exchange. âIâm surprised I didnât hear you come in. Iâm not normally a sound sleeper.â She stood and instantly curled her bare toes in the plush rug beneath her feet. âHaving your dog here must have made me feel safe.â She looked at thedog staring back at her from the vicinity of Rileyâs knee. âObviously it was a false sense of security. You could have barked,â she said, giving the dogâs head a gentle pat. âWhat time is it?â
âItâs almost midnight. I didnât expect it to take so long to close the deal on the car. I apologize.â
âI didnât mind,â she said, and she meant it. âWe shared an order of Chung Du Chicken and fried rice, and then he kept me company while I unpacked.â
âSo you like it?â He gestured around the room with his free hand.
She nodded. The cottage was small but comfortable. Decorated in shades of white, cream and blue, it reminded her of the dunes and the lake and the sky. âWho did your decorating?â
âMy stepmother. She wanted to do my house, too, but had to be satisfied with the guesthouse for now. Gwen was afraid, if left to my own devices, there would be leather couches and a big-screen TV.â
If heâd intended to make her smile, it worked. He had a shadow of a beard tonight. His sleeves were rolled up and heâd run his fingers through his hair. His quietude was probably a result of fatigue.
âI must warn you,â she said, âI have every intention of finding a name for your dog and unveiling your furniture. He looks a little like a Jake, doesnât he?â
Riley shifted his stance and took his hand from the doorknob.
âNo?â she asked. âRocky? Archie. Buster.â
He must have noticed her rubbing her upper arms, because he reached to the thermostat to the right of the door and turned up the heat. The dog yawned, prompting her to say, âDroopy? Gumball.â
Ruby had said she hadnât heard of anyone whoâd lost a dog, but since sheâd only recently moved back to Gale, she and Madeline had decided to consult an expert. Rubyâs father, Red OâToole, professed to know everybody in the county, but he hadnât heard of anyone who was missing a dog, either. He hadnât seen any lost-dog posters, and he would have remembered if somebody had posted a reward, which brought up another point.
âIf you really had no intention of keeping him, you would have put up found-dog signs. Banjo?â she asked on a small victorious smile. âSpike? Goofy? Rover.â
âMadeline, he has a name.â
She started. âHe does?â And then, after his meaning soaked in, she said, âHe probably had a name once, but we donât know what it is. Was. He needs a new one. What about Skeeter? Charlie. King.â
Nothing.
âBubba. Radar?â
More nothing.
âAjax. Lucky. Rufus?â
Even Riley couldnât help smiling at that last one. He wondered how long it would take her to run out of suggestions.
Despite the apparent normalcy in the room, there was a current on the air, the thrum of something untried and appealing. He knew what he wanted, had known it from the moment heâd covered Madeline with that throw. It hadnât been easy to back away.
Ordinarily, Riley would have been enthusiastic about todayâs transaction. Heâd never seen a more impressive collection of vintage cars. The owner had enthusiastically shared the history and story behind every one. Yet Riley had wanted to make the damn deal and get back to Gale.
Because Madeline was here.
She looked so tempting standing across the room right now, all sleepy-eyed and tousled, her hair in her face, her shirt wrinkled, her feet bare. He stayed near the door because if he came closer, he would reach for her. And it was too soon for that.
âIf you want to spend your vacation uncovering my furniture,â he
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