Hooked

few sequins or at least some ruffles—”
    “Aghhh! Come, woman—” he grabbed her by the hand and headed for the door “—I’ve got to get you out of here before somebody hears you talking like this.”

Chapter Eight
    It was well after dark when they arrived at her home. They had stayed long enough to see the dismantling crew begin work, then had stopped at The Varsity for chili steaks and onion rings. Mickey greeted them eagerly and Finn knelt and ruffled the dog’s fur.
    “I didn’t think of it at the time, but we could probably have taken him with us today. I’ll walk him for you if you’d like.” He reached for the leash and Steph handed it over, saying they could Walk Mickey together.
    He took her hand on the way to the common area and found it strangely cool in his grip. She was withdrawing again. Finn suddenly felt as if someone had pulled the drain plug on the contents of his chest. His heart settled into an aching, empty spot that was cursedly familiar territory.
    There was a renewed tension in the set of Steph’s jaw, and wariness had crept into her eyes. Only someone who had known her intimately would recognize such subtle changes. Something was about to break. Something he probably wouldn’t like.
    He squared his shoulders and made himself remember that kiss.
    “Why is it he walks beside you like a lamb, but pulls like a sled dog for me?” she said, frowning at Mickey’s cooperative behavior.
    “Probably because I’m alpha and he knows it.”
    “Oh, puleeze.” She rolled her eyes. “Not the old alpha male thing.”
    “We established that the first night, when he jumped on me. Notice—” he caught her eye and held it “—that he hasn’t jumped on me since.”
    “So you established dominance and he’s all comfy with that.” She sounded a little piqued, and Finn laughed.
    “The nature of the beast. Dogs are content when they know where they stand, even if it’s in second place. They’re a lot like human males that way.” He felt her hand go stiff in his grasp.
    Aw, hell—what was the matter with him? Finn was getting tired of pussyfooting around what was bothering her—that was what was the matter. He wanted it out in the open, even if he had to push a little to get it there.
    He wasn’t surprised when she withdrew her hand on the pretext of freeing Mickey from the leash for a run on the green. When the dog took off, she stuffed her hands in her pant pockets. Out of reach. He felt his heart sink a little lower.
    “If you don’t believe me, watch the dog whisperer,” he said, just to fill the silence. “Cesar Millan teaches good stuff.”
    “I don’t have much time for television,” she said crisply. “I have business meetings and client dinners to occupy my evenings.”
    “Maybe that’s the problem. Dogs need a pack leader to reassure them and keep them in their place. Maybe you should free up more time to spend with him.”
    She bristled visibly. “I do not neglect my dog, Finn. I make time for Mickey every day. Sometimes I even take him to work with me.”
    The irritation in her voice made Finn snap his chin back.
    “Hit a sore spot, did I?” He was really making a mess of things. Of course, his cell phone chose that very moment to ring, and she glanced darkly at his pocket.
    “You’d better take that. It might be important.” She whirled and headed off across the green after Mickey.
    “Hello,” he snarled into the phone. The voice that greeted him was the one in all the world he didn’t want to hear right now. Lisa, his ex, was verging on hysterical, demanding to know where he’d been and why he hadn’t returned her calls for the last day and a half. He could hear the girls in the background arguing, and he closed his eyes. Why freakin’ now?
    “You should see this dress. It’s up-to-her-butt short and cut down to her navel in front. She may as well be wearing underwear!” Lisa ranted. “I told her she looks like a tramp in it, but she won’t listen to me.”
    “Let me talk to her,” he said grimly, watching Steph bathed in moonlight across the green, feeling the best thing in his life slipping away– again —and the worst thing in his life settling around his neck like a noose.
    “It is not trashy!” Katie’s voice burst on his ear, clearly ready for full-scale combat. “It’s in style—not that you’d know what that is. It’s what all the girls are wearing to prom.”
    “Katie, we’ve talked about this. As long as we’re