Matchmaker 10: October

I couldn't fathom that much dedication to a dog. I'd never had a dog, and while I wouldn't abuse one, I damn sure wouldn't cook for one. I'd buy a good, quality dog food and call it a day. She was clearly passionate about and dedicated to what she did, and while I hadn't changed my views in general on dog breeders, Lydia was causing me to rethink my position. She wasn't anything like I'd assumed breeders were, and I wondered if she was the exception or the rule.

"You obviously care a great deal about your dogs. Who's watching them now?"

"A girl who works for me full time, and another that works part time when I need her, mostly over holidays. As you might imagine, it gets crazy around there when we're full and there's forty dogs. Saqui, my full timer, is house sitting for me while I'm gone and watching the dogs. It's slow right now, so she can probably handle it with Randi coming in a few hours a day to help. This is a good time for me to be gone. People aren't traveling much right now because their kids are back in school, and it's too early to get puppies for Christmas. It'll pick up again around Thanksgiving and Christmas, when people start boarding their dogs so they can travel."

"You can have forty dogs?"

She grinned. "When we're full, yeah. That's not counting my eight."

I shook my head, having difficulty imagining what that must be like. "What do you do with them all?"

"I have a prefab building that came with the house. I think it was a tractor shed or something at one time. Anyway, I cleaned it up, insulated it, and put in heat and air. The dogs stay in there. Those that are good with other dogs can stay out and play in the two playrooms, one for big dogs and one for small ones. The antisocial ones have to stay in their own little rooms."

I nodded slowly. She seemed so together, her life running like a well-oiled machine. I couldn't manage my own life without help, and she cared for forty-eight dogs every day. More, she seemed happy about it. I could hear the joy in her voice when she talked about her dogs and her business. She was rightfully proud of what she'd built, apparently from scratch, and with her own sweat.

"Just, wow," I muttered.

"What?"

"I don't know how you do it."

She chuckled. "It isn't easy sometimes, and after a busy week with a full house, all I want to do is sit down, but it's rewarding. Few things fill me with more satisfaction than taking someone's unruly dog and teaching it to be a good family member."

"You train dogs too?" There was apparently no end to her talents.

"Yeah. I thought I mentioned that. Running a kennel doesn't produce a steady income. It's feast or famine. You work your ass off eight or ten weeks a year and you may only have one or two guests a week the rest of the time. That's why I breed and train dogs. It helps fill in the slow times."

We turned away from the cliffs and began walking back toward the house. Pieces were falling into place. I hadn't realized it until just now, but she'd probably spent the last five days training me. She never got mad, never snapped or snarled at me, never complained, yet she'd very clearly communicated her displeasure when I did something she didn't like, and I'd fallen right into line.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I pulled her a little closer when a strong gust of cold wind swirled around us, causing her to hunch her shoulders and pull her head down into her coat, looking like a cute turtle. I thought about it as we walked in silence. I didn't feel any different than I had when I arrived, except I was more careful with my words because she took offense more easily than most of the people I'd been around. Or did she?

The more I learned about her, the more I questioned my own actions. She was no snowflake, that much was certain. She didn't take any shit from me, but she didn't go around barking and snarling her displeasure either. She had a quiet strength about her, and she'd gently guided me into what she considered acceptable behavior without a single sneering comment. I couldn't say the same about myself. I'd made several comments that were totally unnecessary. What was that old saying... 'if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all?'

What had she changed about me? I thought about it. Not a lot, really. She seemed willing to accept me as I was, as long as I kept my glib opinions and comments to myself. It wasn't that she objected to me disagreeing with her or expressing my opinion, at least most of the time. The tricky part was trying to figure out what she would object to, and what she wouldn't.

As I thought about it, replaying some of my comments that had upset her in my head, I began to understand why what I'd said upset her, and I felt a twinge of guilt. I hadn't intended them to sound belittling, but in twenty-twenty hindsight, I could understand why she'd seen them that way. I was clearly speaking out of my ass about her breeding dogs. I didn't know shit about her at the time, yet I hadn't hesitated to share my opinion. That wasn't the only time I'd—

"You okay?"

