Playing for Keeps (Heartbreaker Bay #7)(19)



“Talk to me, Sadie.”

“Arf!” Lollipop said.

Caleb smiled and his gaze flicked to the rearview mirror. “Not you.” He turned back to Sadie. “You . You talk to me.”

“Aren’t you late for your morning world domination or something?”

His fingers left the headrest and wrapped around a stray strand of her hair. “World domination’s on hold at the moment. Right now I’m doing this.”

“This?”

“Yes, this. With you. Whatever the hell it is. I don’t understand why you so carefully weigh everything you say to me. Don’t hold back, Sadie. It’s not like you. Just say your piece.”

“Alright,” she said. “I don’t understand why you’d want to share a dog with me.”

“Because I’m willing to take what I can get.”

“Of Lollipop?” she asked.

He didn’t answer that, just held her gaze and her heart flip-flopped. He was willing to take whatever he could get of her? She had no idea what that even meant, or how to feel about it. “So why then were you so quick to tell the vet tech we weren’t together?” she asked.

He raised a brow. “Should I have said otherwise?”

“Of course not,” she said, though he sure as hell could’ve hesitated at least a little bit. “But just so you know, I’m a catch.”

His mouth quirked, but his eyes stayed serious. “I have no doubt, Tough Girl.”

Was that sarcasm? “Not that you’ll ever find out. I don’t date guys like you.”

“You mean nice?”

“I mean gazillionaires.” Though she hadn’t made nice all that much of a priority either. Another reason she’d given up men. She had no nice meter, at all.

He let his smile through. “But you’re thinking about it now. About us.”

“Am not.” Look at her with all the lies today. He was very close. And very big and sexy. He hadn’t shaved for at least several mornings and the stubble on his lean jaw was scarily enticing. Also, that crackalicious scent of him should be illegal. And why her mind had gone down this path with him, she had no idea. “This is all your fault.”

He laughed, the soft one that always scraped all her good parts. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night,” he said, and with one last playful tug on her hair, he started the car and pulled out into the street.

Lollipop immediately lost her shit, whining with escalating volume until she was sobbing.

“I can’t,” Sadie said, her heart cracked open. She reached back and clicked open the dog’s seatbelt, and in a single blink, Lollipop was in her lap, holding out her paw for Caleb.

He took it in his hand and shook his head. “Apparently I’m highly trainable.”

No way was that actually true. She turned away from the adorable sight and stared out the window. When they pulled up to the Pacific Pier Building, she reached for Lollipop’s leash, but Caleb put a hand on her arm. “How were you planning on dividing up the days for Lollipop’s custody?”

She bit her lower lip. Much as she didn’t want to admit it, especially to him, she was grateful to have someone to share the responsibility with. “We could switch off days,” she suggested, wanting to be fair. “I could keep her for twenty-four hours and then you do the same. Does that work?”

“Sure,” he said. “I can take the first shift. You’ve got a full schedule today, right?”

“Yes, but I’m sure you do too.”

“We’ll be okay,” he said easily.

“You’ve never had a dog before,” she reminded him. “Trust me, it’s harder than it looks.”

He shrugged, clearly not worried.

Fine. She let go of the leash. “Send proof of life pics.”

“Sure.”

“No, don’t just placate the silly dog lady,” she said. “Promise me.”

He met her gaze, his own solemn now. “Something you should know about me. When I give my word, I give my word. I don’t go back on it.”

There was something in the air now. Tension. A sexual tension, but also . . . more. “Never?” she breathed.

“Never.”

It’d always been important to her that she hold her own and go toe-to-toe with . . . well, everyone. But especially Caleb, a guy used to running his world and getting his way. Still, she looked away first because she didn’t believe him. Couldn’t. No one kept their word all the time.

With a gentle hand on her jaw, he brought her face back around. “You don’t believe me,” he said. “But you will. You can trust me, Sadie. I’ll have Lollipop back to you tomorrow morning.”

And then he was gone.

She put a hand to her jaw where he’d touched her and stood there like an idiot for a long beat. What had just happened? Nothing, she decided. Nothing at all, and with fifteen minutes to spare, she headed for the southeast corner of the building where The Taco Truck was parked.

Ivy was in her truck. A five-foot-two-inch dynamo of a cook with a personality much bigger than her petite frame, she was sassy, funny, smart, and a taker of absolutely no bullshit. Sadie knew she could count on Ivy’s opinion straight up.

“What’ll float your boat this morning?” Ivy asked.

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