Love in a Nutshell

SEVENTEEN

For about the tenth time since Wednesday poker night, Kate tripped over a pair of Matt’s shoes… and it was only Friday. Why would a guy think it was smart to drop his shoes exactly where he’d taken them off? He had big feet, too. And many, many pairs of shoes.

Kate picked up the latest pair and chucked them just to the left of his closed bedroom door, where they joined a bunch of their kin.

“If you want to develop a shoe-eating habit, I promise I won’t say a word,” she told Stella. “It would be a good payback for Matt getting you hooked on potato chips.”

The dog was now a serious chip junkie. Even though she’d gotten sick on them, she still sat longingly in front of the pantry cabinet, where Matt always kept his stash.

Kate’s poodle had food issues on another front, too. Stella had been raised with an open supply of food. Kate would put kibble in her bowl in the morning and the poodle would graze at will. But now, the second Kate filled Stellaȁ”0el a had9;s bowl, glutton Chuck appeared, excited as if Thanksgiving had come around yet again. The instant Kate looked away, the chow was gone in one gulp. Chuck did not believe in chewing.

As though he knew Kate was thinking about him, a bark rolled into the hallway from the living room. And then another. These weren’t excited sounds, more expository statements.

“Woof.”

Kate joined Chuck in front of the fireplace.

“Woof.”

He had barely lifted his head from his napping position.

“What?” she asked him.

“Woof.”

Kate looked at Stella, who had followed in her tracks. “You speak dog. Tell him to stop.”

But Stella couldn’t be persuaded to negotiate, and Chuck had no intention of stopping.

“Okay, Lassie. Did Timmy fall down the well again?”

“Woof.”

“Am I the prettiest princess in the land?”

“Woof.”

Kate could have played her game awhile longer, but Chuck’s hound bark was beginning to make her teeth rattle. She walked through the kitchen and on to the basement door, which was by the house’s back entry. Stella stood at the back door and stared expectantly at her.

“Okay, you first, then I’ll deal with the big dog.” She stuck Stella on the outdoor lead that had been brought over from The Nutshell, and headed back inside.

“Matt?” she called.

He was downstairs working out, a daily event. She heard the whine of a treadmill going at warp speed, but no word from Matt.

“Hey, Culhane!” she yelled, cupping her hands to either side of her mouth.

“What?”

“Your dog needs you.”

The treadmill’s hum lowered as he brought its speed down, then stopped entirely.

“Woof.”

“See? Like that,” she said as he climbed the steps.

When he made the top, Kate was transfixed. He used his right hand to wipe sweat from a six-pack of abs so hard she wanted to trace each ridge with her tongue. Twice.

His smile was slow and knowing. “You probably should let me by.”

Or not, she thought.

“Woof.”

“He’s just lying there, barking,” she said.

Matt moved past her, close enough that she could catch the heat rolling off his body… though it just might have been hers.

Kate followed him to Chuck.

“What’s up, buddy?” he asked the dog.

“Woof.”

“What’s he barking at?” Kate asked.

“He’s barking at nothing. That’s his water bark. He has specific barks for specific things.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You think? Come with me to the kitchen.”

Kate trailed after him. “Amazing,” she said as she watched him claim the empty water bowl and refill it.

And really, she wasn’t just talking about the dog. When it came to Matt, the view from the rear was almost as impressive as that from the front. She catalogued each of these moments to tide her over in her lonely, dog-guarded bed.

“So Stella the Wonderpoodle doesn’t have different barks?” he asked.

“No, but she can now identify an unopened potato chip bag by sight.”

Matt laughed. “A lot of dogs have different barks for different needs. Stella’s pretty smart. Maybe you just don’t know her signs anymore.”

“Maybe, but for now, let’s talk about shoes.”

“Isn’t that the kind of thing that would go over better with Ella and my sisters?”

“Doubtful, Imelda,” she said. “I’m betting if I stacked all of my shoes against yours, you’d win.”

He looked almost wounded. “I don’t have that many.”

“This way, please.” She beckoned him away from the kitchen and to the bedroom hallway in tour guide fashion. “And here we have Mount Culhane, an active volcano, altitude six pairs and growing daily.”

