“Well, if your lights are on, I’ll knock. If you don’t answer, I’ll assume you’re asleep.” He chuckled. “Actually, maybe I shouldn’t do that because Meat will make a racket, and that’ll wake you up anyway.”
Chet couldn’t help but smile. She loved when Tuff laughed because she felt it all the way down to her toes.
“By the way, where’s the big Meatball?”
“He’s at the kennel. Although, he wasn’t happy about being left there. He’s become quite spoiled lately. He moans every time he knows he’s not going with me.”
Tuff snorted.” I don’t blame him. He’s got good taste. If I were him, I’d want to spend the entire day with you too.”
She knew she shouldn’t read anything into his little joke, but it was hard not to. Glancing up, she noticed a small group of mourners walking toward her. “Listen, my coworkers are coming. Let me get inside with them and grab something to eat.”
“Okay. No problem. I was just checking to see how you were doing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow night or the next morning.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
Disconnecting the call, Chet tucked the phone back in her pocket, and pasted a smile on her face, like the ones everyone else from the funeral seemed to be sporting. At least the worst of the day was over, and now they would have some food and drink, while sharing some more memories of Terry and Megan.
Two hours later, Chet was sitting with Des and some other coworkers after they’d managed to put some food in their stomachs. As it always did when they were together off the clock, the conversation steered toward work. The sworn-in ACOs would have to plug in the holes on the schedule created by Terry’s death, until a new person could be hired and fully trained. Des surprised Chet when he told her she would be the new recruit’s FTO—Field Training Officer.
“What?” Chet asked. “Why me?”
“Because you have more patience than anyone else.” The corners of his mouth turned upward, and his voice softened. “And I know you’ll do Terry proud.”
It’d been a few years since a new animal control officer had been hired. It was a close-knit department, and almost everybody that worked there went beyond the twenty years needed for their pensions, just because they enjoyed the job. They loved what they did, took pride in rescuing every animal they could, and liked working among friends. As far as Chet knew, none of the animal control officers planned on retiring anytime soon. Terry probably would’ve been the next one to put in his papers, but she knew he’d been planning on sticking around for another five years or so.
Chet blushed at the compliment. “Thanks, but shouldn’t Matt be the one to train the new recruit? He’s got seniority now.”
Matt McGregor smirked. “And as senior officer, I get to accept or decline a training position, and, in this case, I declined, so it falls to you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, you don’t want it, but what about somebody else? Glenn can do it—he’s got patience.”
“But it has to be somebody with at least five years’ experience,” Glenn Fargas responded with a relieved smile. “I only have four and a half, so far, so I’m out too. Thank God.”
“Fine,” Chet repeated before eyeing Des. “Do you know when you’ll be hiring somebody?”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to bother looking at the list until Monday. Then I’ll bring in the top three people, with the highest scores from the test, for interviews.” In order to be hired as an ACO, a person had to take a civil-service exam, similar to the one for police officers.
As much as Chet was not looking forward to training somebody new, she tried to look on the positive side. At least it would help keep her mind off of Terry and Megan . . . and Tuff too.
Chapter Thirteen
Pulling into the driveway, Tuff killed the ignition on his truck. He was exhausted. The mission to rescue a kidnapped businessman in Mexico had been a success, but it’d been hairy there for bit. A few of his teammates had come home with some bumps and bruises, and even a couple stitches, but those were par for the course for them. As long as everyone was among the walking wounded and not unconscious or worse, then all was good.
On the ride home from the airport, all Tuff had wanted was to climb into his nice, soft bed and sleep for the next twelve hours straight. That was until he saw the light on in Chet’s kitchen through the living room window. He knew for a fact she usually didn’t leave lights on when she went to bed at night, so had she left it on for him? It was probably best he didn’t find out the answer to that question. During the moments when he’d been allowed to let his mind wander over the past few days, all he’d been able to think about was how good she’d felt in his arms and how she’d shattered under his touch. He got hard every time he thought of his cock nestled against her ass as he spooned her while she’d slept the other night. She’d made it crystal clear she hadn’t been looking for anything more from him than a way to escape her grief for a little while. With any other woman, he would’ve been fine with that, but Chet made him wish for things he’d never wanted before.
Grabbing his mission-ready duffel bag, so he could restock it in the morning, he exited the truck. As he climbed the front steps, he had every intention of unlocking his door, closing it behind him, and locking it again, so he wouldn’t be tempted to knock on hers. That plan went out the window when Chet’s door opened, and she appeared before him, with Meat at her side. Tuff did his best to keep his gaze on her face and off her luscious body, but her thin sleep shorts and matching top, clearly sans bra, were making that very difficult.
It took a moment for him to realize there was something wrong. She was frowning, worry etched on her face. He immediately stepped closer to her, his protective instincts rising to the surface. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She opened the door a little wider. “Can you come in for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.” He brushed past her and gritted his teeth when his bicep made brief contact with the side of her breast.
