Tailspin. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.
turned on him, stretched on her tiptoes to glare and said, “In. Her. Mouth.”
Her snarling tone startled him. Buck glanced down at the female dog and…ewww.
Right there between the dog’s teeth was a chubby, still screeching, red-eyed cicada. He shuddered in honest, horrified revulsion. No wonder the dog was losing fur if she kept things like that in her mouth.
“Good God, is she going to eat it?”
“I don’t know,” Sadie wailed while doing a little dance and flapping her hands. “She keeps getting…things, and bringing them home to me. A dead frog, a slimy night crawler, and now this.”
The little dog whined around the pulsating bug.
“She wants in,” Sadie gasped.
“Over my dead body,” Buck said.
Her expression earnest, Sadie turned to Buck. She even flattened a hand on his chest, which nearly stopped his heart.
“Go out there and take it away from her,” she said, her tone commanding.
Buck stiffened. Of all the things to ask, why did it have to be that? And she had asked it while touching his naked chest with her soft little hand, he in his underwear and she in her nightgown, leaving room for all sorts of possibilities.
He hated to disappoint her, but some things were too much. “Sorry, no can do.”
Her lips trembled. “Why?”
“I hate cicadas.”
Her doelike eyes widened. “But you’re a man!”
“Last time I checked, yeah.” At least he knew she’d noticed that much. “And stop yelling. You’re upsetting the dogs.”
Only Butch didn’t look upset. He looked…love-struck. From the moment the other Chihuahua appeared, Butch had gone stock-still, his head tilted, his bulgy little eyes wide. Deep in his throat, a low, husky rumble escaped. Close to a whimper, but Butch was all male dog, so no way would Buck accuse him of whimpering.
Maybe Butch had bad eyesight and didn’t realize the other dog was balding. Maybe—
Sadie’s hand, still on his chest, curled into a fist, grasping a handful of hair. “She’s leaving. You have to go get her.”
When Buck just winced, she changed tactics. “Oh please. I can’t lose her, but I can’t go out there, either. I just can’t. Not while she has that awful thing in her mouth.”
Buck watched the dog trot around the corner. He shook his head, denying the inevitable. “I hate cicadas. If it were a spider, no problem at all. A snake, I’m there. But cicadas—”
Sadie jerked, nearly removing his chest hair. “She’s going to get lost!”
Yeah, she probably would. Disgusted and feeling very put out, Buck gently untangled Sadie’s fingers from his chest hair. He leaned down till his nose almost touched hers.
“All right. But you owe me.”
Her lashes fluttered in incomprehension.
“Agreed?”
She swallowed, then gave a small nod. “All right.”
Satisfied, Buck picked up Butch and handed him to her. “Hold him. I’ll be right back.”
“Her name is Tish,” Sadie yelled in a belated effort to be helpful.
Buck crept out, his eyes darting this way and that, his ears alert to the scream of the cicada. No sign of the dog. No sign of other neighbors, either, thank God, since he wore only boxers.
In a ridiculously high voice for a man who weighed two-twenty-five, all of it muscle, he called, “Tish? Come on, sweetie pie. Heeeere, Tish…”
He rounded the corner of the building and there she sat, her round butt almost hidden in the tall grass. She’d put down the cicada, but it wasn’t moving. It just…lay there, looking gruesome and wicked with its fiery eyes exposed. Ick. Why wouldn’t the damn thing fly away?
Buck drew a fortifying breath. “Come here, baby,” he cajoled.
Tish tipped her head and stared. Her ears perked up, forming a wrinkle in her bald forehead. Buck could see her belly and what looked like a scar. He frowned—until Tish put one paw on the vibrating bug.
Buck’s stomach lurched. How could she bare to touch it? “Come on, Tish. Be a good girl, now. No reason to be afraid, baby, I promise. I just want to hold you. That’s all.”
Behind him, Sadie whispered, “I bet you say that to a lot of girls.”
Buck’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, so he wouldn’t startle the dog, he pivoted to face her. “I thought you were too chicken to come out.”
The hem of Sadie’s gown was soaked and clung to her ankles. She was shivering in the brisk morning air, with Butch hugged up to her chest, shielding her breasts from view. Butch didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked real cozy.
“You’re between me and the bug.” Her expression was taut. “That helps.”
A thought occurred to Buck and his eyes rounded. “You didn’t close my door, did you?”
Sensing his alarm, Sadie hesitated before admitting, “Um… Yes. Why?”
Just what he didn’t need this morning. Letting his gaze settle on hers, he growled, “Because now it’s locked. And in case you didn’t notice, I’m in my boxers.”
She cleared her throat. “I, uh, noticed.”
She had? Of course she had, he told himself. They’re bright yellow and have monkeys all over them. His eyes narrowed more. “All right, brainiac, so how am I supposed to—”
Sadie started backpedaling. “Here she comes!”
Buck jerked around, prepared for the worst, but thank God, Tish had left the cicada behind. “That’s a good girl, Tish. Come here, baby.” He knelt down, held out his arms, and the dog…dodged around him.
Buck tried to grab her, lost his balance and landed butt-first in the wet grass. Dew instantly soaked through his boxers.
Sadie dropped Butch into his lap and took up the pursuit. After more wild scrambling and a few near spills of her own, she caught Tish. Wild-eyed with alarm, the pudgy little dog wiggled, getting the front of Sadie’s gown wet before settling against her and tucking her head into Sadie’s underarm.
“There you go, Tish,” she crooned softly. “It’s okay now. I’ve got you. I’d never hurt you.”
Cradling the fat little dog securely, Sadie came back to Buck. She kissed the dog’s ear, which thankfully had fur on it. “Thank you, Buck.” She kissed the dog again, and her voice went soft and sweet. “She’s more trouble than three Great Danes, but I already love her.”
Watching Sadie, Buck felt a funny melting sensation in his chest. Sadie the spinster really did seem to adore the animals she took in. How hard it must be to get attached to a pet, and then let it go to someone else.
Yet that’s what she did. Because even though she cared, she couldn’t possibly keep them all. She rehabilitated animals, found them good homes and then said goodbye.
What an incredible woman.
Behind him, the cicada began screeching and took flight. Buck ducked, Sadie squealed. Luckily, for all concerned, it flew in the opposite direction before they had time to get too excited.
“No problem.” Unwilling to wait around to see if the bug returned, Buck shoved to his feet, reached back to pluck the clinging wet material of his boxers off his ass, and nodded. “Now how am I going to get back into my place?”
A blush stained Sadie’s cheeks, making her pink nose less noticeable. Her shoulders slumped and