The Bad Boy's Secret Romance

by Jessie Gussman

  “What do you think, Justice?” He liked the sound of her name. Liked the feel of it on his tongue. Back in high school, Amber had had a friend named Justice.

  That thought triggered another. And his eyes opened wide. Was he talking to Justice Hopkins?

  It couldn’t be.

  Although it’d been five or more years since he’d seen her. He supposed this woman could be her. She did have the dark eyes. And hair.

  Her sister, the one that had lied and sent his brother to prison, was a blond.

  Their families weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

  But somehow, here in the dark, the loyalty he felt toward his brother and his family wasn’t stronger than the pull he felt toward the woman in front of him.

  “I don’t like the thought of it being alone here by itself all night in the dark and cold.” She finally spoke, wrapping her arms around her waist like she needed the comfort.

  “It’s not that cold.” There were all kinds of lines running through his head, things he could say to her about the temperature, and her being cold, and him being willing to warm her up. But she just wasn’t the kind of girl that he could use his lines on. Maybe he’d known subconsciously that she was a Hopkins all along. Maybe that was why his lines wouldn’t come out.

  He still hoped she wasn’t a Hopkins. Believed it.

  “To a baby, it is.”

  He wanted to argue that the pup wasn’t exactly a baby and that the temperature wouldn’t bother it at all. Instead, he said, “I think the idea of it being hungry is worse than the idea of it being cold.”

  To his surprise, Justice snorted. He kinda thought she’d argue. Or maybe even agree. Wasn’t expecting a laugh.

  “That’s such a man thing to think. Always concerned about food.”

  “Hey, I find that offensive. I donated my last jerky strip to try to coax him out of the bushes. Some credit here.”

  “You offered him an inch of your last jerky stick. Which was barely any. You have almost an entire stick left.” She folded her arms over her chest and settled her weight on one leg.

  “It was still a sacrifice. I gave up food. Credit me.”

  Her head tilted, and one finger tapped her chin. “I can give you credit for that. But you still have a negative balance, because you could have donated your entire jerky stick to begin with.”

  “You saw how small that pup was. It couldn’t have eaten the whole thing.” That wasn’t entirely true. He was sure the pup could have indeed eaten the entire stick. It wasn’t that small.

  But she didn’t call him on it. “I didn’t say anything about it eating the beef jerky stick. You could’ve broken the entire thing up into small pieces and tossed them out. Maybe it would have come out faster if there had been more food.”

  “So now the dog is using human reasoning? Like, it’s thinking, I’m not going to come out for a little food, but I’ll come out for a lot of food?” He snorted. “Don’t think dogs think like that.”

  Her head shook. “I know they think like that. So the tiny little bit of credit that you get for sharing a tiny little piece of your beef jerky for the puppy does not nearly begin to wipe out the deficit of not donating the entire piece.”

  “I think the lady wants my beef jerky.” He couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. And he was rewarded with a flash of her teeth in the dark.

  “Busted. Is it homemade?”

  “Yeah. Made last hunting season. We keep it in the freezer.” He reached in his pocket and pulled the piece out. He handed it over. “It’s a lot easier to give it to a beautiful woman than to throw it on the ground and hope that dog will eat it.”

  And that wasn’t a line. He didn’t have any lines for beef jerky.

  “Thank you.” She immediately started tearing pieces off, and he knew exactly what she was going to do with his sacrifice. It wasn’t so dark he couldn’t see her smile. One he returned.

  “Smells good. I guess I’ll have to eat a small piece,” she murmured.

  He didn’t say anything, but grabbed his phone out of his pocket and pulled the flashlight app up.

  He shined it in the bushes. “Do dogs’ eyes reflect light? I can’t remember.”

  “Yes, I believe so. My sister’s dog’s eyes reflect my car lights.”

  She had a sister. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t interested in her sister. He probably shouldn’t be interested in her. But there was something about her.

  He should walk away. He was interested in romance, sure, but a girl like this was one a man kept.

  He shone the light around the bushes, peering down and squinting in. He didn’t want to scare the animal if it was still there, so he carefully took a few steps around, trying not to make a whole lot of noise.

  “I can’t see it anywhere.” Justice aside, he really did want to find the puppy. It definitely didn’t sit right with him to leave something so young and defenseless and so obviously scared here alone by itself all night.

  “You’d think if someone lost it, they’d be here looking for it,” Justice said from behind him.

  He glanced over his shoulder, and she was peering into the bushes with him, her own cell phone lit up.

  “Well, it’s possible that someone dropped it off because they didn’t want to take care of it anymore.”

  She gave an irritated puff of breath. “I was thinking that same thing. But it’s hard for me to reconcile in my head that people would do that.”

  “Might be better for them to drop him off here than to take him to a shelter. They could’ve just dropped him off along the road where he probably would’ve gotten hit.” He didn’t add that he knew people who put puppies in bags with rocks in them and threw them into a pond. Kittens too. He hadn’t heard of that happening for a decade or more, but he’d heard of it several times growing up. Stories that hadn’t sat well with him. Stories he didn’t, couldn’t, forget.

