Page 80 of Puppy Kisses

Then week three had come and gone.

And now there was this. Neighborly greetings and friendly chats in the fields. Chance run-ins at the store and community events into which Dawn gave herself heart and soul. She’d even thrown a barbecue a few days ago for her friends and family. The sounds of loud music and laughter had carried over the fields so well that Adam halfway suspected her of faking the whole thing just to get to him.

But of course that was preposterous. He’d been invited to the damn thing. Zeke and Phoebe had done their best to lure him out, but he’d refused to cross the threshold. A man had his limits. Attending a carefree, see-I-don’t-need-you party thrown by the love of his life was that limit.

“Look, Dawn,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. He was sweaty and dirty, and he left a trail of wood chips behind, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. There had to be an end to this torture, to this plan she had of punishing him for loving her too much to tie her down. He couldn’t live the rest of his life knowing she was only a short walk away, aware that she might be curled up in bed and dreaming of a world where the two of them made sense. “We really need to sit down and discuss—”

“I thought I heard barking out here!” The sound of Zeke’s voice came as an unwelcome interruption. “And talking, but that’s not as uncommon as you might think these days. Adam has taken to having long, rambling conversations with Uncle at all hours of the day. Poor Uncle always casts me the most pleading glances, but what can I do? He’s stuck in this life of servitude now.”

Dawn laughed and smacked a pair of loud kisses that Adam assumed landed on both of Zeke’s cheeks. “I can’t judge. You should hear some of the conversations I have with Gigi. She’s rapidly becoming the best friend I ever had. She even helped me pick out my outfit this morning. You like?”

“No,” Zeke said baldly. “I’ve told you a hundred times that you need to start wearing jeans and boots out here. A dress that short and flimsy is only going to cause trouble. As soon as you come across your first patch of poison oak, you’ll see what I mean.”

Adam could easily imagine the sensation of her dress under his fingertips. There were any number of short and flimsy dresses Dawn might wear, but all the ones he’d encountered had been very similar in makeup. They slid over her skin and bunched under his fingertips, rustled like silk and fell to the ground in slinky heaps. He’d risked asking Zeke once, back when he and Dawn had first started sleeping together, to describe how she looked. Zeke’s answer had been short and far more descriptive than Adam could have asked for.

“I don’t know how it is, but some women wear clothes in a way that makes you aware, from every angle, that they’re naked underneath.”

Phoebe had been in the room at the time and snorted, saying, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. All women are naked underneath their clothes.”

“Yes,” Zeke admitted. “But when Dawn walks into a room, you know it.”

Adam did know it. He’d never have the privilege—or the pain—of seeing Dawn the way other people did, but when she walked into a room, he was always aware of how naked she was underneath her clothes.

“I’ll take my chances on a rash, thanks,” she said now. “A lady likes to look her best, even when she’s relocated out to the boonies. Speaking of, I put Dawn in the cow barn for you, but you might want to go nail boards across the windows or put an arc of salt around the baseboards. Burning some sage might help, too.”

“We tried that,” Zeke admitted with a laugh. “Not even a hex will keep that animal where she’s supposed to be.”

Adam didn’t contribute anything to the conversation. There was nothing he could say, so why bother? He didn’t know how to make cows do what he wanted them to, he didn’t know how to make women do what he wanted them to, and hedefinitelydidn’t know how to make his heart do what he wanted it to.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Dawn agreed. “It’s almost like you can’t control either animals or people. Like they have wills and agendas of their own, and nothing you do can change that.”

Even though Dawn had basically just said the exact same thing he was thinking, Adam pressed his lips in a flat line and scooped Gigi up. Wordlessly, he held the puppy out. “Sorry about your rosebushes,” he said. “I’ll send a check.”

She didn’t respond for a painfully long time, forcing him to stand there holding out a wriggling animal like an idiot. When she did eventually come forward to take Gigi, she acted as though nothing had ever been amiss between them. “Thanks. Although it might be better if we just wait until the end of the month and make a full tally then. I’d hate for you to waste all those stamps.”

Adam continued to feel like an idiot as Dawn’s footsteps crunched in the distance, accompanied by Gigi’s happy barking. He knew Zeke was still there, waiting until she was far enough away before saying what was on his mind.

“Don’t worry,” Adam said in an attempt to preclude him. “I give it two more weeks, tops. Either she’ll get tired of playing Farmer John by then, or Bea will get tired of having a roommate and kick her out. It’s only a matter of time before we’re back to negotiations for the land.”

“Adam, you are one hell of an expert on cows, but you have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about when it comes to women.”

Adam halted, taken aback by the forcefulness of Zeke’s outburst. His brother was the most easygoing person he knew. Nothing ruffled him—not Dawn asking him to steal puppies, not the idea of running twenty miles at a time, and not even the poker game that had led to this disaster in the first place.

“I do too,” he protested. “Trust me. This is all part of a game she’s playing.”

“Yeah. A game called life.” Zeke touched Adam’s shoulder. His hand lingered there, making Adam fear what came next.

He was right to be scared.

“You love her, don’t you?” Zeke asked.

Instinct and months of practice almost had Adam voicing a flat denial. No, he didn’t love Dawn. No, he had never loved her. It had all been a fun, frenetic, fleeting relationship based on how nicely their bodies fit together. Period.

“Yes,” he said instead.

Zeke hefted a sigh. “I was afraid of that. You’ve loved her for quite a while, yeah?”

He shrugged, causing Zeke’s hand to fall off his shoulder. The absence of it felt heavier than its presence. “Do you really need an answer to that?”