He regarded the pile suspiciously. “How did they all end up here?”

“I’ve been moving them every day.”

“From where?”

“Exactly where you take them off, it appears. It was becoming a minefield out there.”

He was still staring at the shoes. “I’d wondered where they all went.”

“What? They’re right by your door. Don’t you look at the ground?”

“No need,” he said. “I could walk this house blindfolded.”

“Then next time, I’ll trip you up and take them all the way into your bedroom.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Would you?”

Kate realized she had just committed a tactical error and morphed into his maid.

He leaned down and kissed her. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Okay, make that two tactical errors, because she didn’t stop him. And now three, because she was kissing him back.

It had been tough work forgetting just what it felt like to be kissed by Matt Culhane. And it had been tougher yet to block the thought that she was one wall away from him every night. She knew that he sometimes talked in his sleep. She knew that he woke and showered at six. And she knew that right now she’d be beyond blissed-out should they make love.

Telling herself she was ten kinds of crazy, Kate deepened the kiss and touched the wall of muscle on his chest. And while they kissed some more, she ran her fingers down to the waistband of his shorts.

She didn’t know for sure what he’d look like totally naked, but she could give it a good guess based on the size of his shoes. He brought her tighter against his body. She drew in a surprised breath. She had underestimated.

“Aren’t you going to do that magical thing where I’m suddenly on a bed?” she asked. Because she really, really wanted him to.

He made some space between the two of them. “I don’t know. I haven’t made my mind up yet.”

“What could possibly involve our minds?”

She’d been joking, but he looked serious.

“One question,” he said. “If we do this… if I make love to you… what happens next?”

“We go unconscious?”

“No, after that. Does it mean that you’re going to move from your room and into mine?”

“Well, no. But it does mean we’ll both be less tense.”

He shook his head. “That’s not good enough for me, Kate.”

“But back at the hotel you would have…”

“You’re right. But I’ve been thinking about this since we were out of town, and it turns out that I’m not a fling sort of guy. Actually, once I considered I aliit, I realized I never have been.”

Something wasn’t computing. “What about your Keene’s Harbor’s reputation as the resident Don Juan?”

He shrugged. “I’ve dated my share of women, but none of those women have anything to do with you,” Matt said. “You and I are in a different place. We’re friends-the kind of friends I don’t want to give up unless we become something more. So if you and I go there, it has to be with the full commitment to be my lover, because no way am I going to risk our friendship for less.”

“You’re scaring me a little.”

“I probably should be scaring you a lot. Because I mean it, Kate. Once I’m in, I’m all in.”

So unless she was ready for commitment, she had struck out?

“And what about The Nutshell?” she asked.

“It has nothing to do with us. It’s all business.”

Kate crossed her arms. “You wouldn’t say that if it was your house or your brewery.”

“Kate, I paid the bank $200,000 for that mortgage. I gave you until Thanksgiving to make a go of it. But I can’t afford to wait any longer than that. I need the money, either from you or from the restaurant I plan to open next summer.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just not ready for this.”

And while it was tougher than any trek she’d ever taken, Kate retreated to reclaim her poodle. She might be ten kinds of stupid, but for now, she’d managed to avoid adding an eleventh.

THE NEXT morning, Matt walked into his office-or what had been his office before he’d made Kate his personal assistant. Now ownership was questionable.

“Ginger just called,” Kate said.

“What did she want?” Until he had a signal from Kate otherwise, he planned to keep it all business.

“She’d like to know your Traverse City schedule. We’re working on coordinating your calendar so that someone other than you has a clue where you’ll be at any given time.”

“Nobody but me really needs to know.”

“Nice try, but untrue. We also talked about getting bids from subcontractors on the Tropicana, since you’ve decided to be the general contractor. I know you wanted to keep the bids local, but it’s a motel, Matt. You need to take advantage of that. We think you should widen your net some, since you can offer up rooms in exchange for lower price quotes.”

Matt smiled. “You look comfortable there.ortf s”

She looked around. “Where?”