  “I suppose you’re right. Better here than along the road.” Her voice was soft, like maybe she had stories of her own.

  “They were probably hoping for someone like you or me to come along, not be able to resist the cuteness, and take it home.”

  “I couldn’t do that. My sister already has a dog in the house we share. Two would be too many.”

  “I’m not supposed to have pets.” And his brother, Foster, was planning a major renovation on his place. He couldn’t keep the dog because he would be living with their dad for a few weeks. But Thad could take it to the Richmond Rebels’ garage. They’d had Ms. Reva’s dog there for years. Until Ms. Reva had gone to Florida and taken Trixie with her. There hadn’t been a dog to replace her. His brothers would be fine with it, as long as Thad took care of it.

  He had to find it first.

  And it was nowhere in sight.

  “Let’s shut the lights off and be quiet for a moment. Maybe we’ll hear it whine or growl.” Justice moved to shut her flashlight app off, and he did the same.

  But with the dark, the only sound that came with the gurgling of the river was the call and chatter of the insects in the woods. They were actually so loud Thad doubted they could hear the dog over them anyway.

  Justice must have come to the same conclusion, because he could almost feel her wilt beside him. She gave a frustrated sigh.

  “I can hardly stand the idea of walking away, leaving the puppy here. But short of beating around the bushes, and probably chasing it completely away, I don’t know what else to do. If it were light, it would be a different story.”

  “I feel the same. And I agree. We’d just scare it and would never see it run away.”

  Most of him was reluctant to leave because of the puppy, but there was a part of him that didn’t want to walk away from Justice. He liked her matter-of-fact help and her lack of unnecessary drama.

  She was upset over the puppy but not demanding he do anything that she wouldn’t do. He’d dated some girls who would expect him to crawl on his hands and knees through the bushes and be upset when he tried to ex
plain to them that he didn’t think it was a good idea.

  Justice didn’t seem like she was older than any of those girls, but she did seem more mature. He liked her easy confidence. It didn’t seem arrogant or like she had to be better than him. She just seemed very content with who she was. It drew him.

  But he also knew she wouldn’t fall for any of his lines. Not that he had a ton, but he had played the game long enough to know what needed to be said for a superficial relationship. He couldn’t get interested in using any of those on her.

  But that meant now that they decided to stop looking for the puppy, he didn’t have any way of figuring out how he could see her again. And he wanted to.

  She wasn’t the girl for him.

  So he flipped his flashlight app back on and shone the beam on the ground. He almost asked if she needed him to help her carry anything, but he figured that would be a no from a girl like Justice. She might even get upset if he offered. So he didn’t. He just picked up her mat.

  “I can get that.” She had followed him the couple of steps to the rock, but when she turned to talk to him, she lost her balance. Not a lot, just enough to windmill her arms as she took a big step to the side. One of her hands touched his arm as they went flying up, and her fingers gripped his bicep.

  “No, it’s okay. That’s attached. I’ll carry it.” He couldn’t help but tease her.

  She laughed. He wasn’t sure she would. He could have her pegged all wrong, but he thought she was a professional type. The businesswoman, used to getting what she wanted and fighting everyone around her for it. The kind that could get her own door and would be offended if he reached to do it for her.

  Her fingers felt cool against his hot skin, and they seemed to stay on his arm longer than it was necessary for her to catch her balance. In fact, she stilled and didn’t move, her fingers still squeezing his bicep.

  He didn’t move either. She peered up at him in the dark. His cell phone pointed at the ground and cast the faintest shadow over her face.

  Wasn’t too often that he was at a loss for words. Or maybe, it wasn’t even that he was at a loss. He just didn’t have anything to say. Just standing there, looking at her, being next to her was enough. He couldn’t remember that ever happening before.

  The pinprick sensation in his stomach was new as well. Back when he drag raced his pickup at night on the highway, it hadn’t been too uncommon to feel that at the starting line, right before the flag went down. But that had been years ago, and he’d put that behind him. He’d been staying on the right side of the law for a while now. Trying to anyway.

  He didn’t detect any movement, but she seemed to shake herself. Her head tilted. “Maybe I just needed you to help me out of here.”

  He could hear just a little flirt in her voice. But there was also something else, maybe a little uncertainty or unfamiliarity, because he was pretty sure she was the kind of woman who never needed any help.

  And it wasn’t like they were that far off the trail anyway.

  He went with the flirt, because he could handle that. He wasn’t ready to be vulnerable, and he didn’t really want to see too much of her.

  “I guess if I can’t rescue a puppy in distress, a maiden in distress is the next best thing.”

  She huffed. “I’m hardly a maiden.”

  Thad wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by that. Whether she was offended at the old-fashioned word, or whether she was making fun of herself. It wasn’t clear in her tone.

  “Lady in distress then,” he said, hoping his guess was correct.

  Her hand dropped from his arm, and a few seconds later, her phone light came on. She moved to walk around him. “I’m not good at playing the helpless victim.”

  “No. I hadn’t gotten the impression that you were.” It was too bad, because there was something inside of him that wanted to be the one doing the saving. Just seemed like there were precious few women who wanted to be saved anymore. They were like Justice, not needing anyone to take care of them. He couldn’t quell that side of him, though, the part that wanted to be the protector. It was hardwired in his soul.

