by Eve Gaddy
It made him feel like they had something special between them. Something he’d felt from the moment he met her.
Yeah, lust, you idiot.
Of course I have the hots for her. Who wouldn’t? But that’s not all it is.
Love? Damn, maybe I am in love with her.
“How’s it going, Glory?” Dylan asked when he entered the kitchen. As usual, Glory was making something to eat. It looked like pie. Apple. His favorite.
“I’m good.” She shot him a keen glance. “What do you want?”
“Who says I want anything? All I said was how’s it going.”
Glory pointed a floured finger at him. “I don’t know why you boys think I’m a fool. I can read you like a book, just like I can every blessed one of you. Now, what is it you want?”
He shrugged and gave up. “Can you make something special for me to take to Sam’s tonight? She doesn’t want to leave the dog alone yet so I said I’d bring dinner.” He added the clincher, since he knew Glory as well as she knew him. “If it’s too much trouble I can just pick up a pizza or hamburgers.”
“Oh, no you won’t.” She snorted. “Pizza or hamburgers, my foot. Anything special you want?”
“That chicken dish you make. The one we call Glory’s special chicken. And that pie would be good too.”
“I’ll take care of it for you.”
“You’re the best,” he told her and kissed her cheek.
“Don’t you forget it,” she told him with a laugh.
Samantha Striker was a knockout. Tonight she wore jeans and a sweater and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She rocked that look. But hell, she even rocked scrubs. He itched to take the band out and bury his hands in the mass of blonde, silky hair. While he was kissing her. And while they were naked.
“Dylan? Did you hear what I said?”
“Sorry. I was thinking of something else.” Like getting you naked. Slow down, asshole, he told himself. “What did you say?”
“I said dinner was delicious and asked if you’d thank Glory for me.”
“Oh, sure. She’ll be happy you liked it.”
“What were you thinking about? You seemed so far away.”
Nope, just as far as the bedroom. Or the couch. The table would work too. “I was thinking about you.”
Having eaten dinner and cleaned up, they’d brought their wine glasses with them and were sitting on the couch in her living room. She looked at him quizzically and sipped her wine before setting it back on the coffee table. “What about me? Or should I ask?”
He grinned. “You can ask, but I’m not sure I should tell you.”
She smiled back. “Never mind. I have a feeling I know.”
She probably did.
Sam reached for his wine glass and set it beside hers on the table. Scooting closer to him, she laid her hand on his chest and said, “Ever since you kissed me last night—to be honest, before that too—I’ve thought about kissing you again.”
“Feel free,” he said, slipping an arm around her. “I promise I won’t complain.”
She put both arms around his neck and laid her lips on his. No hesitation this time. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he met it with his. His arms tightened around her and he pulled her closer. She came willingly.
Her lips were soft, so damn soft. She tasted sweet with a hint of fire. He deepened the kiss. Soon he was lying on his back, stretched out on the couch with Sam on top of him. He reached for the rubber band in her hair. “Can we get rid of this?”
She put her hand in her hair and pulled it out, shaking her head so her hair fell forward.
“God, your hair is so amazing.” He sank his hands into it and brought her mouth to his. He kept one hand in her hair and moved the other down to slide over her ass and press her against him.
Sam groaned and pulled back to look at him. “Still cautious?” he asked her.
“Apparently not,” she said, smiling. She sat up, straddling him with her legs on either side of his hips, reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it off over her head, then tossed it aside. “I decided to take my chances.”
“I’m glad.” God, what an understatement. He filled his hands with her breasts, caressing her nipples through the fabric of her bra. She reached behind her to unhook her bra, thrusting her breasts forward. He pulled the straps down her arms and flung aside the bra, sucked in a breath at the sight of her naked breasts. “So beautiful,” he said, cupping her breasts, running his hands over them, playing with her nipples, dusky pink and begging to be tasted. He guided one to his mouth, rolled it with his tongue, smiling at her gasp of pleasure.
Sam attacked his shirt buttons, spread the shirt open and put her hands on his chest. “You have such pretty muscles,” she said. “It must be all the hard work you do.”
He caressed her breasts and she wiggled around, sex against sex, until he was rock hard and aching to be inside her. She unbuttoned his jeans, got her hands on the zipper, but she was having a hard time getting them unzipped.
Shadow barked and she froze. “Ignore it,” Dylan said, pulling her head down for a kiss. “He’ll stop soon.”
The noise was coming from her front hallway, which he assumed meant the dog had heard something at the front door or was looking out the window beside the door. Instead of calming down, Shadow’s barking grew increasingly more agitated.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“He’s not stopping.”
“No, he’s not.” He kissed her again and sighed.
“I’ll go see what’s wrong. Maybe someone’s at the door, but it’s pretty late for that.” She got off the couch and bent down to pick up her sweater, not bothering with her bra. “Sorry,” she said and put the sweater back on.
Yeah, sorry didn’t even touch it.
He got up, buttoned and adjusted his jeans and followed her to the front hallway. Shadow was at the window, pawing at it, whimpering and barking almost hysterically. “What the hell is out there?”
