Thank God, he let her go and went to the refrigerator to fetch the requested yogurt and a spoon. Bo went to the bar and eased onto one of the stools. She was shaking, both inside and out. He couldn’t know. He could never know. She had to suck it up, hide her feelings-no, she had to ignore those feelings, box them up and seal it tight, until even she couldn’t tell they were there.
He opened the yogurt container for her before he placed it in front of her, the piercing blue fire of his gaze searching her face. Keeping her expression bland, she said, “Thanks,” and put a spoonful in her mouth. Never before had she been so grateful to have something so ordinary to do.
“I’ve never got what it is women like about yogurt,” he commented, leaning his hip against the counter on the other side of the bar. He was still thin, but he had the easy grace of an athlete, someone who had trained his body far beyond the capabilities of most humans. What was he like when he was at full strength?
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. She wrenched her thoughts from that path and made herself shrug. “The texture is creamy. It’s easy, nothing that has to be prepared. When you don’t want a lot, it’s just enough.”
“The same can be said for peanut butter.”
“Do you like beef jerky?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So what’s appealing about gnawing on something with the texture of leather?”
He grinned, his ice-blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “When you finish, you feel like you’ve accomplished something. Why didn’t you stop to eat? Worried about Tricks?”
She scoffed, rolled her eyes. “I knew Tricks would be fine. I was worried about you. I just could see you doing something when you were outside that pissed her off, then she’d get all huffy and not come back inside, and you’d hurt yourself trying to catch her.”
He laughed as he looked at the dog, who was lying on her back with all four feet in the air while she enthusiastically chewed on the bedraggled one-legged giraffe. “Yeah, she’s a terror.” He rubbed the side of his nose, his expression suddenly a little abashed. “You were right. For a dog, she’s damn brilliant.”
“I know,” she said smugly. “I’ve been dealing with her for two and a half years now.” Tricks’s intelligence wasn’t due to anything Bo personally had done, but she was still proud of the dog. She paused, and curiosity got the best of her. “What did she do?”
“I was trying to do too much and got a muscle spasm in my back. She wanted to go outside, and I couldn’t bend down to pick up her ball so I told her she’d have to put it in my hand. She did.” He slowly shook his head in amazement. “Every time. How did she understand that?”
“I don’t know. All I know is, she does. If she could talk and had opposable thumbs, she’d rule the world.” She finished the yogurt, slid off the stool to put the carton in the trash and the spoon in the dishwasher. “How’s your back now?”
He turned to face her, lounged against the counter again. “Better. I borrowed her ball and used it to work the kink out. She thought that was a hell of a lot of fun, trying to get the ball from under my back.”
Bo laughed because she could just picture it. Having someone on the floor on her level was one of Tricks’s favorite things. She would light up with glee… right before she pounced.
“So how did the meeting go?” he asked. “Given how long it took, I’m guessing not well.”
“Pretty good, actually. It was about the Goodings, of course, but we worked out a plan to handle the problem. Mayor Buddy is going to make Mr. Gooding an offer he can’t refuse.”
“Does it involve a horse’s head?”
She stifled a laugh. “Only if the Hobsons get involved. I hope it won’t come to that. We’re offering to drop the charges in exchange for Kyle signing the divorce papers and leaving Emily alone.”
Morgan slanted another of those blue-lightning looks down at her. “What will prevent him from going back on his word once the charges are dropped? Can you trust him?”
“Not one bit. That’s where the Hobsons come in. If he doesn’t honor the agreement, we turn them loose on him.”
He chuckled. “I like the idea. Every town should have the equivalent of the Hobsons.”
“They probably do, but it’s our good luck that Loretta and her husband both work for the town. Charlie is in the water department.”
“She’s married?”
“To her high school sweetheart. Their son is in Morgantown, in his junior year.”
“Is he a Hobson too?” Morgan asked, looking a little puzzled.
“No, why? Oh-her name. Loretta was already working for the town when they got married, and she said it was too much trouble to change everything.”
“I guess keeping Hobson has its advantages.”
“Oh, yeah.” It struck her that their easy conversation was too easy. She’d become too comfortable with him, and he was already too familiar with the town and her life. Time to get out. She bent down and scratched Tricks’s silky belly. “You want to go for a walk, sweetie? I’ve been cooped up in a meeting room all day, and I could use some exercise.”
Tricks released the giraffe and jumped up, racing for her ball. As she passed by him, Morgan caught Bo’s arm, his clasp light, his expression serious. “Do you feel up to a walk? I can take her.”
Part of her was warmed that he was concerned enough to ask; another part of her panicked at both his touch and the close attention he was paying to her. She didn’t want him to notice her, didn’t want him to think twice about her or anything she did. She hid her reaction with a casual, “I feel fine now.” And she did-physically, at least. Her reaction before hadn’t been physical to begin with, not that she wanted him to know it.
“Where do you go?” he asked, looking through the windows at the woods on the right. “I figure I need to know, in case something happens and I have to call in the rescue squad.”
“I just follow the path through the woods, up the hill, and back. It’s about a mile and a half, enough to give her a good walk.” Tricks brought her ball up, and Bo stroked her head, then said, “I need to change clothes, I guess. Hold on, sweetie, it won’t take but a minute.”
She hurried up the stairs with Tricks right behind her. As soon as the bedroom door was closed behind her, Bo blew out a long breath. She needed the walk more than Tricks did, needed the time away from him to give herself a good talking to, to put her dumb-ass reaction in that mental box and seal it tight. She didn’t rule out maybe someday finding someone and getting married again… not completely, anyway. That was okay. That was normal.
Falling for a man she knew was going to leave was just plain stupid. She learned from her mistakes; she didn’t keep making the same ones over and over.
He was leaving. She had to keep telling herself that, because the minute she let herself forget, she was in real trouble.
The following Tuesday, after dinner, Morgan said, “I climbed the stairs today. I’m ready to graduate from the sofa to a real bed.”
“That’s good.” Bo kept her tone absent though her stomach tied itself in knots at the idea of him upstairs, so close to her while they slept. Yes, he’d be in the guest room, and each bedroom had its own en suite bath so they wouldn’t be sharing space, but still… she’d liked the sense of distance, the barrier of the stairs. Now he’d conquered that barrier, and he’d be upstairs with her at night. “I think there are sheets on the bed but I’ll check to make sure, and put towels in the bathroom.”