Page 52 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

Paws and Buttercup met them at the door. Lyssa had barely turned the key over when the golden bundles of fluff and dog flesh hit the wood, pawing and whining at their arrival. As she and Mack slipped inside her living room, the twins went into full-blown puppy attack at first sniff of their master.

Mack fell to his knees and let the pups wallow him.

“My God! I think they’ve grown!”

Lyssa joined him on the floor.

“It’s only been a week, Mack.”

He grinned and roughed them both up.

“I know. I’ve missed these little nuisance makers.”

Buttercup jumped over into Lyssa’s lap. “Oh!”

The pup licked her face.

“I love you, too, Buttercup!”

“Her kisses as good as mine?”

Meeting Mack’s gaze, Lyssa grinned and said.

“It’s a tossup.”

With a sexy smirk, Mack rose and pulled her to her feet. Wrapping her up with his arms locked at her back, he held her close.

“This is crazy. I feel like I’ve known you forever, and I just saw you for the first time about an hour ago.”

“I know,”

she agreed.

“But we have sort of been talking for almost a week. If you can call emailing and texting talking.”

He smoothed back a few stray hairs from her forehead.

“Lyssa, I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. I guess I’m wondering what you might think of that.”

Think? How about just kissing me again? Not a lot of thought required.

“Mack, I would love to spend time with you.”

Paws nudged at the back of her knee.

“And you, too, Paws!”

“I was just thinking. We haven’t gotten that hot fudge sundae yet.”

“And the babies need to be walked. There is an ice cream place just a couple of blocks away. Do you have time this afternoon?”

“I have all the time in the world.”

****

They talked about the dogs, living in Harbor Falls, and the project left behind in San Diego. Along with the puppy nanny business, Lyssa talked about admiring Suzie and Sydney and how they had made good businesses for themselves. She hoped to do the same working with dogs.

Mack talked about his wife, Caroline, and the tragic automobile accident that took her life. He shared they had moved to Harbor Falls a year or so before, because Caroline loved the small town and wanted to raise children there. Lyssa told him about living in Harbor Falls all her life and not imagining that she’d ever live anywhere else.

Over hot fudge sundaes—including the mandatory whipped cream with cherry on top—they shared a couple of hours of conversation about their lives past and present, all leading up to where they sat right then, on a picnic bench outside of the Dairy Barn, while the pups played lazily in a grassy area nearby.

By the time they returned to Lyssa’s place, Mack was yawning, and the pups were ready to zone out on her couch—as had been their custom the past week—while she would watch the news and a couple of sitcoms.

“You’re tired.”

Mack rubbed a hand over his face.

“I took a redeye last night. I never get much sleep on those flights. I should probably take the pups and head home. I’m not sure I can trust myself driving across town feeling this tired if I stay awake too much longer.”

She was a little worried about that, too. Her hands snaked around his waist. How nice and firm he felt underneath that black t-shirt.

“The pups will be fine here for the evening if you want to let them stay.”

He searched her face.

“I was hoping that perhaps, I would do the staying.”

“Mack, I…”

“I know. It’s too soon.”

If the opportunity presents itself, you should take it.

“I’m not sure…”

“Lyssa, it’s okay.”

“No, Mack. That’s not what I mean. I’m not sure it’s too soon. And right now, I’m pretty darned sure you shouldn’t be driving and…”

Her hands smoothed up his chest and pushed the jacket off his shoulders. He continued to shrug out of it while keeping the gaze connected between them. “Lyssa…”

he hissed.

“Kiss me, Mack.”

He sat on the sofa and pulled her onto his lap. The pups jumped up and flanked them on either side, settling in with contented sighs. Cradled against him, Lyssa felt an elated sense of contentment and rightness, and wanted to heave a sigh of her own. This was all she needed.

He traced her jaw line with a forefinger and then laid his palm flat against her neck and smoothed down over her collarbone. His touch trailed heat as he moved back up to angle her head so their lips could meet again. When they did, something surged inside of her and she turned, unable to get close enough.

