Samson lumbered down to the pavement and took his time with a deep stretch of his front and back legs. When finished, he fell into an easy trot after Gabe motioned toward the grass island. Oblivious to the rain, Samson sniffed around on the strip of grass before finding the perfect spot to pee. After some more sniffing, he scent marked on a scraggly bush and a broken piece of curb before trotting back through the rain.

By the time Samson was loaded into the back again, the girl—Olivia—was settled in the front passenger seat. She’d removed her wet jacket and had tucked it and her purse on the floor behind her feet. She was wearing jeans that hugged her thighs and a perfectly snug, light-green sweater that drew his attention back to that hair of hers spilling over the top of it.

Gabe paused for a second before sliding into the driver’s seat. It had been awhile since someone that pretty had ridden in his truck, and a bit of tension rippled across his ribs. There was no denying he was nervous about the prospect of riding alone in a vehicle with a chick this good-looking. That was irritating more than anything else. He’d have preferred to think the last few years of being a self-proclaimed hermit had moved him past being affected by such a thing.

Clearly, they hadn’t. His stomach tightened and his throat threatened to lock up.

He slid into his seat and shut the door, and dammit anyway if the smell of her—something light and fresh like flowers—didn’t war with the odor of wet dog inside the cab.

Samson shoved between the seats to give her a solid sniff along her cheek and behind her ear before settling down across the back seat again.

“Cute dog. I’m a sucker for retrievers. And that gray muzzle. He’s adorable.”

“Thanks, and I’m pretty sure he not only knows it, but takes advantage of it.”

She smiled. “What’s his name?”

“Samson, but if you’ve got a treat on you, he’ll answer to anything.” He flipped on the ignition, more to keep the silence at bay than anything else, and said, “So, Olivia, huh? Nice name.”

“Yep, Olivia. And thanks. When I was a kid, I always wished I had my sister’s name instead, but I think Olivia’s the name I’m supposed to have.”

She folded her hands over her lap. Her seat belt was buckled. His seat belt, actually, and the way it was hugging her thighs and cradling the valley between her breasts was more action than he’d had in a while.

Get ahold of yourself, man. Has it really been that long? Actually, it had, he realized. Over a year, and that last time hadn’t been anything to hang onto. Before that…it had really been awhile.

“What’s her name?”

“Ava.”