Love in a Nutshell - Janet Evanovich [74]
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 Stella’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