Holding her snug, Mack kissed her. The nibbles started slow and lethargic, gradually building to a full-mouthed, nearly out of control assault, of lips and tongues. By then, Lyssa had shifted to straddle him, his hands exploring up and down her back, and pulling in to linger at the sides of her breasts while she rained kisses over his face.

She yanked back with a gasp and looked at Mack, slouched against her sofa, looking up at her with dreamy green eyes. Reaching, he grasped her ponytail and tugged away the band that held up her waist-length hair. Brunette waves cascaded around her shoulders and with both hands, Mack wound his fingers into the mane and pulled her closer.

“You are so damn sexy,”

he whispered, urging her mouth closer.

“and I want you so very much right now.”

The rightness of them being together was what had swept Lyssa away from moment one, when she’d looked into his eyes back at the inn. She knew then, that Mack was different.

Special. And the kind of man she wanted in her life. Settling for anything less, would be stupid and childish.

“Worth waiting for,”

she whispered.

Mack grimaced.

“Does that mean yes, or no?”

She shook herself out of her musing.

“I’m sorry. Thinking out loud. What I meant is that I’ve waited long enough. I don’t want to wait any longer. Mack, make love to me.”

“I’m not going to make love and then leave. I want to stay the night.”

“Oh. Uh. I don’t have any food for breakfast.”

“Who needs food?”

With a sigh, Mack lunged upward and took her lips. Untangling his fingers from her hair, his hands dropped, and he cupped both breasts. He thumbed her nipples and a conduit of passion shot through her.

“Let’s take this to your bedroom,” he said.

Lyssa didn’t have to be told twice. Backing off, she stood and held out her hands. He rose and the pups jumped up, too. Wagging tongues and big eyes full of expectation met them.

A sinking feeling hit her gut.

“I should put them in the crates.”

He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose.

“I guarantee you I do not want to be interrupted for the next few hours.”

Crates. Shit.

All the warm-and-fuzziness of the past few hours shifted into ribbons of panic across her chest.

“Oh. Um. About those crates…”

Mack reached for Paws’ collar, picked him up and started toward her kitchen, where they could see the portable crates from the living room. The unused-all-week, crates, she reminded herself.

Dammit.

Paws struggled in Mack’s arms. As he neared the crate, the dog started whining. When Mack lowered to flip open the latch and swing the door, Paws growled.

Yes, growled.

Buttercup barked and ran to nip at Mack’s heels.

Lyssa raced to grab the female pup.

“What the hell is wrong with them?”

She met Mack’s gaze and shrugged.

Paws was throwing a virtual puppy protest, waggling and growling. Buttercup panted, squirmed, and yelped in her arms.

“Maybe if you put her in it will help.”

Lyssa froze. The pups didn’t want to go in. And they’d not been in all week. She couldn’t do it then, and she couldn’t do it now. She stood, unmoving, while Mack struggled.

“Damn.”

Paws was in and the door latched. A howl went up from inside the cage that literally could wake the dead. It cut right through Lyssa, deep.

Mack turned.

“I thought you were putting her in?”

“I, uh…”

“Lyssa?”

“She doesn’t like it.”

Mack swiped a hand over his tired face.

“Well, I’m not going to like her sticking her wet nose in places I don’t want her sticking it in, in a few minutes.”

“I know. It’s just that...”

He stared at her.

“Lyssa, have these pups been crated all week?”

“Well, I…”

At her avoidance, Mack’s shoulder’s fell and suddenly he looked way too overwrought and tired.

“Never mind. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to that question.”

He took Buttercup out of her arms and in a quick motion, stuffed the whining dog into her crate, then turned to her.

“Look, I’m too tired to get into this. I’m taking them home. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Alarm sped through her.

Both dogs serenaded with howls and whines, interspersed with very loud barks.

He reached for a handle. Then another.

“Mack, I’m not sure you should be driving.”

“I’m fine.”

“But with them barking and everything and you being so tired, I’m worried.”

“I’m fine. It’s maybe five miles.”

He took several steps toward the door, struggling with the animals.

“You’re mad at me?”

He set them down and swiveled on his heel.

