The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 27

The storm continued to rage outside, the heavy rain drumming against the frosted glass in a surprisingly soothing rhythm.

Sinking into the steaming water, Lavinia finally felt the life slowly returning to her frozen limbs.

The bathroom was immaculately clean. An array of high-end toiletries lined the marble shelf next to the tub—brands so exclusive she didn't even recognize the labels.

Showering in a man's home so soon after meeting him should have felt wildly inappropriate.

Yet, there was something inherently safe and grounding about this house that completely put her at ease.

Taking her time, she finished washing up, meticulously gathered any stray hairs from the drain, tossed them into the trash, and finally headed back downstairs.

In the living room, Charley was still in his damp clothes. He was kneeling on the rug, peering under the sofa, and coaxing softly, "Come on out, Nemo."

"Looking for your dog?" she asked, walking over.

From his spot on the floor, his line of sight landed directly at her chest.

He smoothly averted his gaze.

"The thunder terrified him. He wedge himself under here and refuses to budge."

She dropped to the floor, leaning down to peer into the dark crevice.

A beautiful Golden Retriever was crammed into the tight space, staring back at her with wide, pathetic eyes while trembling violently.

"Is Nemo a good boy or a good girl?"

"A boy."

"Do you have any treats? Or maybe a favorite toy?"

"Let me check."

He returned moments later with dog biscuits and a chew toy. She took them, reaching into the gap to gently coax the frightened animal.

"Come here, Nemo. Look what I've got for you."

It took over ten minutes of swapping out treats and speaking in the softest, most reassuring voice imaginable before the large dog finally shimmied his way out.

He was still shaking uncontrollably, his golden fur vibrating with residual panic.

Pulling him into a warm hug, she began to stroke his back methodically. One, two, three long strokes. Slowly, the dog's rapid panting began to even out.

Charley watched her hands. They were petite with neatly trimmed nails, moving with the tender, practiced patience of someone soothing a frightened child.

"Any experience in veterinary medicine?" he asked quietly.

"Just a little." She looked up with a small smile. "I love animals and always wanted a pet, but someone in my house is strictly allergic to dander."

"Oh, no, I shouldn't impose any longer. I'll just call a car to take me home."

Opening the rideshare app on his phone, he held the screen out to her. Over two hundred people were still queuing in the area, and the traffic map remained a gridlocked mess of dark red.

She was out of excuses.

"We're going out to eat," he stated with finality. "By the time we finish, the flooding will have subsided and traffic will be moving again."

She stayed quiet.

"Nemo needs to eat, too. We'll all go."

Looking down, she met the adoring gaze of the massive dog leaning heavily against her legs, his tongue happily lolling to the side.

She couldn't help but smile.

"Okay."

He headed upstairs to change, returning in a crisp navy button-down and tailored khaki trousers. With his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and impossibly long legs, he looked like he had just stepped off a runway.

She had also changed back into her now-dry clothes.

Slipping her shoes on by the door, she asked curiously, "This is the historic district, right? Are there any hidden gems around here?"