Securing Brenae, page 8
It would be hard enough to have a dog. A woman would complicate his life way more than a pet would.
So why couldn’t he stop thinking about how Sidney Hale would taste? How easy it would be to lean down and cover her lips with his own? How she would look sitting in a chair on his back deck, watching the sun set over the ocean as they drank a glass of wine and watched Hannah frolicking in the sand nearby?
It was crazy.
But one thing Gumby had learned from being on the team was that he had to be flexible and go with the flow. Hell, it was one the reasons he’d gotten his nickname. He’d always been that way. Never got ruffled with the curve balls life threw his way.
The team had also started calling him Gumby because one day, when they were in Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training, he’d been the only one of the six who’d been able to contort his limbs in order to break loose from his bindings.
“Now, will you please give me your number?” he asked.
“So you can let me know how Hannah’s doing?” she asked.
“That too.”
Her brows furrowed.
“And so I can call you and ask you out.”
She blinked. “Well, that’s forward.”
“Yup.”
“Let me guess, women never turn you down and fall at your feet,” she said, exasperated.
“Actually,” Gumby told her, stepping back, giving her space, “I haven’t asked a woman out in longer than I can remember. I haven’t been interested in anyone…until now.”
“Why me?”
The second the question was out there, Gumby could tell Sidney wanted to take it back.
“Why you?” Gumby asked. “Because it’s been a long time since a woman has impressed the hell out of me. I thought I was saving you from a beating, when in reality, you were doing just fine without me. The last thing I expected was for the fight to be over a dog. I’m fascinated by you. I want to know more.”
“Oh.”
She didn’t say anything else, and Gumby frowned. Shit, she wasn’t interested. He’d made a fool out of himself.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “It’s obviously been so long since I’ve done this that I’m losing my touch. I wasn’t kidding about letting you do that background check though. I’m happy to do whatever adopters usually do so I can officially make Hannah mine.”
Sidney put her hand on his forearm, and the skin-on-skin contact was oddly electrifying. She removed her hand almost as soon as she’d touched him, as if she felt the arc of connection between them just as he did. “I wouldn’t mind if you called me,” she said, then bit her lip. “I just…I’m not sure we’re in the same league.”
Gumby frowned again. “I don’t think I want to know what you mean by that.”
“I mean that you have your own house. That’s impressive in California because real estate isn’t cheap. And I live in a trailer that’s seen better days. I don’t have a college degree and do work for the trailer park on a part-time basis. You look like the kind of guy who has a perfect family, a perfect house, a kick-ass job, and you were probably voted most likely to succeed in your senior year of high school.”
“Most likely to turn up dead before his twenty-first birthday, actually,” Gumby told her.
It was Sidney’s turn to frown.
“I don’t give a shit where you live or that you haven’t been to college. I know a lot of assholes who have a university degree who didn’t learn a damn thing while they were there. I have never judged anyone by where they live, what job they do, or anything other than the kind of person they are. And from what I’ve seen in the time I’ve known you, I have nothing to fear from that quarter. If you just don’t want to get to know me, fine, I’m not going to freak out or turn into some obsessed, scorned suiter. Just tell me. Don’t make excuses.”
Sidney stared at him a long moment before reaching behind her and taking out her phone. “Number?” she asked quietly.
Inwardly sighing in relief, Gumby gave it to her. He felt his phone vibrate in his own pocket, but didn’t bother to take it out. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear from the vet later on today. She told me that Hannah would probably need to stay here for a bit, until the worst of her wounds heal. Then I can take her home.”
“Okay.”
“And, even though it might hurt my chances with you and your rescue organization, I have to admit that I don’t know a hell of a lot about dogs. Will you help me?”
“You’re really serious about keeping her?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll help you.”
“Thank you.” He turned to look back at the building before returning his gaze to hers. “Now, I have to go in there and convince them I’m not beating you and that I’m perfectly harmless.”
Sidney smiled. “I did see one or two employees peek out the window, probably making sure you weren’t smacking me around out here.”
Gumby’s lips didn’t even twitch. “Not funny.”
Sidney rolled her eyes. “I need to get home and clean up anyway. I’m sure my boss has a list a mile long of things I need to work on this afternoon.”
Gumby nodded and reached up toward her face. She didn’t flinch away, not that she could go far with her back up against his truck. He gently brushed his thumb against the black mark forming under her eye. “Get some ice on that to try to stop some of the bruising.”
“I will.”
Forcing himself to step away from her, Gumby backed toward the building. “Drive safe.”
“You too.”
Then he turned and quickly strode for the doors to the veterinarian’s office once more. With one hand on the door handle, he turned and watched as Sidney pulled out of the parking lot and merged into traffic.
Feeling as if his life had just made a one-eighty, Gumby couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he made his way back inside to arrange payment and to make sure his information was on file for later.
Sidney might not think they were in the same league, and she’d be right. Gumby had a feeling she was so far above him it wasn’t even funny. But he wasn’t going to let her go without a fight. It had been so long since he’d felt even the smallest desire to get to know a woman like he wanted to know Sidney. She’d surprised and impressed him, and that was damn hard to do.
Just wait until he told his teammates that he’d gone from the quintessential bachelor to being a doggy dad—and maybe even being officially off the market—all over his lunch break.
*
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Susan Stoker, Securing Brenae
