Yule Be Mine (16 page)

That smile was starting to get to him. “Let me up, woman, or we'll be taking part in naked wrestling with a wet dog.”

She moved off the bed, stood before him beautifully nude, and stretched. Without a speck of modesty, she bent and picked up her sweatshirt, then shrugged into it. “It's chilly in here.”

Ozzie still felt like a furnace, but he said, “I'll adjust the heat.” He scooped up his jeans and then caught her arm. “Bathroom is this way.”

Leading her out of the bedroom and a little way down the hall, he said, “Wait here. I'll be right out.” He closed the bathroom door on her, rid himself of the condom, and splashed his face.

God, he wanted to sleep for a week, but it'd seem pretty crass to bring a woman in, do a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, and then leave her to her own devices.

He was such an ass.

He pulled on his jeans and when he stepped out, Marci was peeking into the next room down.

“That's a guestroom. Granny's room is at the end of the hall, with a sewing room in between. When I get to renovating, I plan to connect the bathroom and my bedroom, and turn the sewing room into a guest bath.”

She trailed her fingers along a ragged piece of flocked wallpaper in the hall. “This place is huge.”

“And run-down. Granny didn't take much to change.” He gestured for her to use the bathroom. “Make yourself at home. I'll go down to greet Grimshaw. Join us when you're ready.”

“Wait for me! I'll only be a second.” And sure enough, she was in and out of the bathroom in a flash. Bare-assed and beautiful, she darted into his bedroom to retrieve her panties and jeans.

They were halfway down the stairs when he heard the clicking of Grimshaw's nails as he raced over the kitchen floor.

Ozzie stepped in front of Marci. “Brace yourself.”

A second later, tongue hanging out one side of his mouth, eyes wild with excitement, Grimshaw skidded around the corner. He saw Ozzie, and he howled with berserk rapture before pounding up the stairs in a blur of black fur.

“Oh, Osbourne, he's beautiful.”

Ozzie sat on a step so the dog couldn't knock him over and then Grimshaw was in his lap, wiggling and licking to the point that Ozzie couldn't help but chuckle. He tried to get around Ozzie to inspect the newcomer, but his paws were frosty with snow and he was slobbering, so Ozzie played defense for Marci.

He should have known it wasn't necessary. With no hesitation at all, she sat down beside him and let Grimshaw shower her with affection.

Turning her face, she avoided a doggy lick on the lips, and laughed. “You're a wild one, aren't you?”

“He's always like this,” Ozzie told Marci.

“He's relieved that you came back.” She stroked the dog as he moved back to Ozzie's lap. “With the way your grandmother passed so suddenly, he's never certain if you'll leave him, too.”

Ozzie froze at that awful thought. He hugged Grimshaw close and frowned at Marci. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She smiled at the way Grimshaw rested his head on Ozzie's shoulder. “Losing your grandmother has been really hard on him, and adjusting to your schedule isn't easy, either. She didn't work, did she?”

“No. She didn't have to. She owned the house and had enough in the bank to live off the interest.”

“So she spent most of her time here with him.” With Grimshaw quieter now, Marci studied him. “She died in her sleep?”

“Yeah.” How the hell had she known that?

Ozzie had the weird suspicion that she was reading the dog's mind. He shook his head at himself.

“Granny wasn't sick or anything. I spoke with her every day. One day she told me she was feeling tired, so she planned to go to bed early. She was always so full of energy, it worried me, so I told her I'd come out after work. When I got here that next morning, she was gone.”

“Whenever she went into town to shop, or whenever she had an appointment, she took Grimshaw with her. He wasn't left alone very often. That's why he runs the property, to keep busy, to try to find someone to keep him company.” She scooted closer and held Grimshaw's face up to hers. “Poor baby, you're lonely, aren't you?”

Fury, fueled by guilt, rushed through Ozzie. “I have to work and I have to sleep.”

“Oh, I know that. But he doesn't. He's just a dog. All he knows is that his days are suddenly long and empty.”

“So what the hell would you have me do?”

She put her arms around Grimshaw and hugged him tight. “You need to get him some permanent company.”

Ozzie stiffened. “Uh…permanent company?”

Did she mean herself?

Was it such a repugnant idea?

Marci nodded. “A friend to be here when you're not.” Looking up at Ozzie, she stared him in the eyes. “I could make a really good suggestion, that is, if you're interested.”

And then she started smiling again.

O
sbourne looked like he'd swallowed his tongue. Why, she didn't know. He obviously loved animals, and he had a big heart, so why would he be so stunned at her suggestion?

“I don't know about this, Marci. To be honest, after our discussion, I hadn't expected you to push like this. I mean, why would you even want to, after that less-than-perfect performance of mine?”

What in the world was he talking about? “Your performance?”

“Well…yeah. I pretty much molested you.”

Realization dawned. “Oh.” She grinned as pleasurable memories swirled through her, then she sat up away from the dog. “Your, er, performance seemed pretty perfect to me.”

“Perfect?”
If anything, he went more rigid. “You're kidding, right?”

