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“Um, so I’m going out of town next month.”
His mouth pulled downward. “Oh, you’re leaving?”
Why did he look so glum?
“Only for a long weekend.” I stood to grab the coffeepot and poured us both a cup. “So I was thinking…”
“Uh-oh.” He lifted his mug and blew on it before taking a sip.
I snickered because I already knew my idea would be a hard sell. “I wondered if you wouldn’t mind dog-sitting for me? I’d pay you and—”
“Foster…”
“Just hear me out.” My hand on his wrist stilled him. “Please?”
He stared at me hard, then nodded. “Go on.”
“So, Oscar obviously adores you, and I do need a dog sitter for when I’m away. It’s hard to find someone I trust, and I’d hate to put him in a kennel.”
“You want me to take care of Oscar?” His eyebrows hitched upward. “I suppose I could do that, but how would I manage—”
“You’d stay here, and I’d pay the normal hourly rate that someone who does it for a living charges,” I rushed out.
He looked around my apartment. “I…can’t do that.”
“Why not?” When I realized my hand was still on his arm, I squeezed his wrist gently. “In fact, I’d also like to hire you to walk Oscar daily. I used to pay someone to do that before—in Chicago.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
I took a deep breath and got it all out. “My idea is that you stay here with me—in my guest room—for at least a month. Get to know our routine, Oscar’s routine, and that will lead up to me leaving for my trip. In return, it’ll help you get back on your feet. At the very least you’d have an address to use to apply for jobs.”
His eyes were wide as he studied me and considered the offer. “So, walk your dog in exchange for room and board?”
“Yeah, something like that. Plus meals? We could grocery-shop together.”
“This is hard for me to wrap my brain around. You hardly know me.”
“Hey, I know you well enough. You love to cook, your mom did too. You escaped a horrible situation with your ex, and you used to cut hair at a posh salon.”
He briefly shut his eyes and shook his head.
My gut churned. “Maybe it’s you who doesn’t feel comfortable with me?”
“The thing is, I actually do, and it’s…surprising. In a good way.” He bit his lip in this shy way. “Mr. Librarian who reads Oscar Wilde and saw a dog at a shelter with the same name, so he thought it was fate.”
I smiled, warmth flooding my stomach. “And has harebrained ideas.”
“Definitely that.”
I clinked my cup against his. “It’ll be like a temporary roommate situation.”
“And that’s it?” He looked away, as if not wanting to meet my eyes. “That’s all you’d want?”
“Of course.” Wait a minute, was he implying… “Hey, I don’t expect us to fool around again if that’s what you mean.”
His cheeks turned scarlet. “Technically, I’m the one who kissed you first.”
“True,” I mused, then met his eyes. “But unless you want to hook up, I won’t come begging, no matter how much I enjoyed that. I’ll respect your boundaries, unless…”
“Unless I want roommates with benefits?” He cocked a brow.
Blood rushed to my groin. Christ, when he put it like that. But I needed to stay levelheaded. “Would you like that negotiated into the contract?”
“Contract?”
“It’s verbal, obviously.” I leaned closer. “I’m just trying to be more formal because I think that’s what you want or maybe even need. You’re afraid to trust someone again, and I hate that. But I also get it. Just think of our arrangement as you helping me out.”
“And you’re helping me out at the same time?”
“Exactly.” I blew out a breath because he sounded more amenable to the idea. I hoped. “So, what do you think?”
“I…” He lifted his hands and studied his damaged fingers. “Do you really think I could find a job in my industry again?”
“Definitely. My coworkers complimented my new cut.” I fingered my hair. “I have faith in you.”
For the first time, I saw a gleam of hope in his eyes.
“Sometimes it doesn’t seem possible. And I’m not that same person anymore.” He sighed. “I don’t have anything to my name, and I certainly don’t look as presentable as I did before… Likely I’d just be turned down.”
“With those sparkling-white sneakers?” I teased because despite him being in a storm and then assaulted, they were still cleaner than mine. “That’s where I come in. You can borrow whatever you want for interviews.”
“That wouldn’t feel right—”
“How else do you expect to get a leg up?”
I watched as he deliberated with himself.
“All right, then.” He put out a hand. “It’s a deal.”
“Awesome.” When our fingers latched, my arm lined with gooseflesh.
“Where would you like me to start?” He stood, looking tired and wary.