“Behind my desk. With your papers everywhere.” There was a certain order to his pile filing system, and he hoped she hadn’t messed with it.

“Where else would I work? I mean, I suppose I could go use the phone at the servers’ stand, but I figure folks should have to work a little harder for their gossip than just lurking behind me.”

“How about we switch off and at least I get the spot behind my desk for a while?” he asked. “I need to get to the computer.”

She rose. “Do you want me out of here?”

And that was the thing of it. Even though they had a long way to go on a personal basis, and it made him a little crazy to have her close, he wanted her nearby.

“You can stick around,” he said. “I’m just placing a yeast order. We’re coming to the last generation we can use to brew.”

Kate had just moved to the visitor’s side of the desk when a knock sounded at the door and Lizzie poked her head into the office.

“So, business or pleasure?” Matt asked.

“Business, definitely.” Lizzie sat down. “Chief Erikson asked me to stop by and give you an update on the incident with Kate in the brewhouse.”

“I’m guessing that it’s more of a no-news update, or Clete would be here himself,” he said.

Lizzie nodded. “You’ve got his act down. The bottom line is that the brewhouse is as clean of evidence as the arson event. There were no prints that couldn’t be accounted for. I can rule someone out, though.”

“Really? Who?” Matt asked.

“Jerry. It seems that he took on a second job when his wife got laid off from the bank. He was there when Kate took her swim.”

“Good to know. Sort of,” Matt said.

“He thought he could pull off a second job without rocking the boat, but it’s been a scheduling mess,” Lizzie said. “He’s going to come talk to you.”

Matt nodded. He wished his manager had done that earlier, but he knew all about overconfidence sending a guy out to the end of a branch about to break. Matt had done it both literally and figuratively. He could forgive Jerry for doing the same.

“It’s a start, but not much of one,” Lizzie said. “For now, let’s keep things status quo. I know you’ve got the guard service, but we’ll continue with the extra drive-bys, too. And Kate, you keep staying at Matt’s.”

Matt looked down at his desk to hide his reaction to this mixed blessing. Then he started reading thtedx201D;

e papers Kate had left there. He picked one up.

“Kate, what’s this about?”

“It’s a booking contract.”

“I see that. And I see that Depot Brewing Company is contracting with someone named Dr. Love.”

“A blues band. I need you to sign the contract first, of course.”

“Nice of you to recall that detail,” he said.

“I know where I am on the org chart.”

“I don’t have an org chart.”

Kate pointed at a file folder at the top edge of the desk. “You do, now. I was going to post it by the time clock.”

“This is a microbrewery, not a multinational corporation,” Matt said. “With the possible exception of you, everyone knows who’s in charge here.”

Lizzie stood. “I’m all done here. I’ll just leave you to do… whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Witnessing a pretty impressive attempted coup, I think,” Matt said.

“Okay, then.” Lizzie gave Kate a wave. “Coup away!”

Matt turned to Kate as soon as Lizzie left the room. “What is the brewery going to do with a blues band?”

“Start a summer music series out on the terrace when the weather allows and in the taproom when it doesn’t?”

At least she’d made her statement sound more like a question.

“Look, I’m not saying that the idea is bad, because actually it’s great,” he said. “I just don’t have the time to deal with it. I’ve got too much going on up north.”

“That’s the best part. I can do all the grunt work,” Kate said. “You don’t give me enough to do, so if I have this on my plate, there’s a good chance I won’t be nosing into everything else.”

“How good of a chance?” About all she had left to do was alphabetize the pantry and tick off the cooks.

“Very good. And I really think this could work, Matt. You have a lot of summer people who will drive all the way to Traverse City for live music. Keep them in town, and your business will jump.”

Matt just shook his head. She was right. “Write me up a proposal.”

Kate came around the desk and stood close to him. She riffled through some papers, then held up a neatly bound document. “Already done.”

He opened the report and paged through a market study, cosketdocut analysis, and financial projections, complete with pie charts.

“You’re good, Kate. Very good.”

Kate smiled wickedly. “You don’t know the half of it.”

But he wanted to.