Page 83 of Men or Paws

She smiled. “Trust me, things are going to work out just fine, you’ll see. Quit fighting it and just let things happen as they may.” She squeezed me so tight I could barely breathe. “I’m beyond thrilled for you. You never know, Rocco could be the love of your life.”

Holly was right about one thing. I needed to just let things happen naturally because fighting my feelings and denying the chemistry that Rocco and I had was too exhausting.

No more hesitating.

No more pretending I didn’t like him.

No more over-analyzing things.

If Rocco asked me out, I would say yes.

If he flirted with me, I was going to flirt right back.

One thing I wouldn’t do was act a certain way or change who I was just because he was Hollywood’s biggest star. He needed to take me as I am, flaws and all.

A wave of nervous energy and excitement traveled through my body from my decision to quit playing games and to embrace uncertainty.

I was going to go for it.

And Rocco wasn’t going to know what hit him.

ChapterSeventeen

Beth

Three Days Later . . .

While Rocco had been gone, I’d perfected three dog cookie recipes and two dishes that could be organic designer meals for dogs. Houdini loved them all. I even managed to create the logo for my new business. Holly talked me into taking a break from working, telling me it was too gorgeous of a day to be stuck inside.

She was so right.

It was a perfect Southern California day, sunny, eighty degrees, a gentle breeze swaying the fronds of the palm trees overhead. It was as if they were waving to me and telling me to enjoy the water as I floated on my back in the swimming pool.

It was paradise.

Houdini looked quite content, relaxing on one of the lounge chairs, occasionally glancing over at me when I made a splash in the water. He hadn’t tried to escape since the last time, but I never took my eyes off him. Even when I showered, I kept him in the bathroom with me, the door locked.

Rocco was due to return from New York in five hours. Five hours and twenty-two minutes to be exact, according to the world’s largest patio clock on the wall of the outdoor shower that I happened to glance at a few times. Gwen and Marcello would also be returning right around the same time to be at the house when Rocco arrived.

Unfortunately, he had skipped our last two evening Zoom calls because of his unplanned fifteen-hour days on the movie set. Apparently, there was a mix-up with the scheduling in New York to shut down one of the city streets, so they had one less day to shoot everything.

I was anxious for Rocco’s return, a little bored without him, actually.

Ever since I made the decision to quit being so uptight around him, my imagination had been running wild with all the possibilities and scenarios the two of us could end up in. For example, I had just pictured him at the other end of the pool, slowly swimming toward me, his head just above the water, his hair slicked back, that sexy grin on his face. Then he’d stand, his chest glistening, water dripping from him as usual, the top of his black competition swimsuit sticking out of the water as I stood there wishing someone would drain the pool, so I could say hello to the rest of his body.

I was hoping to get to the part of the daydream where Rocco took me in his arms and kissed me until I saw stars and spewed out gibberish, but Houdini startled me when he barked and ran toward the side of the house. The neighbor’s cat was teasing him again, no doubt.

It was a good time to remind myself to quit fantasizing about Rocco since there was still a good chance nothing would happen between us. I decided to swim one more lap and then get back to work.

This time, I held my breath and ducked under the water. I swam as far as I could before I had to pop back up for some air, before continuing to the end of the pool. I turned around, inhaled deeply, and swam back in the other direction under water, surprising myself with how far I had gotten considering how big the pool was.

My imagination was obviously taking me for another ride with Rocco.

I saw muscular legs underwater.

The legs had a very familiar black competition swimsuit wrapped around them.

I popped my head back up for air again, well, more of a gasp, since I had been admiring the legs underwater a little longer than expected. I used my hands like squeegees to wipe away the water from my face and eyes.