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for a lifetime—the way the sun gleamed in her hair, the way her hips swayed as she walked, the curves of her, the strength of her. They navigated the rocks at the far end of the beach, and she hopped along them with an agility he could only hope to master. But what captivated him most was her laugh. If the gentlest summer breeze had a sound, he was sure it would sound like Chloe’s laugh. He was definitely hovering near high-risk territory—he was pretty sure he’d do almost anything to make her laugh.
After they talked and walked and laughed through the world’s problems, rejecting the idea that starting over on a distant planet was the world’s best option, they walked back toward the stairs that led to the street. Thirty yards from them, he saw a brown form huddled near a pile of seaweed. Then he saw it move.
He stopped Chloe by grasping her arm. He hadn’t dared touch her down at the beach, except to help her over a slippery rock, hadn’t trusted himself not to back her up against the cliff and taste her once again.
“I’m going to check that out. I think it’s a dog.”
“More likely a seal.” She fished in her purse and pulled out her cellphone. “We can call Jackie Brandon’s center. They rescue stranded seals.”
He felt her eyes on him as he approached the shivering brown shape. It wasn’t a seal. It was a very hungry, very frightened dog. Its coat was mottled and patchy, and its eyes had the vacant stare of hunger, a hunger that had taken too much of a toll for too long for the dog to seek out food. Scotty’d seen dogs abandoned like this on roadsides in Nebraska; it seemed odd to see them near the beach. His mother had once threatened to kick him out of the house when he’d brought home a third hungry dog in a single month, but he was an adult now, and this dog needed help.
“Easy, boy.” He reached out his hand and let the animal sniff. The dog had a wonderful face, looked to be part kelpie and part pit bull or terrier. Scotty’s anger rose. There were animal shelters, plenty of them; letting a dog suffer like this was cruel. The dog had no collar; Scotty hadn’t expected one. The animal licked his hand, and Scotty was a goner. Just like that, he or she was going home with him.
He turned his head to call to Chloe, then remembered he’d taken the Muni and walked from Twenty-fifth Street.
Chloe came up beside them. “Poor pupper. He’s starving.”
“And in need of serious medical attention. Do you know of a good vet in town?”
“My dad’s vet is great. She’s in the Marina District. You could take him directly there.”
“I’ll have to call a cab. I didn’t bring my car.”
She appeared puzzled at first, then reached down and patted the dog. “Easily remedied. I have mine.”
After that, he really wanted to kiss her. He resisted his urge and scooped up the dog. It didn’t growl or whimper, another bad sign. They loaded him into the back seat of Chloe’s car, and she drove straight to the vet’s office. They got lucky; it was a light day and the vet called him in right away. Chloe insisted on waiting for them. They’d need a ride home, she said with a gentle smile that lanced right through him. He was pretty sure the woman had little idea of her effect on men. Or if she did, she hid it well.
     

     
Helping Scotty with the dog took Chloe’s mind off her worries about her dad. Yesterday he’d talked his way out of the hospital, but only after his doctor made him agree to hire a private nurse to monitor him. He’d continued to be evasive about what was wrong, and the hospital staff followed protocol and wouldn’t disclose information that he wanted kept private. While he napped later in the day, she’d talk to the nurse he’d hired, see if there was anything she should know. She just wanted him better; stressing him out with questions wouldn’t help him. But the compassion in the nurse’s eyes when Chloe left the apartment had told her more than she wanted to know.
She