After She's Gone (West Coast #3)

After She's Gone (West Coast #3) Page 94

Trent climbed out of the car. A stiff, damp breeze infiltrated the interior and the thought of driving one mile farther in the dark and rain sounded miserable.

“Maybe I could stay for a few hours, you know, until it’s a reasonable time to show up at Mom and Shane’s.”

“Your call.”

All she could think about was tumbling into bed. No questions. No conversation. No sex. Just crashing. “You got a spare couch?”

“At least one. You need a bag?” He was already reaching into the backseat.

“The smallest one. Thanks.” Still a little groggy, she pocketed the keys, pushed her hair out of her eyes, grabbed her purse, opened the car door, and stepped into a puddle. “Did you have to park in the middle of a damned lake?” she sputtered.

“Welcome to Oregon,” he said, and she could have sworn he was trying not to chuckle.

“I’m wearing flip-flops.”

“It’s not like you never lived here.”

She made a strangled sound in her throat, first turning away from, then facing the cold bite of the wind against her face, the Oregon drizzle on her bare arms and legs.

“When did you get to be such a pansy?” He hauled the bag from the backseat and slammed the door as she picked her way up a darkened pathway to his house. From the corner of her eye, she saw movement, a fast-moving black shadow streaking toward her. “What the—”

A dog bounded into view, splashing through the muddy puddles and wet grass to leap up on her. Wet paws streaked her with mud, claws scraped. She sucked in a startled breath.

“Hud! Down!” Trent commanded as he reached her side. The wriggling, whining mass of fur instantly was on all fours. To Cassie, he said, “Sorry.”

“It’s . . . it’s . . .” Hud’s hind end still gyrated, as the shepherd gazed expectantly up at her. She leaned down to pat his damp head, smiling at the eager dog. “Not your fault.”

“I’ll get your clothes clean,” Trent apologized.

“Truly, it’s fine.”

“Sorry, he’s an escape artist. Hud is really short for Houdini. I’m guessing that Shorty, my ranch hand who was watching the place, must’ve left the garage door open. Come on.” He whistled to the dog and headed toward the garage where a side door was ajar and through which they entered the house. It was two steps into a screened-in porch that led to a back door and oversize kitchen. Following a step behind, Cassie waited while he toweled off the dog and checked to make sure there was water in Hud’s large dish.

“This way,” Trent told her as he headed down a short hallway wedged between the staircase and the front door to a small closet. From an upper shelf, he hauled out a rolled sleeping bag and pillow. “I’m not overly supplied with sheets and things. Just moved in a while back, about the time I got the dog.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to sleep upstairs?”

“You’ve got guest rooms?”

A slow smile spread over his jaw. “There’s no furniture in them. I was thinking that since we’re still married, you might want to stay with me.”

She saw the amusement in his eyes. He knew she’d never take that step. “Maybe another time,” she said, and couldn’t believe it actually sounded as if she were flirting.

“Okay.”

Little did he know how tempted she was. It had been so long since she’d slept beside him, heard his deep breathing, felt the weight of his arm flung across her waist, or nestled against the warmth of his naked body, long and lean, spooned up against her. An ache started to swell deep inside her, but before she could change her mind and take him up on his offer, he said, “Suit yourself,” then carried the sleeping bag into a den off the front hallway.

“Two options,” he said. “The couch there is long enough for you to stretch out on, or that chair in the corner actually folds out to a single bed.”

“Don’t bother with the fold-out. I won’t be here that long.”

He tossed the bedding onto the leather divan, then bent on one knee near a wood stove and lit the kindling already stacked inside. “There’s a remote for the TV on the table near the chair.” As the paper and kindling caught fire, he hooked a thumb toward the back of the house. “Bathroom’s around the corner. Should be towels and everything you need in there.”