Diamond in the Ruff (Matchmaking Mamas Book 13) Read online

  Christopher looked at her a little uncertainly. “Are you telling me that you intend to stay here until all these boxes are unpacked and taken apart?”

  She couldn’t tell if he was just surprised—or if the idea of her being here like that put him off. “No—but I do intend to keep coming back until they are.”

  Curiosity got the better of him. None of his old friends from high school had ever volunteered to help him conquer this cardboard kingdom of his. “Why would you do that?”

  There was no hesitation on her part. “Call it repaying one favor with another—besides, my mother taught me to never leave something half-done. The job’s done when the job’s done,” she told the veterinarian, reciting an old axiom.

  She’d amused him—again. “That sounds like something out of Yogi Berra’s playbook,” he said, referring to the famous Yankees catcher.

  The smile she gave him told Christopher that she was familiar with baseball history. Something else they had in common, he couldn’t help thinking.

  “Wise man, Yogi Berra,” Lily commented with a smile as she went back to work.

  * * *

  By the end of the evening, they had managed to unpack a total of five boxes and they had put away the contents of three of them—not to mention all but polishing off the pizza he had ordered. There were only two slices left, which Christopher earmarked for his breakfast for the following morning.

  Tired, Lily rotated her shoulders to loosen them a little.

  “Well, I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” she told Christopher, “so I’d better be going home.”

  He wanted to ask her to stay a little longer. Not to unpack, but just to talk.

  Just to be.

  He found that he liked Lily’s company, liked her sense of humor and her determination, as well. Liked, too, the way her presence seemed to fill up his house far more than the towering boxes she had them tackling ever had.

  But asking her to stay when she had to be up early would be selfish of him. So he let the moment pass—except to voice his thanks for her help as he walked her and Jonathan to the door.

  “You know, this has to be one of the most unique evenings I’ve ever spent,” he confessed, then added, “I enjoyed it.”

  The dimpled smile on his face seemed to work its way into every single nook and corner of her being. Lily returned his smile and replied, “So did I.”

  He wanted to be sure that, despite what she’d said, having her work like this, putting his things away, wasn’t going to ultimately scare her off. So he asked, “And you’ll be dropping Jonny off at the animal hospital tomorrow?”

  She wanted to, but there was a problem. “I’ve got to be at work at seven,” she told him, knowing the clinic opened at eight.

  If she needed to leave the dog at seven, then he was going to be there at seven. He found himself wanting to be there for her. “Funny, so do I.”

  “No, you don’t,” she countered, seeing through his lie. She didn’t want to put him out and he’d already been so helpful to her.

  He pretended to narrow his eyes, giving her a reproving look. “It’s not nice to call your pet’s doctor a liar.”

  Her heart felt as if it was under assault. Her mouth curved again as she shook her head. “I’m not calling you a liar—” Then, whimsically, she made a suggestion. “How about a stretcher of truth?”

  “I’ll take that under consideration,” he told her. His tone changed as he told her fondly, “Now go home and get some sleep.”

  That was the plan. Whether or not it worked was going to be another story, she thought, looking at Christopher. “Thanks for the pizza.”

  “Thanks for the help,” he countered. “And for the kick in the pants.”

  That sounded so callous when he said it that way. “I didn’t kick, I prodded,” she amended politely.

  He laughed as he inclined his head, playing along. “I stand corrected.” Reaching the door, he paused, his brain engaged in a verbal tennis match. He decided to leave the decision up to her—sort of.

  “Lily—”

  There was something in his voice that put her on alert. “Yes?”

  His eyes held hers for a full moment before Christopher put his question to her. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

  This time, the smile she offered began in her eyes. “Actually,” Lily admitted, “I think I’d mind if you didn’t.”

  “I definitely wouldn’t want that,” Christopher confessed as he framed her face with his hands. The next moment he brought his lips down to hers.

  It began lightly, politely, but almost instantly took on a life and breadth of its own, escalating quickly. Along with that escalation, it brought with it a whole host of emotions.

  She didn’t quite recall wrapping her arms around Christopher’s neck, didn’t remember, once anchored to him this way, tilting her body into his. What she did remember was the wild burst of energy that seemed to spring out of nowhere and wrapped itself around her tightly for the duration of that intense kiss.

  Lily’s mouth tasted of every forbidden fruit he’d ever fantasized about. It made him want more.

  Made him want her.

  He struggled to hold himself in check, to only go so far and no further. It was far from easy, but he was not about to pay this woman back for her help, for her providing him with his first decent evening since his breakup with Irene, for giving him his first shot at feeling human since Irene had taken a two-by-four to his life—and his pride—he was not going to pay her back for all that by overpowering Lily and forcing himself on her.

  So, with a wave of what he felt was close to superhuman control, Christopher forced himself to back away from what could have easily become his with just the right moves.

  He wasn’t about “moves,” he reminded himself, he was about sincerity, no matter what his body was attempting to dictate to him.