He set his duffel on the floor of the foyer as she closed the door, then followed her into the kitchen and took a seat across the table from her. “What’s wrong?” he repeated.
“You know there were more dogs than Meat that we rescued from that pit bull fight club, right?” When he nodded she continued, “Well, while we were at the funeral and repast yesterday, two of the other dogs were stolen from the homes of my coworkers who’d been fostering them. One had been left in a fenced-in backyard with two other dogs that weren’t taken—neither of them were pit bulls. Glenn has a doggie door that allows them to go in and out of the house, and he’s never had a dog escape from his yard. His neighbor saw a dark SUV pulling out of Glenn’s driveway, just around noontime, but assumed it was one of his friends who often stop by. She didn’t get a good look at the driver or notice if there were any passengers or dogs in the vehicle. The other dog is pregnant and was stolen from Marianne’s house—somebody had kicked in the backdoor and taken her. There were no witnesses for that one.”
Tuff ran a hand down his face. “Shit. Sounds like the gang is trying to recoup their losses.”
“That’s what the police think, and we all agree.”
A thought crossed Tuff’s mind. “I wonder if there’s any connection to the guy who vandalized your vehicle.”
“That’s what I was thinking too. I was also thinking it might have to do with Terry and Megan being murdered.”
He’d also thought of that but hadn’t wanted to voice it. It was a strong possibility. Those gang members didn’t give a crap about anyone who stood in the way of them making money. Taking a life didn’t mean a thing to them, as long as they got what they wanted. Using the distraction of the funeral to retrieve some of their money-making dogs would’ve made sense. “Do the homicide detectives know about this?”
She nodded. “Yes, my boss made sure they were notified.” She glanced down to where Meat was laying on the floor. “I’ll kill anyone who comes for him. I re
fuse to let those assholes get their hands on him again.”
There was no mistaking the venom and determination in her voice. But there was no way Tuff would allow her to be placed in that position. “First thing tomorrow, I’m upgrading your security system. The new cameras and basic system in this unit aren’t enough. And I don’t want you arguing about it either.”
“This time, I’m not going to argue with you. I’ve learned my lesson,” she said with a little laugh, before glancing around. “Um, look, I know it’s late, but would you like to have a drink with me? I have some Irish whiskey just waiting to be shared.”
Tuff was surprised by her offer, but, after a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, sure. I could use something to unwind.”
He knew he should’ve turned down the drink, but part of him wasn’t ready to leave her yet, especially following the update she’d just given him. After she retrieved the liquor bottle and two lowball glasses from the kitchen cabinets, she gestured toward the living room. “Let’s sit in there where it’s more comfortable.”
Despite knowing the last thing he should do was get more comfortable with Chet, he trailed behind her into the living room and sat on the opposite end of the couch from her. He accepted a half-filled glass and sipped the brown liquid, welcoming the burn in his throat.
“So . . .” Chet started, as she turned to face him and crossed her legs Indian style on the couch. “I know you told me you can’t talk about some of your assignments, but did everything go okay on this one?”
“Yeah, it did. This wasn’t a classified mission, and while I can’t name any names, I can say we had to go into Mexico and rescue some guy who’d been kidnapped and held for ransom.”
Her eyes widened. “You did? Seriously? Why didn’t the cops rescue him?”
“A lot of times the cops are actually involved down there, so it’s best to bring in a private agency like ours. There’s no red tape, no law enforcement protocols that have to be followed, nor do we have to worry about a leak giving away our rescue plans. If the bad guys knew we were coming, they’d cut their losses, kill the victim, and be gone long before we got there. Instead, the bad guys thought one of my teammates was bringing the three-million-dollar ransom. They were pretty surprised when things went to shit for them.” It’d been a fast op—in and out—which didn’t happen often. Now, Tuff was glad it had. He needed to be here if those gang members came looking for Meat, who was snoring from his spot on the floor, a few feet away from the couch.
“Three million dollars? Holy crap.”
“Yep, and that’s one of the cheaper demands I’ve heard about lately.” Not wanting her to ask what had happened to the kidnappers—most were dead and the few who’d survived wished they were dead—he changed the subject. “So, aside from the dogs going missing, anything else new? Again, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to take you to the funeral yesterday.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing to feel sorry about. In fact, I want to thank you for being there for me during the wakes and . . . um . . . and the other night.” Her gaze dropped to the narrow area of the couch between them. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?” He hoped she wasn’t about to say what he didn’t want her to say . . . that she regretted inviting him into her bed the other night.
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you or made things awkward between us the other night.” She set her glass down on the coffee table. “I just wanted to let you know it meant a lot to me that you were there for me . . . you, know, as a friend.”
