She reached for another piece of pizza. “That’s one big reason, right there. You’re way too quick with the lines.”
“It’s not a line, it’s true.”
“See?” She picked a piece of egg off the pizza and popped it into her mouth. “Way too quick.”
“Okay, you’ve got it. I won’t talk when we’re in bed.”
“I should be surprised that you just said that,” she said almost more to herself than to him, “but already I’m not.”
She ran her finger over the rim of her drink and sucked the sugar off it, which made him ache beneath the table.
“I’m also not interested in being your flavor of the week. Or night, as the case probably is.”
“Forget about a night or a week,” he told her. “A month will work just fine.” Although right now, even thirty days with Heather tied to his bedposts, her long, silky hair spread all around her, didn’t seem like it would be long enough.
She let out a long, irritated sigh as she turned to watch the dogs drinking from the big water bowl across the room. “You should have been a politician instead of a mechanic.”
He didn’t correct her by telling her he was more than a mechanic, that he owned forty Sullivan Auto franchises up and down the West Coast.
“And just to be clear,” she added, “you’re not my type.”
Now it was his turn to say, “Good thing you’re a dog trainer and not a politician. You’re a terrible liar, Heather.”
She scooted her chair back and he could tell she was angry as she chucked the rest of her pizza into the trash. “What, you think you’re so irresistible that you believe there isn’t a woman alive who doesn’t want to be with you?”
“I’m sure there is,” he said in an easy voice as he stood up, “but you’re not her.” Before she could throw something at his head, he said, “Cuddles, come!”
His smart little puppy raced over into his open arms and the two of them got the hell out of there.
Chapter Five
“Help! I’m having another puppy emergency.”
Heather held the phone to her ear as she rolled over in bed and blearily looked at the clock. “It’s five thirty in the morning.” It wouldn’t be so bad if she’d gotten more sleep, but all night long she’d watched the clock tick over from 11 p.m. to midnight to 1 a.m. and then 2 a.m. before her brain finally gave up and shut down.
Damn Zach Sullivan for not only waking her up...but for being the reason she hadn’t been able to sleep in the first place.
“Cuddles doesn’t care what time it is,” he growled into her ear.
Yesterday, she would have been in a panic over the tone of his voice, would have assumed he was going to do something horrible to the puppy. But after spending part of the evening with him, while she’d confirmed that he was full of himself, she also felt confident that he was good with animals.
Even naughty little puppies.
“That’s life with a puppy,” she informed him around a yawn as she leaned back against her pillow and watched the sun start to rise outside her bedroom window.
Strange that it should seem so easy and natural to be talking on the phone with Zach when she’d just met him. And yet, it was.
“Just clean up whatever mess she made, tell her you love her anyway, and be sure to show up for your training session this evening.”
“Cuddles!” he roared.
She heard something crash to the floor, and then a muffled string of curses, before they were disconnected.
She closed her eyes, but already she knew it was pointless. She shouldn’t go running whenever he called, especially not to a man like Zach Sullivan, who would only see it as confirmation that he was king of the world. But at the same time, she knew she’d only be distracted all day wondering if he and Cuddles were going to make it to five p.m. in one piece.
She dragged herself into the shower and ran it a bit colder than usual to try to wake herself up—and cool herself down from the very sexy dream she’d been having about the exact person she shouldn’t have been. After she dried off, she pulled up his number on her cell phone from when he’d called her the night before and left him a message telling him that she would be coming to help, after all.
It was far more tempting than it should have been to blow dry her hair and throw on some makeup, but it was bad enough she was heading to his house this morning with nothing but a phone call. If she actually dressed up for him, all chance of retaining her self-respect would disappear.
By the time she’d slid on a pair of jeans, one of a dozen long-sleeved T-shirts in her closet, and braided her hair to keep it out of the way while she was dealing with whatever puppy mayhem had descended at Zach’s house, he’d texted her with his address.
She let Atlas out into the backyard and fed him before they set out. “Guess what? We’re going to see your new best friend Cuddles.”
At the sound of the puppy’s name, her dog happily thumped his tail.
“I’m glad at least one of us is happy about this,” she muttered as she drove toward Potrero Hill, one of the most exclusive districts in San Francisco, with views to forever. Who knew auto mechanics did this well?
The thought hit her again as she pulled up to the enormous house, along with the question of how Zach could possibly afford it. But when everything inside sounded ominously quiet as she stood on the front step and knocked on the door, worry about what had happened between him and the puppy had the question moving into the background.