now all they had was a blank screen.

“Well, that helped,” Rita said.

“We have to fix it. We cannot watch this episode on my crummy thirty-two-inch TV.”

Shannon heard a knock at the door. “Who’s that?”

“Somebody who’s going to fix it, I hope.”

“Thank God.”

Rita opened the door, and Luke walked in.

Luke?

He stopped short when he saw Shannon, then turned to Rita. “What’s she doing here?”

Shannon sat up straight. “Excuse me? What am I doing here? What are you doing here?

“I got a nine-one-one call from Rita. She said it was a matter of life and death.” His gaze fanned across the room. “Ah. There’s the patient.”

Luke walked over to the TV. Picked up the remote. He poked at it for approximately fifteen seconds, and the picture popped up.

“How did you do that?” Shannon said.

“I’m a man.” He handed the remote back to Rita, eyeing the TV like a starving dog checking out a T-bone steak. “Nice looking TV you’ve got there, Ms. Kaufman.”

“Why, thank you.”

“What is that? A sixty-inch?”

“You have a sharp eye.”

“LCD?”

“Yes.”

“HD, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t believe I’ve ever seen a picture that clear. Shannon? Have you ever seen a picture that clear?”

Go home, Luke. Go home right now.

“And Dolby sound,” Luke said. “Of course it has Dolby sound.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know about that,” Rita said.

“How about picture-in-picture? There’s nothing better than watching two channels at once, particularly when—”

“Okay!” Shannon said. “Enough! Luke has no TV at the shelter, so he’s going through TV withdrawal. That’s why he can’t stop yapping about it.”

“Luke?” Rita said. “Would you like to stay and watch TV with us?”

Luke said yes at the same time Shannon said no. They turned and glared at each other.

“Is there a problem here?” Rita said.

“Shannon’s mad at me,” Luke said.

“I’m not mad at you,” Shannon said, even though she was. But the way Luke said it made her sound petty. Which she wasn’t.

“You did a pretty good imitation of it this morning.”

“I said I’m not mad at you!”

“Great! So you won’t mind if I hang around and watch TV?”

Shannon twisted her mouth with irritation.

“After all, he did fix it,” Rita said.

“He punched three buttons!”

“It’s not the button punching,” Luke said, plopping himself onto the sofa next to Shannon. “It’s knowing which buttons to punch.”

“You told me you didn’t care about having a TV,” Shannon said.

“I lied.” He rubbed his hands together with anticipation. “So what are we watching?”

“Dancing with the Stars,” Shannon said.

Luke’s face fell, and the hand rubbing ceased. “Oh.”

“The competition’s really heating up,” Rita said.

He leaned against the back of the sofa and folded his arms. “Dancing with the Stars? Isn’t that the show where a bunch of over-the-hill D-list celebrities make idiots of themselves by trying to dance when they can barely put one foot in front of the other?”

“Stop being judgmental,” Shannon said. “You like to dance.”

“Yeah, but do I wear dumb costumes when I do it?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Can this beggar at least make a suggestion?”

“Of course,” Rita said.

“Well, there’s a Rangers game on…”

Both women gave him deadpan looks.

“Which it appears we will not be watching,” Luke muttered.

“Have a cookie?” Shannon said sweetly.

Luke shot her a dirty look. Evidently the cookies had no appeal when he didn’t get a side of a baseball to go with them. As the first couple began to dance, he made a face. “That guy’s pants are stupid. Gold? With sparkles? Seriously?”

“It’s ballroom dancing,” Shannon said. “What do you think they’re going to wear? Chaps?”

“That’d be a big improvement,” Luke said, then tilted his head. “Good Lord. That woman is going to lose that dress if she’s not careful. Not that I mind naked women, but it is national television.”

“Be quiet,” Shannon said.

“They’re terrible dancers,” Luke said. “At least the guy is.”

“That’s because he’s the celebrity. Now, will you hush?”

“Ha! Look at that. He almost fell. Sure this isn’t Dancing with the Physically Challenged?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Shannon said. She reached for the remote, paused the program, then grabbed her keys from her purse and tossed them to Luke. “Go watch the game in my apartment. It’s right across the hall. Stay out of the refrigerator. And don’t do a lot of banging around and scare Goliath.”