“I have no idea,” Sam said, flipping on the outside lights. She crouched down beside the dog, petting him and talking quietly to him. “It’s okay, Shadow. Good dog. We’ve got it now.” She looked out the window then back at him. “I can’t see anything from here. Other than it’s snowing like crazy.”
“I don’t see anything, either, but obviously Shadow does.” Dylan opened the coat closet and pulled out his jacket. “I’ll go out and look around.”
“I’m going to stay here and hold Shadow. I don’t think he’d run away if I let him go but I’m afraid he’ll charge around and injure his leg again. He’s awfully agitated. I wonder if it’s a cat. Maybe he’s one of those dogs who don’t like cats.” She grasped his collar firmly and opened the door.
That was possible, he supposed, but it was going to be an incredible pain in the ass if the dog freaked out every time he saw a cat. Especially when he came out to Dylan’s, which he assumed he would. Dylan’s cats were barn cats, although sometimes he’d find one that was clearly an inside cat and he’d keep it until he found it a home.
Dylan walked out and looked around. The snow was coming down heavily now. The street was quiet. He didn’t see a soul outside besides himself. Not even a cat.
“Do you see anything?” Sam called out.
“Not yet.” The exterior of the house looked fine, so he looked in the driveway where both his truck and Sam’s car were parked. Briefly, he wondered why Sam hadn’t parked in her garage. “I’ll be damned. I found the problem,” he called out to Sam, who was standing in the open doorway holding Shadow. “Your tires have been slashed. All four of them.”
Chapter Eleven
Goddamn dog. How had it known he was outside the house? Maybe it just liked to bark. The porch light came on and she opened the door. He saw her holding the dog by the collar and the stupid dog barking like a maniac.
Great. The boss was coming out to check on things. Having seen Dylan’s truck, he’d known the boss was there but he�
��d figured the two of them would be too busy screwing each other to pay attention to anything else.
He hadn’t counted on the goddamn dog going apeshit crazy and bringing them both out. At least the bitch was holding back the dog. He didn’t doubt the animal would head straight for him.
Just before he faded away, he heard Dylan say, “I’ll be damned. I found the problem. Your tires have been slashed. All four of them.”
Smiling, he hopped a fence and began walking the two blocks to get to his truck. Yes, indeed. Everything was going according to plan.
That’ll teach me to park in the driveway, Sam thought.
Dylan insisted they call the police and report the crime. Sam didn’t argue, since having her tires slashed—in her driveway—was pretty disturbing. The gas tank was one thing. After all, they couldn’t prove anything about that, no matter how suspicious they were about what had really taken place. But someone slashing her tires was a deliberate and vindictive action. Was someone trying to send her a message? And if so, who?
She called the police, saying she needed to report a crime. Then she was put on hold so she waited. And waited. And waited until finally someone came to the phone. She explained what had happened and was told it could be hours before someone could check it out and briefly explained why.
“No, I understand. Yes, we’ll wait,” she said, ending the call. “They’re not sure when they can send someone,” she told Dylan. “There was a wreck just outside of town that’s got traffic piled up and all the police who can be spared are out there. I’m going to check in with the hospital and make sure they don’t need me.”
“Do you need to go in?” Dylan asked when she got off the phone with the hospital. “I can take you in my truck. Your car won’t be going anywhere but Dillon’s garage.”
“No, they said most of the injuries are minor and they can take care of the couple that aren’t.”
“I guess we wait, then. I’ll go take some more pictures. I snapped some when I went out the first time.”
“Pictures of what?”
“Footprints. What’s left of them, anyway. It’s snowing pretty heavily. By the time the cops get here they’ll be completely gone.”
“I would never have thought to do that.”
“Crime shows and books on crime. I have no idea if pictures taken with my cell phone will actually be useful but I figure it can’t hurt.”
They turned on an old movie while they waited. Dylan wrapped his arm around her and she snuggled against him. I’ll just close my eyes for a little bit, Sam thought.
The next thing she knew she woke up to Dylan getting up from the couch. “I’m going to take Shadow out. He’s been whining for a while now.”
Sam rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock on the DVR. “Oh, well. I guess they’re not coming.”
Just then her doorbell rang. Sam looked out the window, saw a cop standing there and opened the door. A pleasant young woman, probably a few years younger than Sam said, “Dr. Striker? I’m Officer May Rogers. I’m sorry it took us so long to get here.”
“That’s all right. Did you get the accident cleared?”
“Yes, thanks. I understand someone slashed your tires?”
“That’s right. Come in, Officer.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll look around outside first.”
“May, is that you?” Dylan asked, coming in with Shadow still on the leash.
“Dylan? I thought that was your truck. Were you here when the incident occurred?”
“We both were. Shadow here sounded the alert.” He motioned to the excited dog at his side, who clearly wanted to meet the new person.
May stepped forward and held out the back of her hand to Shadow. He sniffed her and licked her hand, apparently approving. “How long ago was this?” May asked.
“About two hours ago. Maybe a little less,” Dylan said.
“All right. I’ll check it out and then I’ll be back to take your statements.”
