Page 25 of Last Call at the Doghouse

Armi immediately started wracking her brain for alternatives. Surely one of her cousins had a spare room or a couch. Maybe there was an unoccupied house for rent. At fifty, did she qualify for The Egg? Would Aunt Helen let her crash there? Duncan sucked all the air out of the room and he put her on edge. With memories of the erotic dream she’d had, a dream in which he played a starring role, a midnight fantasy she couldn’t seem to shake, how the hell would she survive?

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Sleeping in the same room with a man she was sexually attracted to—even though she tried not to be—wasn’t likely to be the most challenging event she’d face in the coming weeks and months.

“Be a grownup, Armi,” she whispered to herself as she followed Molly up the stairs.

“What’s that?” Duncan asked. He walked right behind her, too close.

“Nothing.”

She would not jump his bones in the middle of the night. She would not give in to the temptation to test whether or not his scruffy beard was scratchy, if his lips were soft, if he was a good kisser.

Holy cow, she was in so much trouble.

Molly led them down a narrow hallway that had Armi feeling a little claustrophobic. The walls were too dark, though the occasional old picture or painting of landscapes and long-dead people broke up the darkness here and there. They were at the end of the hall before Molly unlocked a door and threw it open wide. Naturally, it squealed.

If the bed had been king-sized, even a queen, maybe they could’ve made it work. But the bed in this brightly decorated pink and yellow room looked to be a double. No way could they share it.

After Molly closed the door behind her, rushing off to answer the call of another guest, Duncan dropped his bag on a chair by the window. “I’ll take the floor.”

Armi didn’t argue with him as she placed her own bag on the bed. Maybe she should, but she’d take the bed tonight. By tomorrow night she’d have other arrangements made and they could both sleep in a bed. Separately, in different rooms, perhaps even under different roofs. So she could breathe.

“What’s the deal with your cousin?” she asked, hoping a change of subject would ease her mind. Thinking about Duncan sleeping on the floor while she tried to sleep in the bed was giving her the willies. Not in a bad way, but still… willies.

“What deal?”

“Aunt Helen said no one likes her, but she seems perfectly pleasant to me.” If a bit of an airhead.

Duncan grunted. “Ask your aunt. I don’t have a clue.”

“Couldn’t get her to talk about it, though I didn’t push. I was just curious.” Curiosity in a town like Mystic Springs might be perfectly natural, but it could also be dangerous. This was a good place to keep your head down and your mind on your own business.

“I’m twenty years older than she is, or thereabouts,” Duncan said as he rummaged through the closet for blankets and extra pillows. “The family wrote dad off when he left town. I didn’t understand until recently why it was such a big deal. He and Molly’s dad did keep in touch, and like I said, I met the kid years ago when they visited Dad, but…” He tossed a couple of blankets and two pillows onto the floor. “There were no family reunions, no big holiday celebrations. The couple of times I saw Molly it was brief and unmemorable.”

“The B&B…”

“Came to her through her mother’s side of the family. I don’t have a claim.” He looked at her. “Or want one.”

At that, Armi smiled. “Too bad. I have a feeling Molly could use a good handyman around here. Does anything not squeak or squeal when it’s touched?”

She sat on the side of the bed and was rewarded with one of those loud squeaks. In spite of herself, she laughed. Talk about stamping down temptation! No way was she sleeping with Duncan in this bed. Everyone in the place would know.

Well, hell. That was where her mind went. She took a good long look at Duncan as he arranged his bed on the floor. She’d slept with two men in her entire life. Her husband, of course. Sex with Andrew had been great for a while, then good, then… nonexistent. Did Sonny Camden really count? He’d taken her virginity with the help of a damned love potion, but like it or not he counted.

Did she expect to do without a man for the rest of her life? The truth was, she liked sex when it was good and right. She had a feeling Mitch Duncan did things good and right.

But not tonight.

She needed a distraction. “Didn’t Molly say there would be pie in the main room tonight? Pie and decaf, or tea, or…”

“Hungry?” he asked.

No, not really. “Yeah,” she said. “Starving.”

* * *

He could sleep in the same room with Armi without slipping into that bed with her in the middle of the night. He could. He would.

He’d try.