I went down with a lowoofof surprise, but quickly recovered. My gloved hands automatically lifted to scruff the puppy’s thick coat as he trampled me with full-body enthusiasm. I couldn’t contain my squeals of laughter as a wet pink tongue licked furiously at my face, covering me instantly in saliva.
“Socks!” Cade boomed with quiet authority. “Sit.”
The puppy sat. Though, he couldn’t quite contain his excitement — his tail was wagging so forcefully across the porch, it rocked his entire fluffy body back and forth. He was panting with the effort to follow orders, his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth. His glossy brown eyes were fixed on me as I sat up, wiping at my face with the sleeve of my blouse. He was looking at me like he thought I was the greatest thing he’d ever seen in his short time on this earth. Better than milk bones and kibble and all the toys in the pet store.
At least, he was — until Cade dropped into a crouch beside me and murmured, “Come here, boy.”
I was instantly forgotten.
In the throes of doggie adoration, Socks barreled forward on massive paws he hadn’t quite grown into yet. (He was going to be big, that was certain.) He made impact with the full force of his body, but Cade didn’t go back on his ass. He merely grinned as he began to scruff the thick black fur behind Socks’ ears. The puppy let out a series of happy sounds — half yelp, half whine. It was clear Cade was his favorite human of all time.
“Who’s my good boy?” Cade asked in a soft voice meant only for his dog. “Who’s the best boy?”
A warm, fuzzy feeling — one I was becoming alarmingly accustomed to — began to radiate through me as I watched the two of them. There was a gentle look on Cade’s face I’d never seen before.
I’d give just about anything to have him turn that look my way.
I banished the insane thought as I climbed to my feet. “You didn’t tell me you owned the cutest puppy ever to exist.”
Cade craned his head back to look at me, his hands still deep in Socks’ fur. “You didn’t ask.”
No, I supposed I hadn’t.
Cade ushered us into the house and shut the door. Socks’ nails clacked against the hardwood as he scampered around in circles by our feet, trying to capture our attention. The foyer came into full view when Cade flipped on the lights. It was sparsely furnished, with only a small entry table and a utilitarian mat to wipe your shoes. There were at least four pairs of big boots piled in the corner. No artwork anywhere to be seen on the walls. No personal touches.
“Okay, tour starts now and won’t take long, seeing as this place could fit in a crackerjack box,” Cade said, steering me into the adjacent room with one hand at the small of my back. “This is the living room.”
I glanced around, taking in the sectional, the television, the coffee table, the doggie crate in the corner… and not much else. Only a few chew toys littered across the floor. Like the foyer, I saw no art, no knickknacks. It was a nice space, with big windows and a vaulted ceiling that gave the illusion of more square footage, but it was decidedly empty. The walls looked like they’d been freshly skimmed, but needed priming and painting.
I pushed down the urge to ask him how long he’d been living here. Weeks? Months? Since he moved to Salem a year ago? Given the state of things, I’d guess not long.
“Moving on,” Cade murmured, spurring me forward through a wide archway into a surprisingly large kitchen. The ceilings were high here as well, and even in the dark, I could tell the windows looked out over the backyard, to the Atlantic Ocean. I’d bet it was a beautiful spot to stand and sip coffee in the morning. That said, it was crying out for new countertops and I’d bet the appliances were old enough to apply for a driver’s license.
“Bedrooms and bathroom are down that hall.” He dipped his chin toward the back corridor that fed off the kitchen. “The master is decent size. The smaller one will probably end up an office, though I fucking hate the thought of bringing work home with me.”
I digested that in silence.
Cade Hightower was not the kind of man who sat behind a desk. He was made for the field. A born extrovert, who thrived on human connections. I’d noticed that about him from the very first time we met.
“And that concludes our tour.”
I met his eyes. “It’s nice, Cade. Really nice.”
“It’s not,” he corrected, sounding amused. “But it will be. Eventually. Right now, it’s a work in progress. I’ve been here four months. In those four months, my big plans for renovation got somewhat sidetracked by the adoption of the sock-monster.”
I smiled as I looked down at said monster. He was licking the floor. “Sounds to me like you have your priorities straight.”
“Glad you think so.”
Before I could chicken out, I slipped my small leather backpack off my shoulder and unzipped it to retrieve the package I’d stashed in there this morning. “Speaking of Socks… I, uh… got him something.”
Cade stilled in the middle of the kitchen. “What?”
Socks gave up on licking the floor, plunked down on his master’s boots, and immediately started chewing his laces.
“Goldie?” Cade prompted.
Damn and blast.