Page 2 of Wicked Little Thief
“Hi,” she said with her friendliest smile. “Utah Douglas. I’m here to see Liam McDonnell.”
Relief swept through her body when his frown turned into a smile at the sight of Phoebe’s butt wiggling excitedly.
“And who’s this cutie?”
“This is Phoebe. She’s going to live with Mr. McDonnell.”
Phoebe took the sound of her name as an invitation and launched into Utah’s lap, putting her front paws on the ledge of the open window so the man could easily pet her.
“You’re shameless,” Utah hissed with a laugh.
After giving the pup a good ear scratch, the man scanned his clipboard while Utah moved Phoebe back into the passenger seat.
“Utah Douglas, Utah Douglas… there you are. Have you been to Mr. McDonnell’s before?”
“Um, no. But I have his address and I have GPS.”
He chuckled as he shook his head. “The properties inside the community aren’t found on mapping software.”
Well, ooh la la.
“Okay, so do you have a map?”
He leaned closer to her window while using his hands to gesture as he gave directions.
“Once you go through the gate, you’ll take the second left, and Mr. McDonnell’s house is at the end of the cul-de-sac. Address numbers are displayed on the pillars at the end of the driveways, so it should be easy to find.”
She flashed him another Miss America smile as she glanced at his name tag. “Thank you, Cliff.”
He touched the brim of his baseball cap as he stepped back. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
The arm on the gate went up and Utah drove her little Honda Civic hatchback into the ritzy neighborhood. All the acre lawns were perfectly manicured, and every home had a brick façade—although the colors varied from red to tan to dark brown. The smallest house had to be at least four thousand square feet, although there were quite a few that were easily triple that.
She felt like it was obvious she didn’t belong there. Anyone who saw her little car crawling along the street as she stared up at the mansions had to think she was the hired help. She certainly felt like it.
“Wowzers, Phoebs. I see human-grade dog food in your future, sweet girl.”
Utah almost missed her turn, but luckily, she was going slow enough that she was able to make it without having to turn around.
Liam’s house was smaller than the others on his street—comparatively speaking, but it still looked like a mansion to Utah.
She didn’t know—was she supposed to park in his driveway or on the street? She decided his drive was big enough, and her car didn’t leak oil—that she knew of—so, she pulled in and parked outside his garage. Plus, it was closer to his front door.
“Are you ready, girl?”
Phoebe’s stubby tail was going a mile a minute. Utah picked up the end of her leash, just in case the spaniel tried to bolt when she opened the door.
Utah should have known better. The little princess pup waited patiently for Utah to set her down on the cement, then pranced toward the front door—like she knew she was home—leaving the lead lax between her and her walker.
“Oh, you’re going to fit in perfectly here.”
Before they even reached the front door, it opened and out stepped a man barefoot, in faded jeans and an untucked, light-blue button-down shirt.
Utah stopped short. He looked just like she’d imagined, except for the grey hair around his temples, five-o’clock shadow, and dark-rimmed glasses. And damn if that didn’t make him hotter than he’d been in her daydreams.
Sexy nerds pushed all the right buttons for her.
He flashed her a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial as he stepped toward her with his hand stretched out.