I stared at it like it was about to self-destruct.
“House key,” he clarified. “I was told you have it.”
His chestnut brown brows were arched. Those incredible gold eyes were full of frustration — and exhaustion. He’d had a long day. Longer than mine, given that he’d spent it scouring the streets for signs of Rory. After he dropped me off, he was probably headed right back out to keep searching.
Some of my resolve slipped away.
“Babe.” His fingers waggled with impatience. “You planning to produce the key or am I going to have to strip-search you for it?”
I jolted at the prospect of Welles conducting a top-to-toe examination of my person. My cheeks flamed a bit as I muttered, “You don’t have to strip-search me.”
I reached for my backpack, fished the key from the depths, and handed it over. Welles opened the door, pushed me lightly at the middle to herd me inside, then passed over the leash. He did all of this without stepping so much as a toe over the threshold, his badass combat boots planted firmly on the porch.
“Lock it when I leave,” he ordered. “Lot of assholes out stirring up trouble tonight. One last hurrah before Halloween finally fucking ends.”
I nodded, gripping Socks’ leash tighter. “Um. Okay. Will do.”
He turned and started jogging down the steps. His broad frame cast a long shadow across the lawn as he moved beyond the beam of the porch light.
“Thanks for the ride, Welles!” I yelled after him when he reached the driver’s side door. Then, for reasons unknown, my mouth formed the words, “If it’s any consolation, there are about three zillion women within a ten-block radius who’d be more than willing to turn your day around!”
He paused to look back at me. Even in the dark, I could see the flash of his grin. I thought I heard him mutter something, but I was too far away to make out what. He got into the car and drove off, flashing his headlights at me as he backed smoothly out of the driveway.
I closed the door and glanced down at Socks. He looked as tired as I felt. His eyes were drifting shut, tongue lolling out one side of his mouth. His gangly limbs were splayed out on the hardwood, like he couldn’t quite hold himself upright. Impossible as it seemed, his endless reserves of puppy energy had finally been depleted.
“Same here, buddy,” I informed him, crouching to his level. “I’m so pastready for a snooze, it’s not even funny.”
His head tilted, listening to my voice.
“Unless you want dinner first…”
His head tilted the other way.
“Kibble?”
He sat up suddenly and loosed a low woof. He knew that word.
“Okay.” I scratched him behind his ears, then unhooked his leash. “Dinner first. Then, a thousand years of sleep. Do you think Cade will care if he comes home and finds you cuddled up in bed with me instead of in your crate?”
He barked again.
“I agree,” I told him, smiling. “He won’t be mad at all.”
* * *
A pair of lips skimmed along the slope of my shoulder blade. I was on my side, curled into a ball around a pillow. I could feel the warm weight of a canine form sprawled in the crook of my legs. An even warmer weight pressed itself to my spine as a distinctly human form settled behind me, spooning my body with his larger one.
My eyes cracked open. “Cade?”
“Shh. Sleep, beautiful,” he said, his voice husky. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What time is it?”
“Late. Almost midnight.”
“Is there any?—”
“No,” he answered my question before I could even ask it. “No news.”