Luke rose so fast Shannon swore a spring came loose underneath the sofa cushion and vaulted him to his feet.

“It’s only a thirty-two-inch screen,” Shannon said over her shoulder.

“Thirty two inches of baseball beats sixty inches of this,” Luke said, and disappeared out the door.

Shannon turned to Rita. “And men swear size doesn’t matter.”

Rita just smiled.

“Why did you ask him to stay?” Shannon said.

“I told you. He fixed the TV.”

“Why did you call him in the first place?”

“Because most of the men I know are my age. The only electronics they know anything about are transistor radios. So why are you mad at him?”

Shannon turned away. “I’m not mad at him. Didn’t I say that?”

Rita shook her head sadly. “Good Lord. It’s as if eleven years never passed. When are you two ever going to get on the same page?”

Never. Not as long as he persisted in acting so flippant about getting the animals adopted. He was out of there soon, so of course he didn’t care if whatever he did in the meantime backfired.

Shannon reached for the remote to start the program again, only to hear a knock. Rita rose, grabbed her cane, and hobbled to the door. A few seconds later, Tasha came into the living room, and she was carrying Ginger.

“Hi, Shannon! I came by so Rita could meet my new dog.”

“And isn’t she just a doll?” Rita said, giving Ginger a little scratch behind her ears.

“My clients went crazy for her,” Tasha said. “She just loves the attention.”

All at once, Ginger caught sight of Ollie on the arm of Rita’s chair. She came to attention and let out a flurry of little doggy barks.

“Let her down,” Rita said. “They need to meet sooner or later.”

Tasha put Ginger down, and she immediately shot over to the chair where Ollie lay. She came to a screeching halt and started in. Rarwww…yap! Yap, yap, yap! Rrrrw…yap!

Ollie opened one eye. Then the other. He’d been around the block a few times, and an outburst of barking from a microscopic mutt barely made his ears flicker. He just looked at Ginger, rearranged himself on the arm of Rita’s chair, and fell back asleep.

Confused that her show of force was being ignored, Ginger ran back to Tasha, peeking out from behind her ankles. Tasha scooped her up and cuddled her against her chest. “Sorry, sweetie. He doesn’t know how tough you are yet. Maybe he’ll be afraid later.” Tasha kissed the top of her head. “She does that with new animals. Then she settles down.”

Shannon was confused. Tasha wasn’t carrying her Prada handbag, and she hadn’t mentioned Paris Hilton once. And come to think of it, Shannon didn’t remember Ginger barking at all last night, and she was in the apartment right above her. Everything seems to be okay, she thought, only to chastise herself for jumping to conclusions. Looks could be deceiving.

“What are you feeding her?” she asked Tasha.

“The dog food listed on the sheet Luke gave me. She likes it just fine.”

“She needs to be walked. I know she’s tiny, but—”

“But all dogs need to be walked. I know.”

“And she’ll need her toenails clipped when they get long.”

“Right. I went to Lola’s today and bought clippers. And a dog bed. The kind with sheepskin, because it breathes better. And dog biscuits, but not the crappy ones with all the additives. Luke filled me in on all that. And he also told me I needed to be sure to take her to the vet every year for a checkup, so I went ahead and made an appointment and put it on my calendar. It’s a long way off, but I don’t want to forget.”

For a moment, Shannon was speechless. Luke had told her all that? “Well, you know that if for some reason she doesn’t work out—”

“Doesn’t work out?” Tasha looked aghast. “She’s perfect! I mean, I told Luke I didn’t want a dog, but he insisted I at least come meet her, and he was right.” She clipped Ginger’s leash back on. “Time for your walk, baby. Let’s go.”

Tasha walked out the door, Ginger trotting happily by her side. Once they were gone, Rita said, “So…it was Luke who got Tasha to adopt the dog?”

“Yes,” Shannon said glumly. “It was Luke.”

“Good match.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Hmm. He’s turning out to be a pretty handy guy to have around. Fixes TVs, gets dogs adopted…”

“Yeah, he’s real handy. Now, can we watch the show?”

