She kissed the dog’s head and held him out toward Brant. “Can you hold him for me and turn around while I get dressed?”
He took the dog, his eyes sweeping down her body again. “Definitely not like a guy.” He tossed her the shirt he’d picked up. “Put this on.”
“I have my own clothes.” She clutched his shirt to cover herself, her clothes still piled at her feet.
He made kissing sounds, and Scrappy licked his lips. “Trust me, Cait, you don’t want to have marsh muck all over your clothes.”
Cait turned around to put on the shirt, and Brant said, “That’s not a guy’s ass, either.”
She glowered over her shoulder as the shirt tumbled down to cover her butt, and she saw an athletic-looking sandy-haired guy coming up the trail behind him. “Who is that?” she asked, taking the dog from him.
Brant turned. “That’s Robert Osten, the manager of the refuge. He went to school with my younger brothers. Mayor Osten is his father.” He waved. “Hey, Robert. How’s it going?”
“You tell me.” Robert’s brows knitted as he looked at Cait standing behind Brant. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, fine, thank you,” Cait answered.
“Robert, this is Cait Weatherby, Abby and Deirdra’s half sister. She had a little run-in with the marsh.”
“I was saving this dog,” she explained. “It nearly drowned.”
Robert’s kind eyes warmed. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Cait. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Cait was still getting used to being part of such a small community. Things were different here than on the Cape, where she could exist in a comfortable bubble of anonymity. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“I’m sorry I missed the grand opening of the Bistro. I hear that you and Abby did a great job of fixing it up,” Robert said.
The Bistro had gotten a tremendous amount of buzz before the grand opening last month, and they’d been packed ever since.
“Thanks. We had a lot of help.” Aiden, Brant, and a few of Abby’s other friends had pitched in to help paint and clean up the Bistro.
“I’ll have to get over there and check it out sometime.” Robert nodded toward the dog. “I’m glad you saved that little guy. I’ve been trying to catch him for weeks. I’ve already reported him to animal control. Do you want me to take him in?”
“No,” Brant and Cait said in unison.
Robert smiled. “Okay, then. I’ll just notify them that the dog has been found. Who should they call if the owner turns up?”
“Me,” they said at the same time.
Cait looked at Brant incredulously. “I found him.”
“And I rescued you both,” Brant reminded her. “Since you won’t come home with me, it’s only fair that we share custody of the dog.”
Robert stifled a laugh.
“Share custody of a dog?” This guy . . .
“Think about it. You can’t bring him to the restaurant when you work, and I’m sure you don’t want to leave him alone all day.” He petted the dog again. “Look at him. He’s terrified.”
She looked at the dog’s sad eyes staring up at her. “I hadn’t thought about what to do while I’m at work.” She handled the inventory and accounting at the Bistro, and when needed, she worked as a hostess or waitress.
“I’ll take him to the marina with me during the day and bring him to you at the Bistro so you can have him in the evenings,” Brant suggested. “I’m there all the time anyway.” He came into the Bistro often to grab a meal or sit out front and listen to Jagger Jones, their musician and part-time cook, play his guitar—or, according to Abby, to flirt with Cait.
“What about when I go back to the Cape? I’m going tomorrow night and won’t be back until Wednesday night.” Cait’s schedule varied from week to week, depending on her clientele at Wicked Ink and the needs of the Bistro.
“We’ll figure that out.” He winked and looked at Robert. “I guess you can get in touch with me.”
Cait gathered her things and put on her boots as Robert and Brant finished talking.
When Robert left to complete his afternoon check of the property, Brant picked up Cait’s backpack, studying her with a serious expression. “Now that you’re okay, I can say this: You scared the shit out of me. I’m going to teach you to swim so the next time you have the urge to be Aquawoman, you won’t get yourself in trouble.”
“You don’t need to teach me to swim.”
“Yes, I do. It’ll be much more fun than drowning. I promise.” He slung her backpack over his shoulder. “What were you doing here anyway?”
“I hike here sometimes. What were you doing here?”
“I was out for a run.” He raised his brows flirtatiously. “Come on, we’ll rinse off in the shower at the marina. I’ll wash your back.”
“I’m not showering with you,” she said as they headed down the sandy path. “My bike’s in the parking lot. I can shower at home.”
“I was only thinking of conserving water.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling again.
“You can keep trying to deny the heat between us, but we both know that won’t last.”
It had to last, because getting together with Brant was not an option, even if he was doing his best to wear her down every chance he got. She felt too much toward him, and history told her not to trust her instincts. Besides, she didn’t have room in her complicated life for a man who made her feel out of control, much less one of Abby’s close friends. The last thing she needed was to get together with him, get hurt, and put her sisters in the uncomfortable position of having to choose between their newly discovered sibling and a friend they’d known forever.
“You barely know me,” she said flatly.
“I know you do your best to avoid being alone with me, and you’re careful, and witty when you want to be.” His tone was dead serious. “I know you put your arm across your stomach when you’re nervous, and you light up when you see Abby and Aiden together. And the thing I like most of all is that you’re less wary around me now than you were three months ago.”
She looked away, feeling too seen, and caught herself sliding her arm across her stomach. She quickly dropped it to her side and focused on the trail ahead.
“I’ll tell you what else I know,” he said in a less-serious tone. “You can’t ride a bike with a scared dog, and we have to take him to the vet to get him checked out and buy him—or her—food and toys.”
She was impressed that he’d already thought about all those things. She lifted the pooch over her head, eyeing his plumbing, and said, “Him.”
“How about that? We’ve got a son.”
“You’re so weird.” She laughed softly.
“I’m taking that as a compliment.” He whipped out his phone and poked around on it as they followed the trail up a hill. “We’ll toss your bike in the back of my truck and swing by my place so I can change, since it’s closer than yours. Then we’ll stop by yours before heading out.” He put his phone to his ear, and a second later, he said, “Whitney, how are you, beautiful?”