"What?" I asked, her words drawing me out of my thoughts.

"I asked if you're okay."

"Yeah, why?"

She grinned at me. "I don't think you've ever gone so long without saying something."

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing."

"Were you thinking about me?" she asked, gazing up at me with a teasing smile.

I smiled back. "Maybe."

"What were you thinking about."

I didn't want to go down that path, so I did what I always did when I forgot my lines. I ad-libbed. "I was thinking about going all caveman on you," I rumbled before I ducked, grabbed her, and hefted her over my shoulder.

She shrieked in surprise, and hopefully, excitement. "Barrett! Put me down!"

"Og want woman! Og take woman!" I grunted as I carried her toward the house.

She squealed as she pressed on the back of my pants to hold herself up, kicking her legs. "Put me down!" She didn't sound like she was mad, so I uttered my best caveman grunt. "Barrett Quillon. You put me down this second!"

"Or what?" I teased.

She began slapping me on the ass with both hands. I returned the favor with one firm pop on her butt, making her shriek again. I hadn't hit her hard enough to hurt, so I knew it was only the surprise that made her squeal.

She stopped spanking me. "If you'll put me down, I'll give you something I think you'll like."

I paused in my stride. "What?"

"They're warm and soft, they taste good, and most men like them."

I smiled. That sounded like something I wanted, so I put her down. "Time to pay up," I rumbled as I moved in to collect my prize.

She put her hand up to block my kiss. "I have to make them first."

I blinked. "Make them?"

"Fresh cookies, silly. What did you think I meant?" I blinked at her as she smiled mischievously. "If you want anything else, you have to catch me first," she purred before she spun and ran for the house.

I grinned as I took off in pursuit.

Barrett and I walked hand in hand along the gravel path through Acadia National Park. When I discovered there were paths practically at our door that led into the park, I'd insisted we go exploring. It was beautiful here with millions of trees full of fall color, so unlike my home in Oklahoma with its spotty stands of scruffy trees amid wide open plains of sun baked grass. I was sure it would be bitterly cold in a few months, but currently the weather was no different than a typical Oklahoma winter.

Barrett and I were in the middle of our second week together, and I was becoming supremely comfortable around him. After he'd taken me to his bed, he'd changed. Before we slept together, I had the feeling he was trying not to be such an asshole. Now, though I couldn't explain why, I had the feeling the natural charm he possessed had actually replaced the assholeness in him. I no longer had the sense he was trying not to be an asshole and more that he wasn't an asshole.

I was too old and experienced to have crushes anymore, but he was charming the pants off me. I smiled to myself. Had charmed the pants off me, and thank God for that. Until I'd met Barrett, I thought I was a one and done girl, but he'd proven me wrong. The first night I'd come three times. Three times! Hard ones too. The man certainly knew how to please a woman. The first time he lay between my legs while kissing my womanhood, I couldn't remain still as pleasure unlike any I'd experienced before washed over me in waves until I'd been crushed under the hardest orgasm of my life. The cowboys in Oklahoma could learn a thing or two from Mr. Barrett Quillion. More than that, though, unlike the last couple of lovers I'd taken, he seemed more interested in pleasing me than taking pleasure for himself. That was something else I wished a few cowboys would learn.

In the almost a week since I'd joined him in his bed, I hadn't returned to my own, and he made me soar every night. But as good as the sex was, and it was very good indeed, his behavior when he wasn't making me writhe in pleasure that I enjoyed most. I wouldn't say he doted on me, not that I wanted him to, but not only was he more charming, he was also more... attentive was the only word I could think of. He seemed less self-centered, less full of himself, and I liked the change. I liked it a lot.

He'd started walking with me each day, and it pleased me that he preferred my company to that of the millions of nameless people following him on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and whatever other social media he was involved in. I wasn't a total luddite. TuxedOES Kennels had a Facebook page and a website, but I personally didn't engage with social media and had no interest in doing so. I enjoyed my anonymity, I'd asked him to keep me out of that world, and he'd agreed.