Sam shut the door and then said to Dylan, “Is there anyone in Marietta you haven’t dated?”
“How do you know I dated May?”
She rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but it was a long time ago.”
Sam sighed, shook her head and started to go to the living room but Dylan stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“Does it bother you?”
She didn’t ask what. She knew. “Honestly? I’m not sure.”
He let go of the dog’s leash and put his hands on both her arms, looking down at her. “It shouldn’t.”
She stared at him, thinking what pretty eyes he had. “Why?”
“None of them were you,” he said, and kissed her.
“That sounds very romantic,” she said a few minutes later.
“And you’re not buying it.”
“Let’s just say I’m a little skeptical.”
“I’ll have to think of a way to convince you that I’m telling you the truth.”
“I’m afraid we won’t have much luck finding who did this,” May said, after taking their statements. “There’s no way to get footprints since it’s been snowing so hard. There’s a high likelihood that some neighborhood kids are responsible.”
“Aren’t they more likely to toilet paper the house?” Sam asked.
“Depends on their age.”
“Before I forget,” Dylan said, “I took some pictures of the footprints earlier. I don’t know whether they’ll be useful to you or how good they are.”
“Good thinking. Watch a lot of mysteries, do you?” May asked him with a twinkle in her eyes.
He smiled and handed her his phone. “Crime shows and police dramas. CSI and things like that.”
May flipped through the digital photos. “Can you email these to me? We’ll see what we can do with them.”
“There’s something else,” Sam said. She and Dylan had decided that the mystery of her gas disappearing should be mentioned, in case it was related. Sam didn’t know whether to think it was or not, but it was a strange coincidence at the very least. “Yesterday someone drained my gas tank. At least, that’s what we think happened.” Sam went on to tell her the circumstances.
May took notes in the small notebook she’d pulled from her pocket. Some cops used tablets now, particularly in the larger cities, but it seemed May liked the old-fashioned way of taking notes. “Are you sure it was drained?” she asked Sam, but immediately looked at Dylan, which annoyed Sam.
Sam shot Dylan a glance and shrugged. He said, “We’re not positive but Sam is fairly certain she had at least a quarter of a tank earlier that day.”
May had clearly wanted to put it down to kids making trouble but with the additional circumstances she looked more thoughtful. “That does put a bit of a different spin on it, assuming that’s what happened.”
“I can’t think of anyone who would do something like this,” Sam said.
“No fights with your neighbors? Or kids in the neighborhood?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“We’ll see what we can find out,” May said as she stood. “Good to see you, Dylan. I’ll be in touch.”
I bet you will, Sam thought. With Dylan. She shook off that thought. She had no reason to think May Rogers was anything other than a good cop. You’re jealous, that’s the problem. You’re going to have a hard time if you get jealous of every woman Dylan’s ever dated.
Women Dylan dated. Could that be it?
“Are you going to be all right here?” Dylan asked Sam. “I don’t think they’ll be back, not tonight anyway. But if you’re worried I can stay or you can bring Shadow and come home with me.”
“I’m not worried. I’ll be fine. Apparently, I have a guard dog.” She gave Shadow, curled up on his pillow and snoring, an affectionate glance.
Dylan frowned. “I don’t like leaving you. Let me stay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“You’re sweet, but—”
“Are you sure you can
’t think of anyone who has a beef with you?”
“Not in Marietta. And I can’t see anyone from Texas following me here. Why would they?”
“I guess it depends on how many people you pissed off when you volunteered at the shelter. Or maybe it’s someone you operated on who had a bad outcome.”
“There’s another possibility we haven’t discussed.”
“What’s that?”
“What if it’s one of your ex-girlfriends? There are bound to be a few who weren’t happy when you two broke up.”
He laughed. “So, she’s what? Harassing you? What point would there be to that?”
“Maybe she wants you back and thinks if you’re not with me you’ll give her another chance. Who was your last girlfriend?”
“It sure as shit wasn’t her. Rebecca’s gotten engaged to someone since we quit dating.” He shook his head. “No, I can’t see it. She’d have to be crazy or obsessed and I never dated anyone like that.”
“It’s at least as likely as someone from my past following me here. But if you ask me, neither sounds very likely. I’m sure the two things are unrelated. Like the officer said, tonight was probably just bored kids.”
“Maybe. But you still need to be careful.”
“I will. Now you need to go home. I’m sure you have to get up before dawn.” She walked him to the front door. As he was putting on his coat, she said, “I’m sorry about earlier.”
Dylan smiled and pulled her to him. “Me too. But there’ll be other times.” His mouth came down on hers, hard and hungry, leaving her in no doubt as to his plans for those ‘other times’.
By the time he released her she was tingling all over.
“Count on it,” he told her and left.
She watched him walk to his truck. Resistance is futile. Whoever said that had summed up her situation perfectly.
Chapter Twelve
Dylan didn’t see Sam for the next few days. Some things came up at the ranch that he needed to take care of and she went back to work, so they weren’t able to get together. But he talked to her each night, making sure nothing else out of the ordinary had happened and checking on how Shadow was doing. And wishing he was with her.