  It made his chest feel flat, because he liked Justice.

  “Good. I’m glad I wasn’t sending out false signals. And the only reason I’m not carrying my mat is because I didn’t want to get into a wrestling match with you for it.” There was irritation in her voice, but he thought it was directed mostly at herself. She had shown a moment of weakness when she grabbed his arm. He bet she didn’t like it.

  “That’s good. I definitely have the weight advantage there. I think I could pin you.” He hoped she didn’t get the wrong impression from that.

  Funny how, through this whole entire conversation, his main concern had been offending her. That probably should be a sign to his brain, but more especially to his heart, that this was a bad idea. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life worried about offending his wife, watching every word that came out of his mouth.

  They walked in silence to the parking area. Wasn’t far, a five-minute walk, and he was content to let the air breathe between them, enjoying the night sounds and scents and, surprisingly, enjoying the companionship and easy grace of the woman beside him.

  She was tall and slender, and it felt right to have her walking with him, in a way he’d never noticed before with any other woman he’d ever walked beside.

  When they made it to the lot, the only vehicles left were his bike and the low-slung yellow sports car. Hers. Of course.

  He walked to it, thinking he’d like to open her door but figuring she wouldn’t want him to.

  The lights flashed, and the trunk lid slowly opened. He figured that was a sign that she wanted her mat put back there. So he did.

  The trunk closed as he stepped away, and she stood beside her open door, almost as though she was as reluctant as he to end the evening.

  That was probably his imagination.

  “Do you come here often?” she asked, keeping her hand on the door but not moving to get in.

  “Used to fish some when I was younger. I guess, like all the high schoolers in the area, I swam here some growing up as well. But no, not anymore. Haven’t been here in years.” He took a breath, not sure the question was going to come out of his mouth until it actually did. “You?”

  “Several times a week. Yes. I love it here.” Her head moved, not quite a tilt but as though a thought had just struck her. “Why are you here today?”

  Again, he had lines, yes. And he used them. But he didn’t lie. Although it was tempting to start now. Even more tempting to walk away without answering her. He didn’t owe her an answer, any more than she needed to let him open her door. But he couldn’t work that way.

  “I saw you from the road. I had to stop.” He turned and took one step toward his bike before he turned his head and said over his shoulder, “Take care, Justice.”

  Chapter 3

  Justice was showered and out the door before dawn the next morning.

  She’d been half an hour late for the charity event with Andrew the night before. But trying to find the puppy had been worth it. Although she could’ve left the trail sooner and been home ten or fifteen minutes quicker, except for the man that she’d met.

  Odd, because she didn’t take to strange men. She had a hard time respecting men at all. In her experience, they didn’t respect women, and most of the time, they were crude and vulgar about it. It wasn’t that she didn’t find them attractive. She did. Physically. It just seemed like when she got to know them, they turned out to be shallow, selfish, and self-centered.

  She figured out she was better off on her own.

  So that made it doubly odd that she tossed and turned all night last night.

  In some ways, she was worried about the puppy. But that really wasn’t what kept her from sleeping.

  Not as much as a pair of deep brown eyes and short hair that showed just a hint of wave. Rough clothes—jeans, T-shirt, boots—the kind of clothes she didn’t s
ee every day at her job as a bank executive.

  But it wasn’t the clothes. It was the man who wore them with an easy confidence, a subtle sense of humor. And a compassion for the puppy that surprised her. She would never have asked him to turn his flashlight app on, stay with her, and look for it. But he hadn’t needed to be asked.

  And that had impressed her.

  But despite the flutters in her stomach and the odd itch of her heart, she probably would’ve put him out of her mind, except she couldn’t forget his last comment.

  He’d stopped because of her.

  She knew, intellectually, that meant he’d seen her and stopped. She wasn’t really interested in a man who was only interested in the way she looked. Which, by his admission, was what had caught his attention.

  But he hadn’t pressed the point, and he hadn’t used the line as a line. It was said like he hadn’t wanted to answer her.

  Still, it was highly unlikely that she’d ever see him again. She probably wouldn’t even recognize him. Although she could tell his eyes were brown, dark and deep, it had been too dark for her to have a clear picture of all the features of his face. She didn’t even know his name. And hadn’t thought to ask. She just enjoyed his presence, which was really odd.

  It wasn’t light yet when she pulled in and parked at the trail parking lot, surprised there was another vehicle already in the lot. It was a black truck, one she’d not seen parked there before.

  She’d never been here this early, though. Usually she was at least half an hour later, or more, depending on what time she needed to be in at the bank.

  She grabbed the bites of chopped chicken that she’d brought with her just in case she saw the dog. She couldn’t go into work wondering about it all day. She had to come and check.

  Although she wore her business suit, her heels were on the passenger seat, and she walked down the trail in her sneakers.

  She didn’t know what she’d do if she was able to catch the pup. Hopefully, it wasn’t too dirty. Although she had enough time, if she caught it right away, to go home and change. What she would do with the dog when she did, and afterward, she had no idea.