Travis didn’t really give a shit about the dog. He was far more interested in her, and vaguely disappointed when she hiked the towel up over her br**sts, hiding them from sight. He studied her for a moment, then put his hand out. “Travis. You must be . . .”
“I know you,” she said breathlessly, and then her face blushed brighter. “I mean, you’ve been here before.”
“I don’t remember you,” he said bluntly.
“Oh, of course not.” She seemed embarrassed. “I always try to stay out of the way when family visits. I’m Risa. Risa Moore. You hired me to be your grandmother’s assistant a few years ago. You were there when she interviewed me, remember?”
He stared at her blankly.
“The schoolteacher?” She prompted, then pulled her hair out of the bun and shoved it in front of her face, then made circles with her fingers and held them up to her eyes. “With the glasses?”
A glimmer of a memory hit him. He did remember helping his grandmother hire an assistant. But he thought she’d been middle-aged and sour. This creature . . . wasn’t. She was warm and laughing and he wanted to tug that towel off of her and get another look at her lush body in that black bikini. But all he said was, “Miss Moore. I remember.”
“Of course you do,” she said softly and smiled at him. “I got LASIK a year ago. No one remembers me without the glasses. I’m getting used to it, though.”
It was incredible to think he’d forgotten her. Ridiculous. “I’m Travis.”
“I know,” she said, that soft smile remaining on her lips, though her sparkle seemed to dim a little. Her lower lip wobbled a little. “You’re here to pick up the keys and Gregory.”
Ah, hell. Was she sad about the damn dog or losing her home? Or both? “I’m not here to kick you out,” he began.
She waved a hand in the air. “It’s time for me to move on anyhow. Your grandmother had been pushing me for the last year to go and get another teaching job, but I didn’t want to leave her side. She was a wonderful lady.”
“She was a great lady,” he said in a husky voice, his gaze staying on Risa as she moved across the room. Her hips swayed under the towel, her movements incredibly feminine.
She moved to the foyer table, picked a pair of keys out of the bowl, and handed them over to him. “I’m almost done packing. I should be able to be out of here in the morning.”
“There’s really no hurry,” he found himself saying, wishing she would smile. He wanted to see what she looked like when she gave him something other than the polite smile. What she’d look like if her eyes lit up with pleasure. “Stay as long as you like.”
Her expression grew wry. “I’m afraid I’d just be in your way. The lawyer told me you were only coming by to get the keys and Gregory, so I won’t be a bother.”
Travis mentally cursed. She seemed determined to get out of there as soon as possible. For some reason, that bothered him. It was more than the feeling that he was kicking her out of her home—and he was—it was that there was something soft and vulnerable underneath her friendly, polite smile. Like she was going through the motions and hiding how she really felt.
And for some reason, he understood that all too well.
So he found himself saying, “I’m staying overnight, actually. Thought I’d go through Grandmother Pearl’s things and see if there is anything I want.”
“That’s wonderful. It’ll give you time to acquaint yourself with Gregory, too,” she pointed out.
Like he gave a shit about a dog. But she seemed excited about it, so he added, “That, too.”
Now, he just had to tell his driver that he wasn’t driving back to Houston tonight.
“You’ll love Gregory,” she said softly. “He’s so affectionate and smart. I think you’ll be impressed. He’s impossible not to love.”
Ah, hell. For the first time, her bright blue eyes softened with enthusiasm and her face lit up. She adored the damn dog.
And she still thought he was going to adopt it. “About that . . .” he began.
“Your grandmother wanted you to have him when she passed,” Risa blurted out, her look becoming worried again. “She said she trusted you to look after him.”
“You should take him.”
She shook her head sadly. “I can’t. I wish I could, but I don’t have any place to keep him. I’m staying with a friend in Dallas until I find work.”
“Look, Risa.” He scrubbed a hand along his jaw, wondering why it was so damn hard to disappoint the woman. “I travel a lot. Internationally. I’m afraid there’s just no room in my life for a dog.”
She stared at him as if his words didn’t register. Then, ever so slightly, her head tilted a little.
“It’s not that I don’t like dogs,” he said, giving her his most winning smile. “It’s that I’m constantly at work or traveling. He’d be lonely stuck at home by himself all the time. It’s not fair to him.”
Her lips twitched. Like she thought he was . . . funny?
For some reason, that made Travis bristle. “Is there a problem with what I’m saying?”
She didn’t back down from his cold tone. Those blue eyes sparkled again, and she gestured to the back door. “I think you should meet Gregory.”
“I don’t want the dog, Risa,” he began, but fell silent when she took his hand in hers and began to drag him across the living room to the French doors at the far end of the room. That small, warm contact of her hand touching his seemed incredibly intimate and casual.
How long had it been since someone had held his hand?
She opened the door with her other hand and stepped onto the back porch of the house, then whistled. “Gregory! Gregory Peccary!”
There was a loud, sharp squeal, and he heard the sound of hooves clicking across the boards of the back porch. To his shock, a pig came darting around the side of the house, racing toward her.
A f**king pink and black pig.
She dropped to her knees and held her arms out for the pig, and it dove into her embrace, snuffling and rubbing against her. And her brilliant smile was back, wide and reaching her eyes. She looked up at him, laughter in her face.
“Gregory’s not a dog. He’s a micro pig.” Her lips twitched again. “And he’s yours.”