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CHAPTER FIVE
BRITTANY
Grant sounded so weird on the phone. Maybe he was nervous? Poor guy. Nothing to be nervous about. I like him. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been so taken or charmed by a man so quickly.
And good thing he called; I was getting worried that I somehow misread the whole situation. Today was a rather slow day, with only two clients, which gave me way too much time to think about and daydream over Grant. It didn’t help that the last dog was a German Shepherd like Grant’s dog Tory, and an absolute sweetheart.
I look down at my worn jeans and a faded orange t-shirt, that I may or may not have stolen from a former boyfriend at some point, and deem myself acceptably attired for the dog park. Barnabas and Quentin, my two Golden Retrievers, are sitting gazing at the door with big old doggie grins. The minute I got their leashes, they knew we were heading out. “Okay, guys, we’re meeting with a friend of mommy’s, and I want you both on your best behavior.”
Both stand up and turn, their tails going a mile a minute. With a laugh, I open the door and they race right to the older model faded black SUV I picked up a few years ago. I love my dogs and I love my Miata and sadly the two don’t mix well, so the SUV was a needed investment.
They jump into the backseat and within minutes, we’re on our way to the local dog park.
Anticipation thrums through me and I can’t help remembering those amazing kisses of his. I didn’t plan this well, with us both having our dogs with us, but when he called, it just seemed natural to invite Grant and Tory along. Plus, I really am eager to see him again. When he didn’t immediately call me, I worried that I was too over the top during our pre-date and blew it.
Which brings up the question Grant asked. Is this an official date? Does it even need a label?
The park is pretty empty when I pull into the parking lot. I only see one owner there with a gorgeous cream and gray Irish Wolfhound.
Who am I kidding? Most dogs are gorgeous to me.
What can I say? I love my work.
I’m snapping leashes on the boys when Grant’s truck pulls in two spaces over. I see his eyes zeroing in on me through the windshield and throw him a cheery wave.
He gets out and approaches, keeping a firm hand on Tory’s leash. We let the dogs slowly get acquainted through sniffs and then take them into the fenced in area of the dog park.
The Irish Wolfhound gallops over and once the leashes are off ours, all four take off in a flurry of paws and lashing tails. The Wolfhound’s owner, a tall, middle-aged man, gives us a brief nod before returning his attention to his phone.
Grant is in jeans and a t-shirt like I am, and I love the carefree air about him. I find I like him in casual wear more than I do in the dress slacks and shirt he was wearing when I met him. Probably because it makes the age difference less apparent.
He’s older than me by fourteen years, it’s not too large of a difference. Plus, I’m not getting any daddy vibes from him, which is a huge relief. I had a guy try that with me before and it was an instant turnoff for me. Everyone is allowed their kinks, but it’s not mine. I don’t want to be treated like a little girl even if I do get mistaken for a teenager at times. I’m a woman and I want a man that respects me and my accomplishments. Being a business owner by twenty-two is something I’m damn proud of.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I say, walking around the perimeter and monitoring my boys. They’re good dogs, but Tory and the wolfhound are new to them, and I don’t want anyone getting overly excited and getting in trouble.
“Absolutely. When I called, I hoped to see if you were available, maybe for dinner soon?”
“Sure. When are you thinking? I’m done most days by eight at the absolute latest if I have evening appointments.”
His dark eyes widen, his lashes sweeping down rapidly. “You work that late?”
Leaning back against the fence, I look down at the leashes, absently winding them around my forearm and wrist. “My schedule is flexible to make things easier for my clients. I’m young, don’t have a family to care for, and am trying to build my business.”
I shoot Grant a glance. Peter’s talk about my work got to me, even if I didn’t want to admit it at the time. It’s probably best to let Grant know a few things upfront, so I’m not surprised or hurt at some point over this issue.
Except, who am I kidding? If things don’t work out with Grant, I’m going to be gutted.
Taking a deep breath, I look up at Grant, whose brown eyes are fixed on me. It hits me once again how attractive he is. It’s funny, each time I see him he becomes better looking. Or maybe it’s simply that as more of his personality is exposed to me, I find a new reason to appreciate and enjoy his company.
“The mobile groomer is my career. It’s not just a hobby. I take it very seriously. Which means I can’t just ditch clients to go hang out whenever I feel like it.”
A quizzical look comes over Grant’s face, his dark brows bunching low over his eyes. “It’s your job. I wouldn’t expect you to drop everything to spend time with me.” He licks his lips, running a hand over his bristly jaw. “I would love to monopolize your free time, though.”
A laugh springs out of me and I grin. “I don’t think you’d have to twist my arm to spend time with you.” I move a little closer, bumping my shoulder against Grant’s. “I like you, and I’ve been thinking about those amazing kisses the other night. I’m dying to find out if they were as good as I’m remembering.”
Grant’s body angles closer. He shoves Tory’s leash in his pocket and then his hands are on my upper arms, holding me like he’s afraid I’m going to disappear on him. His head lowers, his eyelids drifting closed, showing off thick, sable brown eyelashes, and when his lips touch mine, I swear fireworks shoot off within me.
The leashes tumble from my hand, and I grip his forearms, feeling the hard banded strength of his muscles under my fingers. Didn’t he say he was a chemical engineer? What does he do to get muscles like this?
