Unforgettable. Rhonda Nelson
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nodded thoughtfully, gestured toward the black Lab and winced. Tension vibrated off her slim frame and it occurred to him that she probably wouldn’t have ventured outside to enjoy the view if Beano hadn’t been penned. “I’m really sorry about your dog,” she said. “He’s miserable, isn’t he?”
“Ah, he’ll be all right,” Lex told her, watching the breeze flirt with her long curls. His gaze drifted to her lips and unwanted awareness sizzled along his nerve endings. “I’ll let him come in with me tonight and all will be forgiven.” He’d have to, otherwise other animals might mistake his dog for bait. He was a sitting duck in that pen. “I’m just sorry that he frightened you. Trudy mentioned you’d been attacked by a dog before.”
“When I was little,” she confirmed with a nod. “Still, it was no reason to faint.” She shot him an embarrassed look. “Thanks for, uh, taking care of me, bringing me in and all that.”
“No thanks necessary. I just wish he hadn’t frightened you.” Lex blew out a breath. “He’s big, but he’s harmless. He doesn’t realize his own strength.”
She gazed dubiously at Beano down in the pen and looked as though she’d like nothing better than to believe him. Still, he could read the fear in every line of her body, from the faintly worried line between her brows to the rigid way she sat in the chair.
Lex grimaced. “What kind of dog attacked you?” Probably a chow. Those animals had a reputation for attacking, particularly children. They were intimidated by humans who were larger than them, which put smaller adults and children at risk.
She rolled her eyes and a smile teased her lips. “I’m too embarrassed to say.”
Hmm. Not a chow then, or any of the larger breeds, obviously, or she wouldn’t be embarrassed. His lips twisted into a grin. “Was it a poodle?”
That melted-caramel gaze cut in his direction. “Worse.”
Worse? What could be worse than a poodle? What could be more ignoble than being attacked by a poodle? “Oh?”
She heaved a resigned sigh. “It was a Chihuahua.”
A shocked chuckle burst from his lips before he managed to swallow the rest of it. It took a tremendous amount of effort to flatten his lips. “A Chihuahua?”
She cast him a droll look. “Yes, a mentally unstable Chihuahua. He was in the throes of an identity crisis at the time.”
Lex crossed his arms over his chest, the woodpile and all the other pressing things on his to-do list forgotten. “An identity crisis, eh? How so?”
“He thought he was a rottweiler.”
She delivered the line deadpan and this time he didn’t even attempt not to laugh, but let the sound rumble up from deep in his chest.
“Go ahead and laugh,” she teased indignantly, chuckling herself now. She pushed her sweater sleeves up and showed him her forearms. Tiny bite scars slashed over her skin. “It was very traumatic to a little kid. He wasn’t all that small to a six-year-old, and teeth are teeth. That damn dog scared the hell out of me.”
Lex’s laughter tittered to a halt. She was right, of course. It would have been very frightening to a child. Still, when one thought about being attacked by a vicious dog, a Chihuahua was hardly the first breed that leaped to mind.
“I’m sorry,” he told her, making a concerted effort to wipe the lingering smile from his lips. “I shouldn’t have laughed.”
“Oh, hell,” she sighed. She pulled her sleeves back down. “It’s all right. It is funny. I know it is. I just wish that I could get past this fear of dogs. No matter how I try to reason it away, laugh it away, the fear is still there. It’s more annoying than anything else and I hate the weakness.”
Lex inclined his head. “You have every reason to be afraid. Regardless of how big or little the dog might have been, it still attacked you. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m more embarrassed than ashamed.” She gestured toward the dog. A note of irritation entered her voice. “And now your poor dog, poor—” She scowled adorably. “What’s your dog’s name?”
“Beano.”
“Poor Be—” She paused at the beginning of what sounded like a grand soliloquy of self-disgust and comically quirked a brow. “Beano?”
He flattened his lips. “Yes, Beano.”
“Er…why did you name your dog after an antigas product?”
Lex smiled. “Spend a little time around him, and believe me, you’ll understand the significance.”
A slow grin worked its way across those unbelievably sexy lips, and her light brown eyes sparkled with humor. “Do I really want to?”
Lex gave his head a small shake, rubbed the back of his neck. “Probably not.”
Her gaze drifted anxiously to the dog again and Lex followed her line of sight. Beano had lain down once more and pressed his nose against the chain link fence in a display of abject doggy misery. His brows alternately lifted and settled as he looked back and forth at them.
“You’re absolutely certain he won’t bite?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip.
“I’m certain,” Lex said confidently. “He’s never bitten anyone. Oh, he might jump up on you, give you a muddy, slobbery hug, but he won’t bite.”
She nodded once. “Then don’t leave him penned up. It’s not fair.”
Lex quirked a brow. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“And you won’t faint again?”
“Let’s hope not,” she said grimly. “If you don’t mind, though, wait until I go in. I’ve got a couple of things I need to get out of the car.”
“Sure. Would you like me to get them for you?” Lex offered. The last thing he needed to do was look for a reason to spend any more time with her, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted to be with her, felt compelled to be with her.
She shook her head. “Nah, it’s just a couple of little things. My laptop and the book I was reading, but thanks for asking.”
“No problem.”
To Lex’s unreasonable disappointment, she stood. “Well, I’m going to head around that way.” She glanced at the dog again, chewed the side of her bottom lip. “Why don’t you give me five minutes before you let him out?”
Lex chuckled softly. “Sure.” A thought struck him and before he could issue the order to his brain not to speak, his mouth formed the words. “Listen, would you like me to help you get over your fear of dogs? Beano would be the perfect animal for the job.”
She paused and an equally hopeful yet dubious expression claimed her features. “You could do that?”
Lex gave a hesitant nod. “I think so.”
She seemed to mull it over. “It would definitely help me out, particularly for this weekend. Zoe isn’t going to look like the badass she’s supposed to be if she’s afraid of a friendly dog.” She arched a brow. “I’m assuming Trudy covered all the particulars about the To Catch a Thief event?”
“She did. Sounds like a lot of fun,” he lied. Sounded like a lot of trouble, nothing he’d ever enjoy doing, at any rate. On the rare occasions Lex had any free time, he preferred to spend it rafting on the creek, or fishing. Not playing pretend with a bunch of amateur sleuths. Still, to each his own, he supposed.
“I’m playing Zoe—who is completely fearless—and I’m going to look like an idiot if I faint because of the dog.” She paused consideringly. “If you could help me out with him, I would really appreciate it.”
“I