“I’m really sorry, but even if I wrestle with him, he won’t listen. He never has.” Leanna petted Pepper’s back.
Kurt bit his tongue about the dog dirtying up his car. Apparently, it wouldn’t do any good anyway, according to little Miss Adorably Sexy Not Shy Leanna. She gave Kurt directions to Seaside, and he drove the main drag, trying not to worry about the dog on the leather or the lacy pink bra in Leanna’s hand.
In an effort to distract himself, he asked, “How long have you had him?”
“Pepper? I don’t know. A year, maybe?” She kissed his damp white fur.
“And he still doesn’t listen?” Kurt glanced at the dog, who had fallen fast asleep and was snoring.
“I try, but…” She shrugged. “He’s kind of a free spirit, like me, I guess.” She rolled up the sleeves of Kurt’s sweatshirt and swiped at the half-wet, half-dry hair hanging unkempt around her pretty face.
Free spirit. He thought about her bare back and felt his body warm again.
She looked down, tugging at the bottom of his sweatshirt. “Did you go to Duke?”
“Yes, I did.”
Pepper sighed in his sleep.
“I went to UVA. Business major.”
She lowered her cheek to Pepper’s back, and all Kurt could think about was the smell of wet dog—and how he’d really like to be that wet dog. Okay, enough. Stop it. He needed a talkative free spirit like he needed writer’s block. He trained his eyes on the road and begged his mind to follow. The rain eased to a drizzle as he pulled into Seaside Cottages.
“I really appreciate you driving me home. I could have walked if it wasn’t raining.” She pointed to the right. “Follow the road this way, but go slow. There are chipmunks around here.”
“Chipmunks?”
“Yeah. I see them in the mornings. I don’t know if they come out in the rain or not, but I wouldn’t want you to run one over.”
Chipmunks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even noticed a chipmunk. He followed the narrow gravel road up an incline to a fork and went around to the right, as she directed him. Pitch pine trees lined the road and filled the tight spaces between the small, one-story shingled cottages.
“That’s me. Right there.” She pointed to a driveway paved with seashells.
As he pulled in, he asked, “Do you have a car?” It was common to bike on the Cape, but most people had vehicles, even if they opted not to use them. The seashells crunched beneath his tires. Crushed seashell driveways were common on Cape Cod, and every time Kurt drove onto them, he silently hoped they didn’t slit his tires.
“Uh-huh. It’s so big that it blocks my view of my friend’s cottage when I’m on my deck.” She shrugged. “So I park it over at the laundry room.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and stroked Pepper’s back.
The cottage couldn’t have been more than twenty feet wide, with lavender shutters and a weathered fence around a deck on the side. The front garden was a mishmash of flowers and bushes, which reminded Kurt of Leanna—a little unkempt, a little wild, and incredibly pretty. He parked and went around to open her door, pondering the idea of a separate laundry room.
“Thanks. I could have done that.” Pepper jumped across her lap and circled Kurt’s feet. “Pepper thanks you, too. Did I tell you that I found him near a dumpster? He was so skinny I thought he was going to die. You’d think he’d listen to me since I saved his life, but no such luck. He’s kind of like the worst best friend you ever had.” She stepped from the car and touched Kurt’s chest to steady herself as she tugged at her wet shorts, without missing a beat of her solo conversation. “He only listens to me when he feels like it.” She shrugged. “But I love him, so…”
Kurt barely registered her explanation past the feel of her hand on his chest. It had been months since he’d been close to a woman. He’d been on constant deadlines, and women had been the farthest things from his mind.
Until now.
“Come on in and have a drink. Hey. The rain stopped. That’s lucky.” She opened the gate to the deck. “Come on, Pepper.”
Before he could comprehend her offer, she had disappeared. He was about to close the passenger door when he noticed her bra and T-shirt on the floor. He groaned and picked them up, wrapping her T-shirt over her bra so she didn’t think he was a pervert touching her lingerie, although that’s exactly what he’d like to do. If it were still on her.
Two towels, a bathing suit, and a T-shirt hung over the deck railing, drenched from the rain. The deck was fairly large for such a small cottage, with a grill and patio table and chairs. There was a back gate to the deck, and beyond that, a grassy area and a few more cottages, each with brightly colored shutters. The word quaint came to mind. Kurt knocked on the wooden edge of the screen door.
Leanna came out of a room holding the bottom of his sweatshirt between her teeth and zipping up a pair of jeans—but not before Kurt got an eyeful of bare skin where panties should have been.
She waved him in as she released the bottom of the sweatshirt. “Come in.”
He stepped inside and quickly cataloged his surroundings. The kitchen and narrow living space spanned the width of the cottage, and was devoid of any seating besides a small table with three chairs pushed against the wall to his right. Pepper was sacked out beneath the table. Kurt’s neck muscles tightened as he glanced at the line of green cabinets along the left wall, beneath which was a sink full of dishes. Every square inch of table and countertop was covered with jam and jelly jars, big metal pots, spoons, and other dishes streaked with dried red goo. An enormous mound of sneakers, flip-flops, and rain boots were piled on the floor to his left beside Pepper’s food and water bowls. Directly across from where he stood was a slightly open door. He caught a glimpse of a sink just beyond. Bathroom.
Holy. Cow.
“This is…cute.”
She smiled as she reached for the refrigerator door. “Thanks. There’s a really cute loft through there.” She pointed toward the door to Kurt’s right. “Old-fashioned pull-down stairs, too. My brothers and sister and I used to fight over who got to sleep up there. You can’t even stand up there, the ceiling’s so low, but we loved it. And there’s a pull-out couch in that room and a television, but I never use them.” She shrugged and stared into the nearly empty fridge. A second later she pulled out two bottles of beer and used the inside of his Duke sweatshirt to cover the tops as she twisted them off.
“Here.” She handed a bottle to Kurt and dropped her gaze to her shirt and bra, still in his hand.
“Oh gosh,” she said with another cute crinkle of her nose. She took them from him in exchange for the beer. “I swear I wouldn’t remember my head if it weren’t screwed on.” She opened the door of the room she’d come out of earlier and literally tossed the wet clothes into it. Kurt assumed that was her bedroom. Then she picked up a stack of clothes from a chair and carried it into the same room. “Sit down. Let’s chat a bit.”