The feelings she’d evoked in him both excited and terrified him, leaving him wondering what would happen between them now.
Trying not to think too far ahead, he took a quick, hot shower to loosen his stiff muscles, made use of a disposable pink razor he found in her medicine cabinet, then donned the same wrinkled clothes he’d thrown on last night when Annie called. The least he could do, he thought grimly, was to take care of her dog today while she worked.
After a quick trip to the hardware store for supplies, he spent the rest of the morning building a pen in Annie’s backyard. Ideally the whole yard would be fenced to give the dog room to run free, but this would have to do until she could make other arrangements. Bozo seemed happy enough with his new accommodations, especially after Trent set out bowls of water and the dry dog food he’d purchased.
Bozo was a good-natured mutt. He’d probably be a good companion for Annie, even if Trent doubted he’d ever make much of a guard dog.
Maybe he’d build a doghouse this evening, he thought, rubbing Bozo’s ears. The goofy animal nearly beat himself silly with his overlong tail. “You really are a clown, aren’t you?” Trent murmured, and the dog yipped happily in agreement.
Trent straightened, pressing one hand to his back, and looked toward the house. He supposed he should be going before Annie got back, whenever that might be. He’d deliberately kept himself too busy to think much about last night, but now that he’d finished the pen, his mind was suddenly filled with images and remembered sensations.
He understood now why he had tried so hard to resist his attraction to Annie. Somehow he had known from the beginning that there could be no easy, casual, undefined involvement with her. Somehow he’d sensed that Annie wouldn’t just invade his life, she would change it—and the prospect of another change unnerved him.
Bending at the knees, he picked up the metal tool-box he always carried in the cab of his truck. A catch in his back made him wince and straighten carefully, aware that he had made too many demands on it in the past few hours. He could do the work he had chosen, he assured himself, but he was always going to have to be aware of his limitations.
He thought of Annie scrubbing floors and changing beds, hauling around her supplies and her vacuum cleaner and who knew what else, and his gut tightened. She deserved better, he thought bitterly—in a lot of ways.
10
ANNIE WAS DISAPPOINTED, but hardly surprised, to find Trent gone when she returned home late that afternoon. But she was delighted with the dog pen he’d built; as usual, he’d done excellent work. And she saw that he’d bought dog food. She set the bag she had purchased beside it, along with the bone-shaped biscuits, a leash and collar for taking walks, and a couple of doggie toys she thought the animal might enjoy.
She had stopped by the newspaper office to place a notice that she’d found him, but her instincts told her that Bozo was a stray, one of the many dogs abandoned on rural roads every day. Perhaps someone had thought him too big or too homely. Maybe someone had preferred purebred dogs over mixed-heritage mutts. Or maybe he’d just been an expensive inconvenience.
Annie couldn’t imagine anyone simply dumping an animal to fend for itself. It had always troubled her to read about the thousands of animals crowding shelters and dying on highways because owners were too selfish to provide secure homes for them.
She had always wanted a dog, she mused, kneeling to pet the happy mutt, but her father had never allowed animals in the house. Too much trouble, he had declared. Too destructive. And besides, he was allergic. Well,
Annie had her own home now and if she wanted a dog, she could have one. And she would take very good care of it.
Promising Bozo she would be back soon, she went inside to find something to eat, having skipped lunch to shop for pet supplies. It was so quiet in her house. It would have been nice if someone—specifically, Trent—had been there to talk to.
Remembering the way he’d looked when she’d left him this morning, sprawled with such unconsciously sexy masculinity across her white sheets, she sighed with a wave of pure lust. She would have liked to see him again tonight, though he’d given her no reason to expect to.
As she prepared a quick meal-for-one, she warned herself not to hope for too much from Trent. He’d made no commitment to her last night. For all she knew, he had merely taken advantage of a convenient opportunity. A one-night fling, she added with a hollow feeling deep inside her. She had no reason to expect anything more.
Yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself from wishing it had been something more.
THE HOURS PASSED and she was beginning to think Trent wasn’t even going to call when the phone finally rang at almost 10:00 p.m. Somewhat nervously, she answered. “Hello?”
“Hi.”
“I was beginning to wonder if I was going to hear from you today,” she said.
“Sorry I’ve called so late. I’ve been busy making more of those little rockers like the one I made for Abbie. The mothers of some of her friends saw hers and now everyone seems to want one. I wasn’t interested at first, so I named a price that I thought no one would want to pay, but I had five orders within a week. Go figure.”
Annie was pleased. “I’m not surprised. Abbie’s chair is absolutely beautiful. Of course people expect to pay a high price for that sort of workmanship.”
“Suckers,” he muttered.
“Behave yourself, Trent. Those people admire your work. It’s a compliment. And, by the way, thank you for building the dog pen. It looks great, and Bozo seems very comfortable in it.”
“I take it you’ve decided to keep the name Bozo?”
“It seems to fit,” she said ruefully, thinking of the dog’s amusingly goofy behavior. “I bought a leash and took him for a long walk—well, actually he took me for a walk. He’s stronger than he looks.”
“How did he do on the leash?”
“He didn’t seem to mind it—to be honest, he hardly seemed to notice it. I think some training is in order.” It occurred to her that Bozo and Trent had a few things in common.