  Drawing back, he paused to take a couple of discreet, very deep breaths, doing his best to regulate the timbre of his voice.

  “Thank you again,” he murmured.

  She knew he wasn’t thanking her for helping him to unpack those few boxes. She struggled to stifle the blush that wanted so badly to take root. But she didn’t seem to have a say in that. Her body seemed to be on its own timetable, one that had little to do with anything she might have dictated.

  After a beat, Lily cleared her throat, managed to murmur something that sounded like “Don’t mention it,” and then left quickly with her puppy.

  * * *

  She wasn’t sure just how long it had taken for her heartbeat to settle down and return to normal. All she was aware of was that it had remained rather erratic for the entire trip home, and even for a few minutes after she’d walked into her house.

  She was also aware of the happy glow that had taken hold of her.

  This, she felt rather certain, was the very first leg of the journey that ultimately led to genuine affection. Lily stubbornly refused to use the L word to describe what she might wind up achieving since she felt if she did, she might just jinx what was happening.

  Deep down, though she wasn’t a superstitious person by nature, she was afraid that thinking about falling in love with this man would almost assuredly guarantee that there would be no happily ever after waiting for her at the finish line.

  Besides, she hardy knew anything about the man except that he hated unpacking—and he had a killer smile. The really safe, smart thing to do, Lily told herself as she unlocked the front door and Jonathan pushed the door opened with his shoulder, walking right in, would be for her to find Jonathan another veterinarian.

  If she went that route, it would guarantee that she would have no entanglements with the man whose house she’d just left, no further temptation to wander down the wrong road someday soon.

  Oh, who
are you kidding? she scolded herself.

  She had never been one to automatically opt for doing things the “smart way,” especially if that “smart way” promised just more of the same.

  More dullness, more playing it safe.

  And that in turn meant that there wouldn’t be anything to light up her life. Nothing would cause her fingertips to tingle and her imagination to take flight, going to places she would have never admitted to yearning for, at least not out loud.

  “You continue torturing yourself like this and you are not going to get any sleep no matter what you try. Turn off your brain, change into your pj’s and for God’s sake, get some rest before you wind up dropping from exhaustion.”

  Easier said than done.

  Oh, she could certainly change into her pajamas and crawl into bed. The next-to-impossible part of the equation was the part about turning off her brain.

  Her brain, it seemed, wanted only to vividly relive that last kiss and play it over and over again in her mind’s eye, heightening every last nuance to its uppermost limit.

  She was doomed and she knew it.

  Resigned, Lily went up the stairs to her bedroom, her four-footed black shadow following right behind her, barking happily.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Christopher knew it would make a difference, but until the job was almost completed, he hadn’t realized just how much of a difference the undertaking would actually make.

  Each time he looked around, the amount of space surprised him all over again. Without fully being conscious of it, he’d gotten accustomed to weaving his way in and out between the boxes, accepting the clutter that existed as a given. With Lily insisting on helping him unpack the countless boxes, large and small, that had been here for months, the house gradually returned to looking like the place he’d known during his childhood, growing up with a single mom. Lily had not only gotten him to organize and clear away the physical clutter, but through doing that he had also wound up clearing away some emotional clutter, as well.

  Without boxes being everywhere he turned, Christopher felt as if his ability to think clearly had vastly improved, allowing him to finally move forward in his private life.

  It was almost as if his brain was like a hard drive that had been defragmented. The analogy wasn’t his. Lily had tossed the comparison his way when he’d commented that he felt less oppressed, more able to think these past few days. He thought her analogy seemed to hit the nail right on the head.

  As they worked together, he discovered that Lily had an uncanny ability to simplify things. She seemed to see into his very soul.

  Without discussing it or even being fully conscious of it, he and Lily had settled into a routine that was beneficial to both of them. Weekday mornings she would swing by with Jonathan, dropping the Labrador off at the animal hospital, and then in the evenings she would collect her pet and then follow Christopher to his home. Once there they would both tackle emptying out and breaking down at least one of the boxes, if not more.

  They also ate dinner together, usually one she had prepared in his kitchen. It was just something she had gotten into the habit of doing. While he continued to tell her that she really didn’t have to go out of her way like this, Christopher made no secret of his enjoyment of each and every meal she prepared.

  As much as he appreciated her help de-cluttering his house and looked forward to exhibits of her stellar culinary abilities, what he looked forward to most of all were the conversations they had. Each evening while they worked and ate, they talked and got to know one another a little better than before.

  It definitely made Christopher anticipate each evening.

  Oh, he loved being a veterinarian, loved being able to improve the lives of almost all the animals who were brought to his hospital.

  He was lucky enough to treat a larger variety of pets than most, everything from mice, hamsters and rabbits to dogs and cats and birds, as well as several other types of pets who fell somewhere in between. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t wanted to be a veterinarian, and if he hadn’t become one he honestly didn’t know what he would be doing these days.

