Free Trust Me by Melanie Craft

and ended up
     jammed into the crowded restaurant bar while they waited for a table to open up, the mood would be ruined. He would have to
     keep a close eye on the time. “Let’s go.”
    When they arrived at the house, there were four large, white sacks piled like carcasses around one of the stone gargoyles.
     Only his horned head and the curled lump of his tail were visible, and Carly thought that he looked annoyed by such disrespectful
     treatment.
    “Great,” she said. “The dog food arrived.”
    Max prodded one of the sacks with his toe. “This is all dog food?”
    “Believe it or not, this is a short-term supply. I noticed this morning that we were getting low, so I phoned all the bulk
     suppliers in the area, figured out who had been handling Henry’s account, and asked them to make an emergency delivery. They
     let me have it on credit, which is a good thing. Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy two hundred pounds of kibble?”
    Carly unlocked the front door and gestured down at the sacks. “Help me carry these inside, would you?”
    He frowned. “Inside?”
    “Yes. That’s where the dogs eat, so that’s where we need it.”
    There was an odd expression on Max’s face as he stared at the open doorway. “Right now?”
    What was the matter with him? “Right now,” Carly agreed. “It’s dinnertime.”
    But still, he didn’t budge. “The delivery people should have hauled it in. That’s part of their damn job.”
    “Well, they didn’t,” Carly said. “I’ll try to arrange that for next time, but right now, we have four large sacks that can’t
     walk, and I need you to help me carry them.”
    He didn’t answer, and his face was as immobile as stone. Carly found herself getting irritated. “What’s the matter? Are these
     big bags too heavy for you? Been spending too much time behind a desk, Max?”
    That snapped him out of it. “Hardly,” he said. He shot a hard, almost defiant look at the house. “You want me to bring in
     the food? Fine. You got it.”
    He reached down, grabbed one bulky sack, and slung it over his shoulder as easily as if it were a feather pillow. She blinked,
     taken aback, as he strode past her into the darkened entry hall. He stopped and turned to look at her. “Where do you want
     it?”
    Carly swallowed. “Kitchen. Please.”
    “Fine. Where is it?”
    “Next to the solarium.”
    “And where is that?” Max asked coldly.
    “In the back of the house, right where it’s always been…” She paused, startled. “Max, haven’t you ever been here before?”
    “No,” he said, and started down the hall, leaving her standing in the doorway, surprised and concerned, her mouth filled with
     unvoiced questions.
    She caught up with him just outside the kitchen. Her arms were wrapped awkwardly around a heavy sack, and as she was supporting
     it on her raised knee, attempting to free one hand to turn the knob, the kitchen door suddenly opened inward.
    Carly squawked, lost her balance, and pitched forward through the open doorway. The bag of food hit the floor with a crunchy
     thump, and a second later, so did she.
    “Ouch.” She looked up from her inelegant position on the kitchen linoleum to see Max gazing down at her.
    “Sorry,” he said, offering her a hand. “I didn’t know you were there.”
    “That’s good. I’d hate to think you did it on purpose.” His fingers closed around hers, and she felt his strength as he pulled
     her easily to her feet.
    “About that desk-job joke,” she said, brushing herself off. “I didn’t mean it. Nobody would ever mistake you for a weakling.”
    “Or a three-martini CEO? I’ve made a point of avoiding that.”
    “Yes, I can see. What do you do, lift weights?”
    “Only when there’s no dog food around.”
    His expression hadn’t changed, and it took her a moment to realize that he was being dryly humorous. She smiled at him and
     bent to pick up the fallen sack.
    “I’ll get that,” Max said. “This