Rita hit the remote, and the dancing began. Unfortunately, the longer the show went on, the worse Shannon felt. Luke was perfectly happy in her apartment watching his baseball game, and she was sitting over here miserable. Way to go, Luke. Ruin my favorite show for me.

Jerk.

She tried to concentrate on the show, pretending to care when the couple she liked the most was eliminated, but she couldn’t get her mind off Luke. The moment the show signed off, she said a quick good-bye to Rita and headed for her apartment. She went inside to find Luke slouched on her sofa. He’d kicked off his boots and put his stocking feet on her coffee table, looking as if he’d settled in for the evening. Goliath was sprawled out on the sofa beside him. The dog lifted his head as Shannon approached, looked at her sleepily for a moment, then lay his head back down again with a heavy doggy sigh.

In Luke’s lap was one of Shannon’s big plastic bowls. He held it out to her. “Popcorn?”

She frowned. “Where did you get that?”

“From your pantry.”

“What were you doing snooping in my pantry?”

“Killing time between innings.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out of my stuff?”

“I believe you said to stay out of your refrigerator.”

As he shoved another bite of popcorn into his mouth, Shannon sat down in the overstuffed chair next to her sofa. “How much longer is this game going to be on?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Rough estimate.”

“Hard to say.”

Shannon let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, Luke. Let’s do this another way. How long does the average baseball game last?”

“I don’t know. Three or four hours?”

Shannon’s eyes flew open wide, and her voice shot up an octave. “I knew baseball games were long, but…three or four hours?”

Goliath jerked his head up. He hurried off the sofa and ambled over to his blanket in the corner of the room, where he lay down and curled himself into a nervous little ball.

“Assuming there aren’t extra innings,” Luke said. “Then it could go longer.”

“You could have told me that, you know.”

“Any reason you’re being so crabby?”

“I’m not being crabby.”

“Goliath is hiding in the corner. You’re being crabby.”

“Okay, okay!” She sat up suddenly, throwing her hands in the air. “You were right about Tasha and Ginger! I was wrong! There. Are you happy?”

Luke blinked with surprise. “Uh…I’m not sure.”

“Tasha brought Ginger by to meet Rita. Tasha said you told her everything she needed to know to take care of her. Why didn’t you tell me you spelled out everything to her?”

“I believe I did. You just thought I didn’t say it loud enough.”

“And she didn’t say a word about Paris Hilton. So I’m sorry. You were right. There,” she said, her forehead all scrunched up with irritation. “I said it.”

A sly smile crossed his lips. “Okay. Let’s recap, just to make sure I have this straight. You were wrong, and I was right. Is that correct?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

He sat back and smiled. “God, you’re beautiful when you’re apologetic.”

“And you’re annoying when you’re sarcastic.” She rose from her chair. “Watch your game. Eat your popcorn. I have things to do.”

As she passed by Luke, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down on the sofa beside him. She tried to get up. He pulled her down again.

“Will you stop?” she said.

“Do you always have to be doing something? How about just relaxing once in a while?”

“Not when I have things to do.”

“You always think you have things to do. I bet you can’t be still for five minutes.”

“Of course I can.”

“Five minutes. I’m timing you.” He grabbed his phone.

“That’s dumb.”

“If you get up, I’m dragging you right back down again, and the clock starts over.”

He fiddled with an app on his phone, then set it down on the coffee table. Shannon glanced over to see it counting down the seconds.

“This is dumb,” she said.

“You’ve been warned.” He turned off the television.

“What about your baseball game?” Shannon asked.

“I won’t miss much in five minutes.”

Then he reached up and flipped the three-way switch on the lamp until it was at its lowest setting. Without the flickering light from the TV, fifty watts barely lit the room.

“Okay,” Shannon said. “I see where this is going.”

“Going?”

“Oh, come on, Luke! How dumb do you think I am?”

“Shannon, if I wanted to seduce you, you’d be half naked by now.”

“Well, you’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Just relax, will you?”

He settled back on the sofa and continued to stare at her. Her antennae went up, looking for the slightest hint of manipulation, for an ulterior motive hiding behind those devious I’m only thinking of you messages. As the seconds ticked away, she tapped her fingertips impatiently on her knee. Luke put his hand on top of hers to still it. She pulled away and folded her arms.

