Three Alarm Tenant. Christa Maurice
you could buy a house, and then you wouldn’t have to ask.”
Jack shot the receiver a dirty look, knowing his friend expected one. “It takes a long time to buy a house. I need a place for Archer now.”
“The landlord is a woman?”
Jack felt a spark of desire he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Yeah.” Definitely a woman. Long auburn hair. Great curves. Sparkling chocolate brown eyes. A little formal, but vulnerable too. Just his type.
“Good looking?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Anybody we know?”
“I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her around. It’s only a couple blocks from the station.” He wondered about the other half of her ‘we’. Was it an old family home? Or was she divorced and saddled with a house she couldn’t afford? Or did some other little tangle cause the tenseness around her eyes?
“So you can run home when you forget your St. Florian medal.” Kevin chuckled.
“Very funny.” Jack shifted to read the next line of the application. References. “Can I use you as a reference?”
“She asked for references? I guess so. Do I have to tell the truth?”
“Only if it’s good.”
“Should I tell her what a hero you are? How you run into burning buildings to save kitties who have already vacated the premises?”
“That was a long time ago, and I thought the woman said kiddies. You’re welcome to tell her how much you admire me for my sheer masculinity though.” Jack filled in Kevin’s name and number on the last line. Mrs. Wilson would give him a reference, and Dale was so happy he’d taken Archer that he’d sell Ms. Pelham on Jack without encouragement. Still, he’d give them both a call to let them know.
“You know you can’t date the landlady, right?”
“Ha ha.”
“Hey, you coming over to help me with my plumbing tomorrow?”
“Okay if I bring Archer?”
“Sure. See ya tomorrow.”
“See ya.” Jack hung up and double-checked the phone numbers. Then, he called Mrs. Wilson and Dale to make sure they didn’t mind being his other references. Mrs. Wilson was happy to help, and Dale promised to convince her Archer was well behaved.
Jack inspected the application, wondering how to skew the decision in his favor. The apartment was perfect. And the landlady wasn’t anything to sneeze at.
Archer put his big head on Jack’s leg. Jack looked at him. He looked like a Rottweiller, but he didn’t have the typical markings and his face was longer and leaner. He couldn’t be happy in this little apartment. The apartment on Jefferson would be big enough for him to move around without bumping into things and had lots of yard to chase squirrels in. “What do you want, boy? Do you want to go meet the landlady?”
Archer’s ears perked up. All he heard was ‘go.’
“All right, come on. Let’s go.”
Archer danced around the tiny kitchen, crashing into the cupboards and the table. Jack grabbed the leash and his keys. She’d seemed interested in the dog. She might like the idea of having one around. Maybe meeting him would convince the lovely Ms. Pelham.
Aw, who was he kidding? He wasn’t going back to drop off the application as soon as possible, or so she could meet Archer. He was going back so he could see her.
* * * *
Katherine gathered up the graded quizzes and put them into her book bag. She hadn’t assigned enough homework last week. She’d finished grading, and the weekend wasn’t halfway over. What was she supposed to do with the rest of it? She grimaced. Maybe she should devote time to her bustling social life. Why, she had two books checked out of the library. That alone was a huge time commitment. She moved away from her desk and studied the room.
She’d lined the walls with shelves constructed of milk crates and boards. Most of the shelves bowed under the weight of books. Shortly after they bought the house, she’d talked to the school janitor about building real shelves, but Gary nixed the idea. He said he’d make them himself. He never had. Time ran out.
Katherine hung her book bag on the doorknob. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the office did have bad memories. She wandered to her living room, trying to think of some way to waste the rest of the weekend. Her friends told her to move on. It had been four years. Get out and date. Have fun. Start over. The whole idea made her feel ill.
She’d never been outgoing, and the notion of hanging around a smoky bar trying to meet a nice, intelligent guy who wasn’t trying to get himself killed for a living didn’t sound like fun. She’d rather live alone. There had to be other ways to meet men who weren’t heroes, teachers or, heaven forbid, school janitors. Maybe one would move in downstairs.
Like the guy she’d shown the apartment to this morning. He seemed nice and looked even nicer. She could recall the clever glint in his eyes and the timbre of his voice. Wrapping her arms around herself, she remembered how it felt when he caught her after the door burst open. The way his arms supported her. If he brought back the application, she’d know about his job. And if he moved in right downstairs, something might happen.
A vehicle pulled into the driveway. Jack Conley’s truck. What was he doing back already? Was the apartment that much of a bargain, or was he desperate to move? He climbed out, pushing something back inside, and closed the door. Immediately, a dog’s head poked out of the open driver’s side window.
Archer. At least that’s what she thought the name was.
He was big and black. Exactly the kind of dog a guy like Jack would have. And exactly the kind she’d always wanted to play with and have patrolling the backyard.
The sharp knock at the door startled her, even though she'd expected it. Katherine took a deep breath. A gorgeous man with a great dog, and he wanted to rent her first floor so much he’d returned the application before the ink was dry. Perfect, right? There had to be a catch. This was her life. There was always a catch. She answered the door trying to appear calm.
“Hello.”
He stood holding the paperwork out. “I filled this out. I thought I’d see if you were home.”
Katherine took it without looking, her heart fighting up her throat. “Thank you. Is that your dog?”
Jack glanced at the truck. “That’s Archer. You want to meet him?”
“Sure.” Katherine tried not to sound eager, but failed.
Jack led the way down the steps. Archer’s face swiveled from one to the other, his long pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. Jack scratched his ears and the dog closed his eyes, leaning into Jack’s hand. “Archer, this is Ms. Pelham. Ms. Pelham, this is Archer.”
“Call me Katherine.” She clasped her hands behind her back, afraid of what they might do given the opportunity. He was wearing the blue fleece jacket again. She wanted to pet him as much as she wanted to pet his dog. Maybe more.
“Katherine.” He grinned, leaning against the side of the truck with his hands in his pockets. “You can pet him. He doesn’t bite.”
She reached out to the dog cautiously. She’d been bitten before, but this dog didn’t look as if he would. As the tips of her fingers touched his head, he twisted and licked her hand with his sloppy tongue.
“Oh, thanks.” She wiped her hand on her jeans before trying again. This time Archer allowed her to stroke the top of his head. His short fur felt smooth and slick under her fingers. “He’s very pretty. Did you say you just got him?”
“A friend of mine had a kid. They were afraid to have a big dog around a baby.”
Katherine