As good as things were becoming between us, one thing I hadn't adjusted to, and didn't like, was all the pictures being taken and the attention he drew. He took it in stride, but I wasn't used to it and it made me uncomfortable. I knew the photos were of him, and once people discovered I wasn't rich or famous, they ignored me, but it gave me a new appreciation for what 'living in a fishbowl' was really like. I enjoyed going out and doing things with him, but being mobbed by his adoring fans when we explored the shops in Bar Harbor, or tried to enjoy a meal, dampened my enthusiasm considerably for the activities. What I enjoyed the most was our time alone, like now, as we walked along the path without another soul in sight.

For the last couple of days, he and I had been wandering the various nature trails. Even when people recognized him, they either beamed and nodded in greeting as we passed, or when they did stop us, there were only a few people at a time. I'd been dreading it because of the crowds and the inevitable mob with cameras, but I really wanted to climb to the summit of Cadillac Mountain so I could enjoy the views. It was only about five miles, and I was missing my exercise with the dogs, so I thought it'd be a good stretch of the legs. We could walk up, take a break while we admired the scenery, and then walk back.

He slowed, pulled the water bottle from the holder on his hip, and took a long pull before offering it to me. I took the bottle and filled my mouth before handing it back to him, my cheeks puffed with water.

"Shit..." he huffed before taking another pull from the bottle. "Now I know why they invented cars."

I snickered. Barrett was a stone-cold honey, well-muscled and apparently in peak physical condition, but what I'd discovered on our walks was that while he was immensely strong, he had no real stamina. A smile teased my lips. Not walking anyway. In other, more intimate areas, he did much better.

From the peeks I was getting through the trees, we had to be near the summit. "Almost there," I panted. The long grade was taking a toll on me as well. "Going back it'll be easier since it's all downhill."

He took another pull from the bottle before offering the water to me again. When I shook my head, he tucked it back into the holder. "Thank God. Whose stupid idea was this anyway?"

I smiled at his teasing. "Mine. I told you you didn't have to come."

"And have you show me up? No thanks. Besides, I need the exercise to work off that soup from lunch. What I want to know is, why aren't you sweating?"

"I'm sweating a little."

"Yeah, but not like me."

I grinned at him. His shirt was sticking to him like a second skin, and that was no bad thing in my mind. My smile spread as I stepped in close. "It's okay. I like making you sweat."

He smiled down at me as his arms surrounded my waist. "I like it when you make me sweat too... but this isn't nearly as much fun as when you normally do."

"You're not having fun?" I asked, putting a pout into my voice.

He brushed my lips with his. "I didn't say that. I said this isn't as much fun as when you normally make me work up a sweat, and it isn't. Do you think so?"

I kissed him again. He was hardening, and I was becoming wet, but not from perspiration. "Most definitely not," I whispered as our lips slowly parted.

"You want to go back and work up another sweat?" he murmured, his lips so close to mine I could feel the tickle of his breath.

I couldn't help but smile. Before this vacation was over, I would find out how many times he could get it up. We'd made love last night, again this morning, and we'd go again tonight. More than once we'd squeezed in a tumble in the middle of the day as well, and each time he was ready to go with very little encouragement. He was so different than my last lover, when I was getting it only once or twice a week. Of course, he'd been getting some on the side, but I'd never had a lover interested in more than once a day.

"Tempting offer," I purred before I briefly caressed his lips with mine. "But we're so close to the summit, it seems a shame to waste all this effort."

"So, you're telling me you want me to keep going until you reach the peak?"

A small shiver passed through my body as I thought about him taking me to the peak of something else. "Oh, God, yes," I murmured as I smiled.

He softly drew his finger over my lips. "If you're sure that's what you want."

I nodded slowly as I drew his finger into my mouth and sucked lustily on it, running my tongue about it. I couldn't swallow his manhood, but I could his finger. He pumped it slowly into my mouth a moment before he removed it and kissed me fully.

"It is, but then we're going back to the house, and we're going to work up another sweat as you take me to the peak over and over again."

"I like the sound of that."

"So do I."

He smiled as he started around me at a fast pace. "Then let's get moving!"

