3

“My pleasure, Ms. Booth. My name is Ward.” After giving her hand a brief shake, he glanced over at the boys. “Let me round up the rest of the pack and I’ll be right in.”

The boys turned out to be much more difficult to handle than his own nieces and nephews. Nicely asking them to come in got him nowhere.

So he tried a different approach. “You know, Boots was out here all alone in the rain. He’s okay, but I bet he’d be even happier if he could see all of you.”

The boys stopped. Exchanged a look, then started up the steps.

One paused and grabbed his hand. His big brown eyes met Ward’s. “Thank you.”

Ward grinned and inclined his head as the boy darted inside. Then Ward turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Completely soaked, from his curly, dark red hair to his grey slacks, the man stared at him, lips slightly parted. The rain pounded down on him, but he stayed right where he was as if he didn’t notice a single drop.

This wasn’t the first time a man—or someone of any gender really—had gotten a bit tongue-tied while admiring Ward, but this was ridiculous. He rolled his eyes and motioned to the man.

“You can get your fill staring at me inside, dude.”

“Staring at…” The man shook his head and frowned. “I wasn’t…” He looked Ward over as though seeing him for the first time, his cheeks reddening slightly. Clearing his throat, he stood beside Ward on the porch, glancing past the open door. “The boys haven’t spoken a word in weeks. Not since my mother got sick. How did you get him to talk?”

“I saved his puppy.” Ward shoved his hands in his jean pockets and shrugged. “Since you’re back, I should get going. I’m happy everything turned out okay.”

Wiping the water from his hair with his hand, the man spoke fast. “Wait, at least let me give you—” he cut off what was likely going to be a cash reward when Ward’s eyes narrowed. Swallowed hard. “Come warm up a bit. I have some good microbrew. Coffee? Tea?”

The smartest answer would be a polite ‘No thank you.’ The man might not have been staring at him to begin with, but he’d shown interest since, and Ward did his best to steer clear of potential hookups. Or relationships. Or even close friendships.

He had a job he loved and casual friends in committed relationships. One best friend, who’d been his high school sweetheart. No one would ever replace her.

Not that he couldn’t move on, they were better as friends, but after being together almost twenty years?

He wasn’t sure he knew how to date.

Or whether he wanted to try.

This wasn’t a date though. And he did want to ask about the puppies. Find out how Boots had gotten loose. As a dog trainer, he might be able to offer some advice that would keep the dog out of danger in the future.

So he inclined his head and smiled at the man. “I could use a coffee—I think Ms. Booth already put a pot on.” He brushed his fingers through his own wet hair. “And a towel, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Sharp, light brown eyes met his as the man gave him a short nod. Gone was the interest. And the uncertainty. The way the man spoke was polite—almost as though he was speaking to a business partner. “Of course. If you don’t mind waiting for me in the kitchen, I’ll run upstairs and grab you a towel.” He softened his words slightly with a smile. “I didn’t catch your name. I’m Miguel.”

“Ward.” Ward followed Miguel inside, stopping in the entryway to take off his shoes when the other man did. His socks were dry. A huge plus.

Past the wide entryway were two more doors, then a massive hallway with a lush, dark red and gold-striped runner going down the length of the hall, high ceilings, and gold-framed paintings along the pristine white walls between long, narrow windows on one side, and doors lining the other until the hall opened into a wide space with two rounding staircases. He followed Miguel to the base of one, nodding when Miguel pointed him toward the kitchen.

Over to the left was a long archway next to the stairs. In a small room at the end the three puppies were curled up with their three tiny human companions. All filthy and fast asleep on a big round sofa.

Ward’s lips curved as he continued to what looked like the last room on this side of the house, hoping it was the kitchen. He pushed the heavy wood doors open, shaking his head as he took in the extravagance of the space. More high ceilings, a huge chandelier, and a long gleaming, dark oak table with at least twenty fancy chairs around it.

“We’re hardly ever in here.” Miguel came up behind him, all breathless, handing over a towel as he led the way out and down a smaller hallway Ward hadn’t noticed. “I should have been more specific. That way leads to the bigger kitchen that my sister, and my parents, used to use for big events. I prefer the staff kitchen. It’s more comfortable for family meals.”

The room Miguel brought him to was much more like the kitchens he’d had growing up. Space for the modest-sized, simple round table and chairs on one side, a small island with a grey marble top, and stainless-steel appliances between marble counters.

Only, his kitchen had always been cleaner. His mother would lose it if she saw this mess.

Flour everywhere. Chocolate—he hoped that was chocolate—smeared on the cupboards. Boxes of cookies, bags of chips, and other treats open on every surface.

He was too polite to comment.

Miguel seemed to feel the need to explain anyway. “I’m so sorry about the mess. I’d put on a movie for the boys so I could finish some schoolwork, but the second I told them it was bedtime, they took off for their usual game of hide-and-seek.” He sighed and looked over the disaster-zone. “They’ve never done this before though.”