She rolled her eyes. “You’re not my man, Remington.”
“Yet.” He picked up a spiked leather collar. “What do you think? This’ll make our boy look tough.”
“I think you need that more than Scrappy does, but the spikes need to go on the inside so I can tighten them when you say stupid things.”
He laughed. “I’d gladly wear a spiked collar for you, baby. In fact, you can tattoo Cait’s property across my abs if you’ll go out with me.”
She giggled. Giggled! It was the rarest and most joyful sound he’d ever heard.
“You might have trouble keeping dates after that,” she said. “Once they see you without a shirt on, they’ll know you’re crazy.”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Crazy about you, darlin’.”
“Why?” She drew out the word like it was painful, but she was smiling, and it was a whole different smile from the one she’d shown Davis. It was lighthearted and curious, and utterly beautiful.
Take that, Barrington.
“Because you intrigue me, Cait.”
“Ah, you’re a thrill-of-the-chase guy. That makes sense.” She plucked a brown collar off the rack. “Too boring, right?”
“Definitely too boring for our little guy, and I’m not a thrill-of-the-chase guy. In fact, I’ve never chased a woman in my life until you came along. I never had to. Most women like nice guys who are easy on the eyes.”
She laughed softly and put her mouth beside Scrappy’s ear. “Hear that? Your human is full of himself.”
“Just honest to a fault. You’ll see.” He snagged a forest-green collar off the rack and dangled it from his finger. “How about this? It goes with your eyes, and the color will remind us of where we found him.”
Cait tilted her head, looking it over. “I like it, but not because of your flattery. I like the marsh connection.”
“That’s still a win in my book.” He put a hand on her back. “Come on, Caity, we’ve got a lot to buy.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“Because it fits you. It’s feminine and beautiful, but it’s also strong and unique.”
She held his gaze for a heart-thrumming second before heading down the next aisle.
As they stocked up on dog food, toys, and leashes, Cait’s guard came down. They joked around, laughing and teasing each other. He loved her laugh, and the way she wrinkled her nose when she didn’t want to say she disliked something was adorably sexy. After they loaded up a cart, they picked out a silver bone-shaped dog tag from a machine and had their phone numbers etched into it.
“Let’s put Scrappy the Superdog on it,” Brant suggested.
“Do you want to buy him a cape, too? And we almost forgot puppy pads to use while we’re housebreaking him.”
“I’ll get them, and I’ll get the cape while I’m at it.” He took Scrappy from her and went in search of housebreaking pads. He found a doggy-carrier sling along the way and put it on, settling Scrappy into it. He found the puppy pads, but no cape, and as he walked up behind Cait, he said, “Hey, angel face, check this out.”
She turned with a don’t call me that scowl, but her eyes went soft at the sight of them, and he loved it. Seeing her walls come down was even more fascinating than watching a boat take shape.
“It’s a keeper,” he said. He’d wear it daily if it got that reaction.
He dragged out their shopping for as long as he could, wanting to see more of her freer side. He didn’t know what had changed, but this Cait didn’t carry a shield, and when they left the store with four bags of goodies and two crates, he vowed to do everything within his power to keep things light.
Cait leaned against the side of the truck, cradling Scrappy, while Brant stowed their purchases behind the seat. She hadn’t given Scrappy up for more than a few minutes since they’d found him. Brant knew she had become close to her sisters, and she was fairly close with their friends, but he had a feeling she needed Scrappy in her life as much as Scrappy needed her. He was glad for both of them and a little jealous of the tiny dog getting all that honest affection from their girl.
“We bought way too much,” Cait said, kissing Scrappy’s head.
“I don’t think so. We don’t know how long this little guy has been alone, or if he even knows what it’s like to have a home and people to care for him.” As he righted the seat, he wondered about Cait’s life. Was the big guy in the picture her boyfriend? What was her family like? He scratched Scrappy’s back and said, “We’re showing him that he can trust us to take care of him.”
“By spoiling him?” she mused.
“By showing him that we care and we’re committed to helping him have a great life. That’s what caring about someone or something is all about, making sure they feel safe and happy.”
She was looking at him like she was trying to figure him out, that magnetic pull drawing him closer. He knew he should keep things light, but there was no holding back the truth. “I’d like to spoil you, Cait.”
Her cheeks pinked up, but she didn’t look away, and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. Oh yeah, she felt the thrum of desire cranking up the heat between them, and the curiosity of what it meant begging to be explored, too. Cait had so many sides, he never knew if she was going to give him sass or shut him down, but he hoped to learn everything there was to know about her, and that pink-cheeked confident stare encouraged him to do just that.
But in the next breath, a challenge arose in her eyes, and she lifted her chin in defiance—To herself? Her feelings? To him?—and said, “I don’t need spoiling, thanks.”
“Nobody needs spoiling, Cait. But it sure feels nice to relax and let someone else take care of us for a while.” He touched her arm, and she tensed.
Realizing he’d struck a nerve, he stepped back. Cait slid her arm across her stomach, and his heart pitched. What have you been through? He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to shield herself from him, that he’d never hurt or take advantage of her. But he didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable.
“We should go,” she said anxiously, and climbed into the truck.
He closed her door before going around to the driver’s side. When he climbed in, she looked out the passenger window.
Who the hell made you so scared?
As he drove out of the parking lot, he vowed to show her she could trust him on every level and to find out what bastard had made her feel that scared in the first place.
CHAPTER THREE
CAIT DREAMED ABOUT Brant again.
Of course it was the sexy dream this time, as if seeing him half-naked yesterday and feeling his hard body pressed against her hadn’t been enough torture. In her dream, he’d perched above her in all his naked glory, his alluring blue eyes gazing at her so intently, she hadn’t needed to speak for him to know exactly what she’d wanted. The dream was far more vivid than ever before. Not only had she seen him, but she’d felt every blessed inch of him as their bodies had come together and his deliciously kissable lips had covered hers. She’d felt his weight on her thighs and chest as they’d moved to an erotic rhythm, and it had driven her wild. She’d woken up moaning his name, wet, wanting, and beyond irritated at herself for even thinking about him.