“Lyssa, I’m exhausted, yes. I’m irritated, yes. I’m sexually frustrated, oh yes. And I don’t really want to walk out of here but right now my brain is a little befuddled. Did you lie to me this week? I asked you if the dogs were in bed with you and you said no. Obviously, you’ve not crated them all week. They wouldn’t be reacting like this if you had. You disregarded my wishes.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m too tired to contemplate sorry right now. My brain is twisted up with the contradiction of wanting to sink myself into you all night long and knowing that you were dishonest with me. I’m going home. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

“Mack, I’m just a softy. I couldn’t put them in. I know I should have, but I didn’t, and truly, I’m sorry. Please stay for a few minutes so we can talk and then maybe you’ll feel like spending the night…”

His stare bit into her.

“We’re rushing this, Lyssa. We both know it. Let’s give it some time.”

Turning to pick up the crates, he headed for the front door, his back now to her.

“Would you open that for me, please?”

Lyssa hurried to the door. As he passed, she asked.

“Will you text me when you are home, so I know you got there okay?”

Pausing, he sidled a split-second glance her way. “Sure.”

Then he was gone. And Lyssa just felt like her entire world had been turned upside-down.

****

Home.

That was the single word that came across in text on her cell phone late Monday evening. All day Tuesday, Lyssa waited for his call. It didn’t come.

On Wednesday, she got a check in the mail for her puppy nanny services. No note, just the check. For services rendered.

Thursday morning, she forced herself up and out of the house. She wanted to stop in at the bakery and check in with Sydney but thought better of it. She’d not been there all week and a strong cup of her coffee would really do her some good right now—but the reality of the situation was that she had dogs to walk. Several dogs, actually. Thursday was her big dog-walking day.

Harold’s mother taught classes at the community college all day.

Sophie’s dad liked for his new pup to have at least one day a week of doggie socialization.

Gilda’s owners were an older couple who played euchre at the Senior Citizens Center on Thursdays and didn’t like Gilda to be alone in the house for long.

Jeremiah needed the exercise to keep him calm. Spot needed the exercise because he was overweight.

Moose and Crackers parents treated Thursday dog-walk day as an outing for the two canines. Another form of socialization.

It was another full day.

She preferred the quieter side of town from North Main and to the west, as usual, avoiding the distractions of Old Harbor Falls near the community college.

This morning, however, distraction was the name of the game and unfortunately, chaos erupted again outside of Sydney’s Sugar High Bakery.

Except, this time it was not Bea Brammel or Mellow Yellow or fidgeting dogs causing the chaos, it was Mack.

At the precise moment that Lyssa passed the entrance of Sugar High, Mack stepped out of the door in front of the dogs. Unfortunately, the chaos was internal, inside her, and not in the streets.

Lyssa pulled on the leashes and stopped mid-stride, stumbling a little, but coming to a halt directly in front of Mack.

“Oh! I’m so sorry.”

Mack stared into her face.

Lyssa tried to keep the dogs under control.

“Sit. Sit!”

Not one dog sat. Instead, they all strained against the leashes.

“Looks like you’re busy,”

Mack said.

“No. I mean. A little. But that’s okay. Do you have a minute?”

Mack glanced at his watch.

“I have a call in twenty minutes.”

“Can we talk?”

Hell, was she really putting herself out there like this? Was her damned heart on her sleeve or something? What the hell did she want to talk to him about, anyway?”

“Lyssa, I’m not sure we have anything to discuss.”

He turned.

She placed a hand on his forearm.

“Please? It’s all a misunderstanding, Mack. I can explain.”

He glanced to her hand, then back into her face.

“Maybe another time. I do have to get back for that call.”

All right. She wasn’t going to be a glutton for punishment here.

“Okay, Mack. Whatever you say. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Then she didn’t wait for him to be the one to do the walking away. She turned and said to the dogs.

“Let’s go, you mutts. We have walking to do.”

She prided herself on not looking back.

She had to get out of this funk. And she needed someone to tell her not to call or text or email Mack, either, that he would communicate with her when he was good and ready. Because she’d been tempted so many times.

But now? After this conversation?

She feared he may never be good and ready.