  But Lily, well, she represented a completely different path in his life, a path he was both familiar with in a distant, cursory fashion, and one different enough for him to feel that he hadn’t actually traveled it before.

  She very quickly had become an integral part of his life. Being around her made him feel alive, with an endless font of possibilities before him. It was akin to being brought back from the dead after having attended his own funeral. He’d never thought he could feel like this again—and it was all because of Lily.

  * * *

  “We’re almost done, you know,” Lily said one evening, pointing out what she knew was the obvious. But it felt good to say it nonetheless. “There are just a few boxes left. When they’re gone, I really won’t have a reason to stop by here after work each night.” She held her breath, waiting to see if Christopher would express regret or relief over what she’d just said.

  His answer more than pleased her—and put her mind at ease. “I could try rustling up some more boxes, maybe steal some from the local UPS office or from FedEx, or the post office on Murphy if all else fails.”

  She laughed at the very thought of his contemplating hijacking boxes. He was nothing if not exceedingly upstanding. “It’s not the same thing.”

  He stopped working and looked at Lily seriously. She had become part of his life so quickly that it all but took his breath away.

  Just like she did.

  “I’d still do it if it meant that it would keep you coming over every evening. Besides, as selfish as this might sound, you’ve gotten me hooked on your cooking. I find myself expecting it by the end of the day,” he freely admitted. “You wouldn’t want to deprive me of it, now, would you?”

  She turned away from the box she’d almost finished emptying and gazed at him, a hint of a pleased smile playing on her lips. “Just so I’m clear on this, let me get this straight. You want me to keep coming over so I can continue unpacking your boxes and cooking your dinner, is that right?”

  “What I want,” he told her, crossing over to Lily and taking the book that she’d just removed from the last box out of her hands, “is to continue having you to look forward to each evening.”

  His eyes on hers, Christopher let the book he’d just taken out of her hands fall to the floor.

  He realized that he was risking a great deal, crawling out on a limb that had no safety net beneath it. But if he didn’t, if he didn’t say something, he ran the very real risk of losing her, of having her just walk away from his life.

  This, he knew, was a crossroads for them, for although they had shared an occasional heated moment, an occasional kiss, they had each always returned to their corners, respectful of the other’s barriers and limits. They pushed no boundaries, leaving envelopes exactly where they lay.

  Risk nothing, gain nothing.

  Or, in this case, Christopher thought, risk nothing, lose everything.

  He didn’t want to lose everything.

  “I’d still be stopping by the animal hospital to pick up Jonathan,” Lily reminded him. “That is, if, once we’re finished here, you’d still be willing to have me drop him off with you in the morning.”

  “Sure, that goes without saying,” he assured her. Jonathan barked as if he knew he was being talked about, but Christopher continued focusing on her. “Everyone looks forward to having Jonny around during the day. But that still leaves a large chunk of my evening empty. I’m not sure I’d know how to deal with that,” he told her in a voice that had become hardly louder than a whisper.

  As she listened, giving him her undivided attention, that whisper seemed to feather along her lips, softly seducing her, causing havoc to every single nerve ending within her body.
/>   “Why don’t we talk about it later?” Christopher suggested in between light, arousing passes along her lips.

  “I know what you’re doing,” she said. It was an effort for her to think straight. “You’re just trying to get me to stop unpacking the last boxes.”

  She saw his mouth curve in amusement, felt his smile seeping into her soul.

  “I always said you were a very smart lady,” Christopher told her.

  “And you are exceedingly tricky. Lucky I majored in seeing through tricky,” she quipped.

  “Maybe lucky for you, not so much me,” he told her in a low, unsettling voice.

  He was still playing his ace card, Lily thought. Still managing to reduce her to a pliable, warmed-over puddle. And she’d discovered something just now, in this moment of truth. Christopher wasn’t just hard to resist. When he got going, moving full steam ahead, the man was damn near impossible to resist.

  Even so, she did her best to try.

  Her best wasn’t good enough.

  Gladly taking the excuse that Christopher had so willingly handed her, she completely abandoned the box she’d been emptying, leaving it to be tackled on some other day. She certainly wasn’t up to doing that this evening.

  Tonight had suddenly become earmarked for something else entirely. Tonight she was finally going to give in to all the demands that had been mounting within her, all the demands that were vibrating within her.

  She had given herself endless pep talks against taking the step she was contemplating, mentally listing all the reasons she would regret crossing this final line in the sand. The line separating flirtation from something a great deal more serious.

  And possibly a great deal more fulfilling.

  Commitment and, yes, possibly even love were on the other side of that line.

  But just because she was willing to cross that line, Lily reminded herself, that did not necessarily mean that he did or would.

  Even if Christopher said it, said that he wanted to cross the line and made a show of embracing both concepts—commitment and love—that wouldn’t really make it a reality. She wasn’t naive enough to believe that just because someone said something meant that there had to be even an iota of truth to it.