Maybe just someone she thought highly of, which proved that he was an idiot whose ego had taken more than a few hits over the last couple of years.
“I’m going to let Snoopy out then I’m going to bed,” Piper told him as she crossed the kitchen and bent over to absently scratch behind the ears of a black Lab who looked old and irritated at having been roused from his blanket by the back door.
“I take it this is Snoopy?” he asked. Shelby might have mentioned a dog a time or two, but not having been back to Cuttersville in twelve years, Brady realized how much of the daily in and out of his family’s life he was not a part of anymore. It was a disquieting thought.
“Yes. He doesn’t like to go outside when it’s raining.” She tugged on the dog’s collar, all the while giving him coaxing words of encouragement. “Come on, sweetie. You can do it. Just real quick—then I’ll let you sleep with me.”
Unfortunately, that promise was not for Brady. He’d roll over and shake if it would get him a night snug up against Piper. For a brief second, he considered getting a hotel room. It would certainly be less likely to get him in trouble, but it would require a drive out back by the highway and eighty bucks he didn’t particularly have. He could control himself, and Piper looked none too pleased with him anyway, so the moment of danger had most likely passed.
“Wasn’t Snoopy the cartoon a beagle?” he asked. It seemed an odd name choice for a Lab, in his opinion.
Piper didn’t answer. She just dragged the dog outside, the door slamming behind her automatically. Brady stood there, feeling stupid and useless. He should have offered to take the dog out. What the hell was the matter with him? That was what men in Cuttersville did—they offered to be the one inconvenienced. They didn’t let women drag dogs out into rainstorms. It was a politeness that he had found annoying and sexist when he was a kid. Now he thought there was something to be said for taking care of a woman. He felt like he’d been trying to do that in Chicago for years, and no woman he’d met had wanted that infringement on her independence. Or they felt he fell short when it came to financially caring for them. But money didn’t factor into the equation in his hometown, and given that he was unemployed, there was something refreshing about that.
It made him a douche bag though, for standing in the kitchen, so he pulled open the door and scanned the backyard for Piper and the dog. He had expected her to be right on the back stoop, but she was in the middle of the yard, her cotton pajamas glowing in the dark. He could hear her muttering.
“What’s going on?” he asked, wincing when the cool rain hit his bare chest. “Where’s the dog?”
“He found a mole or something and he’s digging.” Piper turned to him as he approached, shoving a hank of wet hair off her forehead. “First he won’t go out, now he won’t come in. My mom says dogs are as contrary as men, and I’m inclined to think she’s right.”
“Considering your mother is married to the least contrary man I’ve ever met, I don’t think she has any business complaining.” Brady saw Snoopy’s rump raised by the fence, his head burrowed as he pursued something clearly important.
“You’re right. My dad is the best.”
The soft sincerity in her voice gave Brady yet one more reason to steer clear of her. He could never compare to her father. Ever. Suddenly annoyed, he moved past her, the rain pelting him in the face.
“Snoopy!” He clapped his hands twice and used a commanding voice. “Get over here!”
The dog lifted his muzzle and glanced at Brady. He gave a look of longing to the hole he’d been digging.
“In the house! Now!” Brady pointed to the back door, which he’d left ajar. The dog took off running, bounding up the steps and back into the kitchen.
“How did you do that?” Piper asked. “He never listens to me.”
“I have a way with dogs.” More so than women, at the moment, it seemed. “Come on inside before you get soaked through.”
“I think it’s too late,” Piper said. When she stepped into the kitchen and stopped under the circle of light the old schoolhouse lamp created over her, Brady almost had a heart attack.
“Jesus Christ,” he said, before he could clamp his jaw shut. The front of her tank top had taken the brunt of the rain and was clinging to her like a pale pink second skin. Her ni**les were clearly visible, the rounded curve of her br**sts obvious and delectable. The shorts were damp, too, hugging her hips and giving him a view of her panty line as it came to a V between her legs. Raindrops trailed down her legs to her bare ankles, and down her neck across her curved shoulders. He wanted to lick every last drop off of her with his tongue. He wanted to peel those wet clothes from her and see the goose bumps raise on her pink flesh. He wanted to bite that lower lip, so plump and juicy, her skin dewy and fresh from the night shower. He wanted to run his fingers through that luxurious hair and tip her head back so he could taste every single inch of her until she cried out his name in ecstasy.
“What?” She glanced down bewildered, then blushed. “Oh!” Her arms crossed over her chest, which only served to push them up higher, two perky mounds of temptation.
“I’m going upstairs,” he told her roughly, trying to wrench his eyes off her br**sts, but not quite capable of it. “I suggest you change.” Before he did things to her that she would regret. He was sure he wouldn’t regret them, but she might.
He just about ran for the stairs. He was strong, but there was only so much a man could be expected to resist.
She followed him, damn her. “Brady!”
With a sigh, he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and pivoted. “Yeah?”
“Please don’t tell anyone that . . .” She hesitated, running her fingers through her hair in a gesture that tugged her tank top up to expose her skin.
He didn’t think she had any idea how close she was to being taken against the nearest wall. “That what?” That he was about to explode from lust?
“About the, you know, ghost thing. I don’t want people to know.”
He studied her. She looked very uncomfortable. “This town bills itself as Ohio’s Most Haunted Town. I don’t think anyone is going to think it’s odd. In fact, you’d probably be a celebrity.”
“I don’t want to be a celebrity. I don’t want to be anything.” Then she flinched.