“Not at all. I liked it that you were all wild and out of control and turned on. It was exciting. You're exciting.” Then in a whisper, “I'm sorry if I was a little precipitous in my reactions. But there were…sensations I've never felt before. And I've wanted you a very long time.”

Heat shot into his face and he shoved to his feet. Hands on his hips, brows down in a hot glare, he stared at her for what felt like an eternity. “Are you telling me you came?”

“Osbourne!” Marci covered the dog's ears, but then thought better of that and stood to face him. In a quiet rush, she said, “We should discuss this in
private
.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake. The dog doesn't understand us, so answer me.”

She tucked in her chin. “You don't know?”

He brought his nose close to hers. “I was a little preoccupied—and don't you dare start smiling again.”

Puckering her lips to keep the smile at bay, Marci stared at his sternum. She absolutely, positively, could not look him in the eyes while discussing this. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

A glance at the dog proved they had his undivided attention. She went on tiptoe and breathed into Osbourne's ear, “Yes, I climaxed.” And she thought to add, “You were wonderful. Thank you.”

He clasped her shoulders and brought her into his chest. “You came?”

She still couldn't look at him. “Of course I did.”

Then her feet left the floor and his mouth covered hers, and the dog started barking in glee. By the time Osbourne ended the kiss, she hung limp in his arms.

His now-damp mouth lifted in a cocky grin. “All right.”

Marci shook her head at him, totally confused.

His tone gruff and indulgent, he said, “I suppose you can move in.”

That brought her gaze to his.
“What?”

“You can keep Grimshaw company.” He lowered her feet to the floor and patted her butt. “We both welcome you.”

Marci wasn't at all sure she understood him. Hoping to clarify, she asked carefully, “You want me to move in with you?”

Now he looked uncertain. “You said you wanted to.”

“I did?”

“Didn't you?”

She hadn't. But she loved that idea. Surely, Osbourne wouldn't make such an offer unless he cared for her beyond the sexual.

“Marci?”

She gave a firm nod. “Okay.”

He groaned in grievous confusion. “Okay
what?
”

“Okay, I'll move in.” So that he couldn't change his mind, she patted his chest and then hurried down the stairs. “Show me the rest of your house, then you can go on to bed and get some sleep.”

Both he and Grimshaw were hot on her heels.

“Damn it, Marci—”

“You shouldn't swear in front of the dog. You're stressing him.”

“He doesn't understand me.”

“Maybe not your words, but he feels your tension.”

She was almost to the kitchen when Osbourne caught her elbow and spun her around. She landed in his arms, hugged up to his massive chest. “Enough, woman.”

Loving the way he put things, Marci smiled.

“And no more of that sappy smiling. It confuses me even more.”

That made her laugh. “I smile when I'm happy. Forgive me.”

“You said you had an idea of who should keep Grimshaw company. I assumed you meant—”

“Myself? Oh, no, I would never be so presumptuous. But that is an excellent idea, and naturally I'd be thrilled to stay here and be his companion.” Even more, she'd love being Osbourne's companion. However, she still wanted to fulfill her other plan. “The thing is, I also know a dog at a shelter that no one wants, but she's wonderful and she'd fit right in here. She's about Grimshaw's age, and she's very passive, so Grimshaw could remain the dominant male—much like his owner. She's used to being kept outside, so all this land will be a joy to her.”

If anything, Osbourne looked more furious. She worried about that, until he demanded, “What do you mean, she's used to being outside?”

Such a wonderful man. He was already worrying for the dog when he didn't even know her. “Her previous owners kept her chained to an old car in the backyard. When they decided to move, they dropped her off at the shelter.”

“Bastards.”

“Yes.” Remembering the dog's desolation put a very real pain in Marci's heart. She pressed a hand there and her voice lowered. “She's not the prettiest dog, Osbourne, but she has beautiful brown eyes and a gentle heart and she wants so badly to find a loving home. All she's really known before now is neglect.”

Osbourne's hand covered hers. “How about you call the shelter and tell them we'll take her? If the snow doesn't get too thick, we can go pick her up tonight.”

Well. If she hadn't already loved him, that would have done it. “Really?”

“Yeah.” When she launched herself at him, he caught her and swung her around. Grimshaw went nuts again, barking and running circles around them.

Catering to the dog's excitement, Osbourne lifted Marci into his arms and then sat on the floor. Both she and Grimshaw shared his lap.

They ended up playing for a good fifteen minutes before Marci recalled that Osbourne really did need to get some sleep.

She put a hand to his jaw. “You're exhausted. Go on up to bed and Grimshaw will show me around.”

Reluctant, Osbourne glanced at his watch and winced. “Yeah, I suppose I could use a few hours.” He yawned and stretched. “You're sure you don't mind?”

She patted Grimshaw. “We'll be fine.”

“Don't leave the house.”

Another order? “Excuse me?”

“Your reporter buddy might still be poking around. I don't trust him. I'll feel better if I know you're safe inside.”

“Oh.” His concern pleased her. “Okay, then. Now go.” She shooed him away.

Rather than leave, he bent to give her a sound smooch on the lips. “Make yourself at home.” Then, to Grimshaw: “Keep an eye on her, boy, and as soon as we can, we'll go get you a woman friend.”