“You need to lighten up about the animal adoptions,” he said.

“I already said you were right about Tasha and Ginger.”

“I’m talking about all of them. You’re never going to find them perfect homes. Pretty good homes are better than none at all.”

A twinge of annoyance bubbled up inside her, but something about the quiet of the room and the softness of his voice calmed the irritation she felt. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling tension slip away. Slowly she unfolded her arms and let her hands rest on her thighs. Next to the fireplace, Goliath had stretched out on his blanket, his chin on his paws, the dim light melting his brindle coat into a deep copper.

Luke said nothing. He just sat there watching at her. He was like an armchair hypnotist, coaxing her into the depths of relaxation whether she intended to be there or not. And with it came a dose of self-realization she hadn’t expected.

“I’m sorry I got so angry about Tasha and Ginger,” she murmured.

She waited for Luke to respond, but he was silent.

“It’s just that some of the animals have had such a hard time of it. I just can’t stand the thought of sending any of them into a bad situation all over again.”

“I understand that,” Luke said. “But you have to think of yourself, too. You can’t let the shelter make you crazy. That’s not good for you, and it’s not good for the animals, either.”

“It’s just that there’s so much to do. Always. It never ends.”

“I’m here to help you,” he said quietly. “But you have to let me.”

“I thought you were just here to put in your time and then hit the road.”

“Yeah. About that.” He lifted his elbow, resting it on the back of the sofa as he turned to face her. “Turns out maybe I’d like to do a little more.”

He spoke with total sincerity. Nothing more should have passed through her mind than that. But lately even the most benign comment from Luke sounded sexy to her. Whenever she was around him, some raw, earthy thing beat on her from the inside, demanding to be released. It felt exciting and dangerous all at the same time, like the intoxicating rush of driving a hundred miles an hour. And the way he was looking at her now…there was no denying it. It was sexy. Her mind started humming with erotic thoughts, and soon she was about as far from relaxed as she could possibly get.

All at once Luke’s phone alarm went off. Shannon jerked with surprise, as if she’d been awakened from a dream. Luke silenced it. When he looked back, self-consciousness overtook her. She rose from the sofa.

“Five minutes is up,” she said, scooping up the remote and handing it to him. “Watch the rest of your game.” But before she could get up, Luke grabbed her by the arm.

“Why don’t you relax a little longer?” he said, tossing the remote aside.

“I told you I have things to do.”

“So do I.” His grip on her arm softened, and he stroked his thumb over it. “But what I’d like to do we can do together.”

Shannon swallowed hard. “You said you weren’t out to seduce me.”

“I lied.”

“You lied about wanting a TV, too. Do you do that a lot?”

“Only when the truth doesn’t get me what I want.”

“No. We’re not going there.”

“Like I told you before,” Luke said, “this doesn’t have to be a big deal. We can keep things real casual, and everything will work out just fine.”

At least he was being truthful about that. He wanted no-strings-attached sex. But the feelings she was starting to have for him scared the hell out of her for exactly that reason. Because there was no future.

“I’m not into casual sex,” she said.

“Then why are you breathing faster?”

“I’m not.”

“And your pupils are the size of quarters.” He trailed his fingertips along her arm. “And would you look at these goose bumps?”

She yanked her arm away. “Will you stop?”

“Shannon? When’s the last time you did something just because it feels good?”

Never. Or if she had, she didn’t remember it. And if he thought she was any other way, he clearly didn’t know her very well.

“I’ll tell you what would feel good,” she said, rising from the sofa. “For you to watch your ball game and me to do something else.”

Anything else. Anything that put her somewhere Luke wasn’t so she could catch her breath. Walking the opposite way around the coffee table to keep him from reaching out for her again, she went into the kitchen, feeling a rush of heat from head to toe. She turned a circle, looking for something to do, anything to release the pent-up energy she suddenly felt. Finally she zeroed in on her dishwasher. She opened the door and started pulling out clean dishes. She put them away with soft clinks and clatters, only to realize she heard nothing from the living room. No blaring baseball announcer. No too-loud commercial.

