That embrace. Protective. Tender.
Too seductive in its tenderness. And now she felt herself drowning in his kiss. This wasnât a get-the-girl-in-bed kiss. Sheâd handled those in the past. No, this kiss was a litmus test to prove if they fitted together. At a most elemental level. And, damn, did they fit.
So much so, it frightened her.
She pushed away. âI⦠I needâ¦space.â He didnât apologise. Or step in to convince her otherwise. He didnât leave in a huff. He didnât move. He let her have the space she claimed she wanted.
âIâm not saying I didnât see that coming,â she said, feeling a rush of words begin to tumble out. Oh, please, donât let her sound like a hysteric.
âAnd Iâm not saying I didnât enjoy it. I did. Who wouldnât? Butâ¦but letâs just blame it on the moonlight. And the music. And my most excellent cioppino.
âI know weâre two adults, and a kiss is just a kiss. But if you thought I was sending out signals, I wasnât. Some women might find you attractive but I canât afford to.â
Dear Reader,
Blame It on the Dog was the most fun Iâve ever had writing! Not only did I get to brainstorm with four extremely talented writers as we created the SINGLESâ¦WITH KIDS series, but I got to âgo to workâ every day in San Francisco, a city where anything is possible.
As creative and free-spirited as Selena is, I knew sheâd need a hero who would not be deterred either by her staunch independence or her emotional intensity. Iâve always been drawn to the strong, silent type, so Jack was never far from my subconscious. He has his work cut out for him, what with Selena, her adolescent son, Drew, and their overly exuberant mutt Axel, and, even as I wrote the last sentence, I was never thoroughly certain who tamed whom. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!
All my best,
Amy
PS As a result of writing Blame It on the Dog, I adopted a dog from our community shelter. When Ozzie first arrived in our home, he was every bit as lovable as Axel â and every bit as undisciplined! As my husband and I walked him to establish pack leadership, we rekindled our own relationship. So romance begets romance!
An appreciative fan deserves a little fanfare. Betty Ann D, this book is for you! I hope it meets your expectations.
CHAPTER ONE
THE CRASH RATTLED the light fixtures in Selena Milanoâs loft apartment and made the CD player skip. Earthquake? Twelve-year-old son? Or dog? Betting dog, she turned from the end of the apartment that served as her studio and took a step toward the ruckus. It wouldnât be the first time she had to recycle the remnants of an Axel accident into one of her pieces.
âDrew! Are you okay?â
The response from the area of the loft partitioned to create her sonâs sleeping quarters wasnât good. Barking. Laughter. And a scraping noise that sounded as if someone was dragging a barge across the hardwood floor.
âDrew!â
âChill, Mom, weâre okay.â
She didnât believe that for a minute.
Fortunately, their oversized apartment in a rehabbed city block in the Mission District had once housed a small garment factory. Delicate it wasnât, which was good because her family of three seemed to require industrial strength.
âIâm almost finished here!â she shouted above the persistent noise. âWhy donât you get Axel on his leash? Take him downstairs and wait on the sidewalk, but donât get near Samâs produce.â Sam was the greengrocer in one of the storefronts under the apartment, and Axelâs nonstop tail always came perilously close to destroying the perfect pyramids of fruit and vegetables Sam erected on his outdoor display counters every morning. Although the Chronicle had reported nearly one half of San Francisco voters were dog owners, Selena seemed to have drawn the one block that had little tolerance for the critters.
Axel himself, one hundred pounds of sheer canine energy, burst out of Drewâs sleeping area and charged the length of the apartment, his leash whipping behind him, clearing the landscape like a bulldozer carving a new suburban subdivision. Several feet away from her, he reared up to plant his front paws on her shoulder. Turning her head to avoid his kiss, she smelled the grape jelly before she saw it on his hairy right foot.
Drew appeared seconds later. âAre you ready?â
Longing for the quiet retreat that was Margoâs Bistro, Selena pushed Axel toward Drew. âWash his feet in the work sink. Iâll meet you outside after Iâve tried to rescue this top.â Examining the purple smear on her shoulder, she headed for the lavatory. âAnd donât let go of the leash.â
That dog. Rescuing him had seemed like such a good idea when Margo had found him half-starved and rummaging in the garbage behind her café. Kindhearted Margo would have taken him in, but she had enough on her plate at the time. So sheâd offered him to Selena, whoâd been having trouble with Drew and his emerging adolescent angst. Margo thought caring for a pet would help draw him out of his self-involvement. Boy and dog had bonded beautifully. One could call it a growing relationship. The vet had laughed at Selena when sheâd brought what sheâd thought was a small, but fully grown dog for the necessary shots. Seems Axel was a very large, but emaciated, puppy at the time. Now, ten months and several tons of dog food later, he was a gigantic specimen of overgrown-pup exuberance.