Whether or not Grimshaw understood, he yapped at that promise.

 

Later, when Ozzie awoke from a sound sleep, he noticed several things at once.

First was the time. He'd planned to sleep only a couple of hours to refresh him, and instead he'd conked out for five hours. It was nearing Marci's bedtime now. Shit.

Next, he heard the barking, and not just Grimshaw's bark. Another dog? He sat up, wondering if she'd gone out without telling him. He didn't like that idea at all, and if they were going to make this work, they'd have to set up a few ground rules.

Then he inhaled the delicious scent that filled the air. Marci had cooked for him? His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since that breakfast sandwich early in the morning.

As he left the bed, he also heard the chatter and laughter. Did she have company? Had that damned reporter come back?

In his boxers, he left the bedroom and went to the top of the stairs. He could hear music playing and Marci speaking, but she didn't sound alarmed. Curious, he went to investigate.

The kitchen was empty, but a big pot of soup simmered on the stove, filling the air with fragrant steam. His stomach rumbled again.

Stepping back into the foyer, he listened, and realized the music came from the family room. One glimpse into the room, and he froze.

There in front of the television, with music videos turned on, wearing only a T-shirt, panties, and socks, Marci was doing aerobics. While she moved to the beat of the music, she talked to the dogs. Plural.

Grimshaw paid no attention to Marci's prattle. He was too focused on a big, loose-skinned female dog sprawled on the floor. From Ozzie's quick glimpse of the animal, she appeared to be a Labrador–Beagle mix. A few scars marred her beige fur, and she was missing the tip of one drooping ear. She lay flat on the floor, her head on her front paws. Her eyes—big, beautiful eyes, just as Marci had claimed—took in everything at once: Marci, the television, and Grimshaw.

Whenever Grimshaw got near her face, the dog half-cowered, and licked him.

Ozzie's heart turned over.

He started to speak, and Marci bent from the waist, causing the words to strangle in his throat.

“Don't worry, Grimshaw. I'll explain to Osbourne when he awakens, and we'll see what we can do. I'm sure he'll agree, and it might even be a comfort to him, too. But I have to be careful. He thinks I'm a kook and I don't want to do anything to encourage those sentiments.”

Guilt roiled inside him. She was a kook, but now he considered it cute. And sweet. She used her kookiness to help animals, even when it earned her disdain from others.

“It's a miracle I'm here in the first place. Most guys are really freaked out by me. Do you know one young man I dated was so certain I'd flipped my lid that he went to Bethany and offered to help her get me committed!”

Torn between the luxury of watching Marci's sensual, fluid movements in a state of undress, and hearing the painful reminder of how hurt she'd been, Ozzie didn't know if he should speak up or slip away unannounced.

“Deep down,” she continued, “I think he cares as much about me as I do him. From the beginning I've felt connected to him.”

He'd felt that connection, too. And sometimes it spooked him, because Marci was so unlike other women. Not just unique but gifted in a way that defied all reason.

“It didn't matter that I scared off other men, but I don't want to scare off Ozzie. I want to try to make this work. It's just that with him—I suppose because I trust him and care for him—I sometimes blurt things out, and then everything is ruined.”

Because he couldn't tear himself away, Ozzie cleared his throat and asked, “So this is my new dog?”

Screeching, Marci straightened upright and pushed sweaty hair away from her face. Eyes watchful, she tried an uncertain smile and said, “How long have you been there?”

“Not long.” He eyed her up and down. “You look great, by the way.”

Both animals had jumped at the intrusion. As usual, Grimshaw went berserk, more so now that he had something to show Ozzie, meaning a new friend. Running between Ozzie and the other dog, he barked and pranced and acted much like an excited puppy.

The new dog stood, but she tucked in her tail and lowered her head, and basically tried to make herself as small as possible.

Then she peed on his hardwood floor.

Marci said, “Oops. Sorry about that. She's still nervous. I'll clean it up.”

“No. It's okay. I'll get it in a minute.” Doing his best to ignore Marci's exposed legs and the way he could see her nipples through the tee, Ozzie went to one knee and held his hand out to the dog. “It's okay, girl. Don't be afraid.” Then to Marci, “Does she have a name?”

“Lakeisha.”

He smiled. “Did you name her that?”

She shrugged. “Her previous owners just called her dog, but Lakeisha suits her, and it goes well with Grimshaw.”

“I agree.” The dog watched him, then crept forward with hope bright in her big eyes. “You're a beauty, aren't you? It's okay. I won't bite, even if you do. C'mon. That's it.”

She finally inched close enough for Ozzie to stroke under her chin.

Relying on Marci's talent, he asked, “Am I winning her over?”

Marci eased over to sit beside him. “Yes. She's more worried than afraid. This is all so new to her.”

Grimshaw plopped down by Marci and tipped his head at Lakeisha.

“Is he jealous?”

Laughing softly, Marci said, “No. He's just trying to figure her out. He really wants to get to know her, but she's shying away from him. Grimshaw is a very gentle dog. He doesn't want to spook her, either.”