After setting his barely-touched glass next to hers, he reached out and took her hand in his. “Hey, look at me.” He waited until her gaze met his. “There was absolutely nothing embarrassing or awkward about it. I’m glad I was there for you. I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of the situation.”
A flush crept across her cheeks. “Is that why you didn’t . . . um . . . you know . . .” She thought he’d said something along those lines as he’d held her that night before she’d fallen asleep in his arms, but between her post-orgasmic bliss and exhaustion, she wasn’t certain.
Chuckling, he rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “Yeah, it is. Trust me, I had a very hard time keeping my pants on, but it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the circumstances. You’re a very beautiful woman, Concetta. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the way her full name flowed from his lips in a husky tone. “Thank you.” Her chin dipped as she cleared her throat. “I . . . um . . . was wondering, if maybe, you’d . . . uh . . . be interested in maybe, doing—doing it again sometime. I mean, you know, with . . . um . . . both of us getting something out of it.”
Tuff’s eyebrows shot up as high as they could physically go. That was the last thing he’d expected her to say. She’d shocked the shit out of him, and he couldn’t formulate an answer right away. When the silence grew, so did her obvious embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested that. Never mind.”
She tried to get to her feet, but he tightened his grip on her hands and pulled until she was sitting on his lap. “Nope, you’re not going anywhere—not after that proposition. I was just stunned for moment, but now I want to hear more about this idea of yours.” So did his damn cock.
Her cheeks were now a deep pink as she fiddled with the hem of her shorts. “Well, I figured, since I’m not dating anyone, and you said, you know, you’re not dating anyone, that we could have a, sort of, friends with benefits arrangement. Neither one of us want any commitments, so we could keep it casual. And somewhere down the line, if one of us meets someone, then the two of us will just go back to being friends again. No harm, no foul.”
Tuff was an ass. That’s the only reason he could give, other than he was hard as a rock, for why he said yes.
Chet tilted her head. “Yes . . . as in . . .”
He threaded the fingers of one hand through the strands of her hair and pulled her toward him. His lips brushed against hers, sending a shiver through her body and unadulterated lust through his. “Yes, as in I’d be interested in an arrangement like that . . . with you.”
Tuff was going straight to hell—but what a way to go. He should’ve said no, but, if he had, she would’ve really been embarrassed, and things would have been awkward between them. As much as he wanted this, though, he couldn’t help but feel one of them was going to get burned in the end, and it was probably going to be him. But he was done fighting his attraction to her. If this was all he got, a few stolen moments in time when he could pretend she was his, he’d take them and deal with the fallout later.
Without hesitation, Chet opened her mouth. Her tongue peeked out and licked his lips. Tuff smiled and then mimicked her actions. Grasping the hem of her shirt, he dragged it up her torso and over her head, tossing it to the floor. He’d been dreaming of her breasts for the past three days and couldn’t wait to get his hands and mouth on them again. Chet rose up on her knees and straddled his hips. Shifting beneath her, Tuff tried to give his aching cock a little more room as she cupped her breasts and offered them to him. Damn, she was going to be the death of him tonight.
Chapter Fourteen
When Tuff accepted her offering and sucked one rosy-red nipple into his mouth, Chet arched her back. She gasped and held his head to her breasts. This was insane. Absolutely insane. She’d told herself, repeatedly, not to proposition him—she’d only get hurt in the end. But from the moment he’d walked into her house, his bicep brushing against the side of her breast, all thoughts of why she shouldn’t go after what she wanted, even in a temporary way, disappeared into thin air. Her body was crackling with electricity and desire just sitting in the same room as him. She wanted him more than any other man she’d ever met, and if she only had a few fleeting moments in her lifetime with him, she’d take them, store them in her memory, and treasure them long after he moved on.
Tuff’s teeth bit do
wn lightly on her nipple, and Chet felt it in her core. Her arousal dampened her sleep shorts, reminding her she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She hadn’t intended to open the door that way, but she’d padded from her bedroom to the kitchen to get a glass of water, without putting on a robe, moments before she’d heard his truck pull into the driveway. She hadn’t wanted to miss him, so she’d hurried to the front door and thrown it open. Now, she was glad she hadn’t put on a robe.
Running her hands up his tattooed arms and across his shoulders, she decided he was overdressed. She bunched the material of his shirt in her hands. “Please, Jason, I want to feel your skin. Take this off,” she demanded.
She only seemed to call him by his given name when she was aroused and wondered if he even noticed. Releasing her breast, he quickly followed her order, reaching back, grabbing a handful of his shirt, and yanking it over his head. He tossed it toward where he’d thrown her shirt earlier, but it went a little farther than that and ended up draped over half of Meat’s big head. The dog was lying on his side, snoring away, and in a true testament to the fact he felt safe in Chet’s house, he barely opened his eyes when the shirt landed on him before going back to sleep.
Tuff Enough Page 7