She stopped. Listened.

Nothing.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Luke standing at the kitchen door. Judging from the look on his face, he wasn’t through with her yet. She drew in a silent breath of resolve, but temptation washed over her like a tidal wave.

She turned back around and stuck a few bowls into an upper cabinet, then reached back into the dishwasher, her heart beating wildly. “There’s beer in the fridge if you want it,” she said. “Maybe Bud, maybe Miller. I’m not sure. I know you said you like dark beer, but…”

His stocking feet made no noise on the tile floor, but she sensed him moving up behind her. It was as if the air between them compressed with every step he took. Staring straight ahead, she held a coffee cup in one hand and a plate in the other, but suddenly her brain wouldn’t tell her what to do with them.

Luke reached around her, one hand on each side, and took the dishes. He set them down carefully. Then he placed his hands on the counter, one beside each of her hips, trapping her there, the front of his body pressing lightly against the back of hers. Her blood coursed wildly through her veins, echoed inside her ears, making her shiver with the kind of sexual awareness that lit her on fire.

“Luke…”

She meant to say don’t you dare, think again, I told you no already, but then he touched his lips to her neck in a gentle kiss. Did he remember how he’d once kissed her in precisely that spot? Was that why he was doing it again?

When memories came flooding back of that one night they’d been together, any objections she might have had went right out the window. He caressed her thigh with one hand, moving the other one to her abdomen, splaying his fingers and pulling her back against him as his lips brushed her ear. When she felt how hard he was already, every nerve in her body pulsed with excitement.

Then he slid his other hand beneath her shirt. He found the front clasp of her bra and flicked it open, and she gasped softly as the cups fell away. He skimmed his hand beneath her bra, lifting and squeezing one breast, humming his approval against her ear. He plucked and pulled at her nipples, and the pleasure of it was so intense she tried to squirm from beneath his hand because it was too much, too much, at the same time it wasn’t nearly enough.

Minutes could have passed. Hours. She didn’t know. But through it all, he wouldn’t let her move more than a few inches in any direction. Between her legs…God, she felt so hot, so swollen. Seconds later, as if he’d read her mind, he moved his hand to stroke her there, but it only made her frustration worse. Even through her jeans, the pressure built. The pleasure escalated. If only she could get these damned jeans off!

“Please, Luke,” she breathed, “let me go.”

“Not yet.”

“Please. I need—”

“I know what you need.”

“But—”

“This is one of those times I told you about,” he said, his hot breath scorching her neck.

“What times?”

“When I’m the boss.”

She tried to turn around, but he was relentless, holding her firmly as he teased and tormented her. She wanted him. Needed him. But he still wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t release her. Instead he seemed hell-bent on pushing her over the brink right there in her kitchen, standing up, still wearing most of her clothes. Good God, what was he doing to her?

Suddenly he spun her around. Before she knew it, he’d swept her up in those rock-solid arms and was heading to her bedroom. She’d never been one of those tiny women any man could pick up, but Luke lifted her as if she weighed less than nothing.

He nudged the door open and lay her on her bed. Before she could even get her bearings, he fell onto the bed beside her. She circled her arms around his neck, and he kissed her long and hard and deep, his hands moving everywhere at once.

Suddenly he pulled away. Stood up. She felt a stab of dismay, only to have him reach down, unbutton her jeans, rip the zipper open, and tuck his fingers into the waistband to pull them off. Oh, thank God. Finally, finally, finally.

And his jeans would be next.

But before he could get her jeans off, she heard a knock at her front door. She sat up suddenly and looked toward the living room.

“No,” Luke said, pointing at her. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“But—”

He put a knee on the bed and pushed her to her back again, falling alongside her. She tried to argue, but he kissed the words right out of her.

Yes. You’re so right. Don’t know who it is. Don’t care. They’ll go away.

Another knock. Damn it.

“The door,” she said against his lips.

“To hell with the door,” Luke said, and dove in again.

But the knocking continued. Then she heard a voice from the hall outside her apartment. “Shannon!”

Shannon ripped her mouth away from Luke’s and sat bolt upright again.

“What?” Luke said.

“It’s my mother!”