No One Like You by Kate Angell Page B

ballplayer. And a Cates.
    Someone who could live with his crazy-ass schedule.
    Someone who was an animal lover, too. That was an absolute must.
    “Have a good evening, Rylan.” Beth gave him a nudge.
    “Thanks.” He lingered a moment longer over his dogs. Then addressed Atlas on his way out. “Don’t wait up, big guy.”
    Atlas had a habit of lying just inside the front door until he returned. He guarded the cottage. Ry doubted that would be so tonight. He’d bet his dogs would follow Beth to bed once she called it a day. He hoped Atlas wouldn’t crowd her on the queen sofa sleeper. The big dog liked to stretch out and chase rabbits in his sleep. He kicked. Hard. There was a chance Beth would end up on the floor.
     
    Beth woke up facedown on the floor. Sunlight streamed through the window, filtering across her blanket and the dark pine boards. Soft snores rose from the dachshunds camped beside her. She’d dragged their dog beds into her bedroom and they had curled up comfortably. Atlas and Rue had taken to her bed the moment she’d shut off the bedside table light. It had gotten crowded fast.
    She’d curled into a ball, allowed them to stay, and slept fairly well. She couldn’t recall exactly when she’d been shoved off the mattress. Sometime after three a.m., she figured. Shortly after she’d gotten up for a drink of water. She had less room when she’d climbed back into bed than when she’d left it moments before.
    The floor was hard and uncomfortable. She had a slight crick in her neck. Her left elbow was sore. She rotated her right ankle to relieve the stiffness. She yawned. Twice. Then glanced at the alarm clock on the seaman’s trunk. Six-thirty.
    She wondered what time Rylan had gotten home. She was surprised the dogs hadn’t wakened with his arrival, then joined him upstairs. She had yet to see the second floor. She imagined his bedroom was larger than her own.
    She sat up slowly. Rolled her shoulders. Stretched out her arms. Straightened her short cotton nightgown. What to do first? She debated. She’d yet to set a routine. She could grab a quick shower while the dogs still slept. Then take them out for their walk. Followed by their breakfast. She’d work on the picnic afterward. She hoped to catch Rylan before he left for the day, to see if he had a list for her.
    Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed in navy walking shorts and a powder blue tank top, Beth harnessed the dogs. She had her hand on the doorknob, about to leave the cottage, when Rylan made an appearance. He came down the stairs, bare chested and barefoot, wearing gray athletic shorts. He had a nice chest, lean and defined. His hair hadn’t grown overnight, as she had hoped. But his chin stubble had. He looked sexy, in a bed-head, sleepy-eyed way.
    The dogs charged him.
    He greeted each one. “Have a good walk,” he told them.
    They returned to Beth, and she fitted their leashes. Atlas tugged her out the front door, then took the lead. His leash was longer than the rest. It was a beautiful morning.
    She had never minded getting up early. She usually beat her alarm.
    Used to an active lifestyle, the exercise felt good. She had a grip on Atlas’s antics. For the moment, anyway. She breathed easier when they passed the crosswalk where he’d played dead the previous day.
    On the way back, she turned Rue’s leash over to him when they were two blocks from the house. Oscar and Nathan were dragging by the time they reached the driveway. The dachsies picked up their pace when they spotted Rylan sitting in a redwood Adirondack chair on the front porch, sipping a glass of orange juice.
    “Keeping an eye out for us?” she asked.
    “I wanted to make sure there wasn’t a problem,” he said easily. “I’d have given you five more minutes, then come looking.”
    She appreciated his concern. “We managed just fine.”
    He glanced down on her feet, and smiled when he read the hot pink message on her purple socks. Baby Steps .
    She