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And then she was on her knees in front of Bandit, who obligingly licked her face. As she ran her hands through his fur she realised what a spectacle she must look. She rose, aware of how much she towered over Mr Cole and Bandit—not to mention the dog shelter lady.
‘I was driving past and saw the sign and...well, it suddenly occurred to me that I’m at a point in my life where I can offer a dog a good home.’
Did that make her sound like a stark raving lunatic? Or a responsible, prospective dog owner?
‘Maybe...’ She swallowed. ‘Maybe, Mr Cole, I could bring Bandit to visit you in your new home?’
* * *
Mac paced back and forth along the veranda. Jo had been gone for over an hour.
An hour!
Anything could have happened to her. His stomach churned. She could be lying in a ditch somewhere. Or wrapped around a tree. What had he been thinking to let her go driving off like that on her own? Had she even driven a performance car before? Why hadn’t he gone with her?
He closed his eyes. He’d have enjoyed it too much. His hands fisted. If he didn’t keep fighting the distractions this cookbook would never get written.
And he had to finish it.
He gripped the railing and stared out to sea. Jo was capable. She’d be fine. He drew air into his lungs. Of course she’d be fine. She’d just be caught up in the experience.
He knew exactly what that felt like.
He started pacing again. He hadn’t done any real maintenance on the car since he’d buried himself out here. What if it had broken down? What if she was stuck on the side of the road somewhere? Did she have her phone with her?
He dug out his own phone to check for messages.
Nothing.
At that exact moment he heard the low rumble of the car’s engine and he had to lower himself to the top step as relief punched through him. He closed his eyes and gave thanks. Jo was his responsibility, and—
Since when?
She was an employee, and that made her his responsibility.
Responsibility and a thorn in his side.
Nonetheless, when she parked the car in front of the house it took all his strength to remain where he was rather than leap down the stairs, haul her from the car and hug her. Those would be the actions of a crazy man. And, despite her first impressions of him, Mac wasn’t crazy.
She bounced out of the car with a grin that held a hint of trepidation and, thorn in his side or not, he silently acknowledged how glad he was to see her.
‘Have fun?’ he managed.
‘I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I hope I didn’t worry you?’ She sent him a wary glance. ‘The car is amazing.’
He tried to tamp down on the rising wave of enthusiasm he felt for the car too. ‘I’m glad it lived up to expectations.’
‘Oh, it exceeded them.’
He closed his eyes and refused to ask her how she’d felt as she’d swept around a wide bend in the road, or what she thought of the vehicle’s magnificent acceleration.
‘But I got a bit distracted.’
He snapped his eyes open and leapt to his feet. Had she scratched his car?
‘What do you mean—?’
And he found a dog sitting at her feet. His jaw dropped.
‘You put a dog in my car?’
‘I... We made sure to use a blanket so Bandit, here, wouldn’t damage the upholstery.’
He stared at her. ‘You put a flea-ridden mutt in my car?’
She grimaced, shifting from one foot to the other.
Get over it, pal, he told himself.
Get over it? That car was his most treasured possession! It—
He suddenly flashed to Ethan, in the burns unit at the hospital, and had to lower himself back to the step. He’d give the car up in a heartbeat if it would turn the clock back, if it would change things. But it wouldn’t.
Nothing he could do would achieve that. What did a bit of dog hair matter in the grand scheme of things?
She moved to sit on the step below him. The dog remained where he was. ‘I know it’s scandalous, Mac—a dog in your precious car. But...’
‘What are we doing with a dog, Jo?’
Her gaze drifted to his scar. He turned that side of his face away from her and pretended to stare out to sea.
‘Is this some underhand attempt to provide me with pet therapy?’
She huffed out a breath. ‘No.’ She patted her knee. ‘Come on, Bandit.’ The dog remained sitting by the car. ‘I... He’s for me, not you, but I don’t think he likes me very much.’
He glanced at her to find her frowning at the dog.
‘Bandit’s is a sad story...’ She told it to him, and then said, ‘So, you see, when Mr Cole’s face lit up so much at my promise to bring Bandit to visit him and he started crying I had to take Bandit then and there. Mr Cole would’ve fretted and thought me no fit carer for Bandit if I’d insisted on getting The Beast rather than letting him ride in Beauty.’