I snickered as I followed. He set a fast pace up the hill as I trailed along, admiring his ass as he strode. Ten minutes later, when we reached the teardrop shaped parking lot at the summit, we were both breathing hard and sweating profusely.

As I feared, there were hundreds of people crowded around with every available parking spot taken and even more cars lined up and parked along the road. I didn't mind the people so much. They had as much right to admire the views as I did, but the moment someone recognized Barrett, I was certain we'd be thronged.

We'd seen several amazing views on the walk up the side of the mountain, but here, at the very top, we could see all the way around. The number of people was clearly limited by the available parking, so we had a little room to spread out. Barrett, either because he knew I didn't it like when we were surrounded by a crowd, or because he didn't want to deal with admirers, pulled me to an open area where nobody was standing.

I hoped with the small bubble of space around us nobody would recognize Barrett. He pulled me close as we stood, looking over the island to the ocean beyond, as our breathing slowed. It was without a doubt the most breath-taking sight I'd ever seen.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

"What?"

"I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Look! Is that Bar Harbor over there?" I asked, pointing to a town laid out like a highly detailed map before us.

He glanced around, perhaps trying to get his bearings. "Yeah, I think so. Our house should be down there somewhere," he said, pointing, "so that's in the right direction for Bar Harbor."

We spent an hour at the summit, cooling with the ocean breeze, sipping water, and allowing our legs to rest from the climb up. We kept to ourselves, moving away when a crowd began to approach to try to keep our distance. We were sitting on a rock, enjoying the views, his arm wrapped comfortably around me, when our privacy was broken.

"Excuse me, but are you Barrett Quillon?" a man about our age asked.

Like someone flipped a switch, Barrett changed, his face lighting up like he was meeting a long-lost friend. He rose to his feet. "Yes."

"Oh, wow! Can I get your autograph? I'm a huge fan of the comics and I'm really looking forward to seeing you in Bulletproof!" As I rose to my feet, Barrett reached out to sign whatever the guy was going to shove into his hands. The guy began patting his pockets. "I... can you wait just a second?" he asked, holding up is finger. "I need to go get something for you to write on. I'll be right back!" he continued as he backed away and then sprinted for his car.

"And here it goes," I muttered softly, drawing out the second word in annoyance.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Not your fault."

The man skidded to a stop by a well-used Toyota and yanked the door open before his upper half disappeared into the car. I could tell by the wiggle of his butt he was destroying the inside of his car as he frantically searched for paper and pen. It'd be funny if it wasn't so annoying. A moment later he popped out of the car. A family was walking past as he slammed the door, and he pointed at us and said something, their eyes leaving the views and locking onto ours.

"Shit," Barrett muttered as the guy sprinted back to us, the family following at a more sedate pace as the father herded two boys of about ten or twelve ahead of him.

"See you in a bit," I whispered as I faded into the background.

One nice thing about Barrett being recognized was the sudden availability of large open spaces for me to stand alone with my thoughts and admire the views. More than half the people there were more interested in the movie star among them than these amazing vistas. I split my attention between watching him as he chatted with fans, signed autographs, and posed for pictures, and admiring the stunning beauty provided by Mother Nature.

After about an hour, he joined me, putting his arm around me. "Let's go," he said softly.

"Did you get finished?"

"No, but I told them I had to go. With people coming and going all the time, I could stand there for hours. So let's go while we can." He led me back to the path we came up on, waving and smiling to the people as we turned down the path. "I'm glad that's over," he said once we were well out of hearing range.

I grinned. "Admit it, you love that stuff."

"As I told you before, it can be fun, especially when doing promotions, but times like this, not so much. I was perfectly happy sitting on that rock with you."

"Happier than being surrounded by adoring fans?" I teased.

He pulled me to a gentle stop and turned me to face him. "Much more," he said, holding my gaze without a hint of teasing in his voice.

I smiled, his words warming me. "That's sweet."

"Not as sweet as your lips," he whispered as he pulled me to him.

He kissed me softly, pulling me against his body. I wanted more, so much more, but we were standing on a trail in a National Park where someone might appear at any moment. We sighed out of the kiss, but when we reached the bottom of this mountain, I would be mounting something else as soon as I could.