Summer's Night by Cheyenne Meadows Page A

"What about a dog or cat?"
    "I'm not home very much with my work. Any animal would spend more time in a kennel than in my home. That's not fair to them."
    "But your mother's home all the time. Perhaps now might be the time, if she likes pets?"
    He seemed to ponder that. "I hadn't thought about it, to be honest. I'll have to ask her. She's always talked about getting a Persian cat, but never did so."
    "It might give her good company while you're away. Someone to talk to. I know Murphy is a great companion for those cold nights when you just talk to hear a voice."
    The dog looked up at her, hearing her name. Her ears cocked, before she opened her mouth, that pink tongue hanging out once more.
    The chicken began to boil; returning to the stove, she decreased the heat a bit so it wouldn't splash over the side. "What does your job entail?"
    He leveled a gaze at her before sighing. "I own a business."
    Summer bit her lip, uncertain about pushing for details, but more curious than ever. "May I ask what your business is?"
    His hand rested on Murphy's head. "I employ former military men and veterans to work in personal and private security."
    The way he chose his words told her he left some major details out. "So you're a former military man, too?" She decided to tiptoe around the tulips and see what else he might tell her.
    "Army. Green Beret."
    "Wow." Now she really was impressed. Those men held a legendary status in nearly every American's mind. No wonder his physical prowess outclassed everyone she knew. "Translated to simple terms, you protect people and things from the bad guys?"
    He smirked. "Something like that."
    "That's quite the noble cause. I never thought about it before. Someone has to do the dirty work. I guess that's where you come in."
    "Yeah."
    Her mind whirled for a minute more before landing on an idea, like a ball clinking into the number slot on a roulette wheel. "You get to play with lots of weapons, machine guns, that kind of thing?"
    Night arched an eyebrow. "And?"
    She smiled brightly at him. "I would love to shoot a cannon. That's got to be fun."
    He shook his head and chuckled. "Too noisy."
    "I'm sure we can find some ear plugs…" she tossed out hopefully.
    "I don't think so. Nice try, though. Besides, we don't use cannons. Much better to rely on stealth and quiet in our business."
    She pouted. "Darn. A cannon would've been great."
    "To each their own." His mouth turned upward.
    "I guess so." Grabbing a spoon, she stirred the beans. Forking the chicken, she decided they had boiled long enough, plunking each one onto a plate, where she cut them into smaller pieces before adding them into the bean mixture, along with several spices. "As soon as that heats back up, dinner will be served."
    Night stood up, heading to the fridge. "What else do you want out of here?"
    She peeked under his arm as he opened the door. "Let's take out the salad and fruit. Maybe the cottage cheese, too."
    He grabbed each item, setting them in the middle of the table. Summer set to making a pitcher of tea. Finishing that, she added it to the growing pile.
    By the time she carried the large pot of chicken chili to the table, Night had filled their glasses. They sat down to eat in relative silence, Murphy stretched out on the kitchen tile next to them.
    "Why don't you have a boyfriend?"
    Summer nearly choked on the out-of-the-blue question. Grabbing her tea, she took a couple of sips, trying to clear the blockage.

    * * * *

    Night bit back a grin at her reaction. Keeping her off balance proved to be fun and amusing. The more time he spent with her, the more he found himself interested, helping the constant tension to ease away. She did that for him. More than once today he felt her gaze glued to his body, caught the flash of appreciation in her large brown eyes. He could almost see the hamster wheel in her head rapidly spinning, imagining him without clothing and her hands touching every place her gaze presently did. The rapt attention