Wicked: A Small Town Romance (Love in Lone Star Book 3)

by Ashley Bostock

  “Your mutt,” I told her.

  “Yeah, about that,” she said, as if I hadn’t offered to fuck. “I was hoping that she could stay here. Please.”

  “What? No fucking way, Grace. Uh-uh.”

  “Please. It will only be for a little while. Until I either find her owner or figure out a way to keep her.”

  “I’m not taking care of her.”

  “You don’t have to,” she grabbed a hold of my arm, her eyes pleading with mine. “I’ll take care of her while she’s here.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her because this, I wanted to hear. “How?”

  “I’ll come over and feed her and let her out to go to the bathroom. That kind of stuff.”

  “No. I don’t like pets. I don’t like that damn dog. It’s not going to work. I work almost every day. So do you, in case you forgot.”

  “School’s almost out. In two weeks, it will be over. Please Maverick,” she begged.

  Her voice was a combination of panic and urgency. Her eyes were wide and scared. Fuck.

  My control was already slipping because she looked so damn sweet and I had this odd sense to want to do what I could to protect her and her mutt.

  “Why can’t you ask Thatcher?”

  “Because I live closer to you than him. I could walk over here every day with no problem. I could let her outside and feed her on my way to school and then back. I’ll spend the time to see if she’s potty-trained. Tell me this can work.”

  “I don’t want the damn mutt in my house.”

  “It can’t stay outside all alone. It’s a people dog. She likes company. I’ll get her a crate to sleep in at night.”

  “You think you’re going to come over any time you want?” She bit her lip and the movement had me momentarily distracted. But the look in her eyes…hell, she was a confident little thing. She did think she could come over any time she wanted.

  “I was hoping. At least until I can come up with some kind of plan. Who knows, maybe someone will claim her by then. I’ll put up little posters around town and see if anyone comes forward. If so, there won’t be an issue. If not, then I’ll have to figure something else out.”

  Against my better judgement, I found myself agreeing. Only because I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her cute ass. Even if it were just to look. “Fine. I’ll give you a key that way you can come and go as you please. One week from this moment, is all the time you got, Princess.”

  I wasn’t prepared for the way she bounded into my chest, her arms going tight around my neck – it was a mutt – how could she be so excited? Her hair fanned across my cheek as she pressed her curvy body into mine. The sugary smell from earlier filled my nostrils and it was all I could do to wrap my arms around her waist and hug her back.

  Screw it. This was a one-time thing, after all.

  She was sweet and warm. She fit perfectly into my grip. I hadn't been this close to a woman in almost fifteen years – not a broad like Tiffany Dee. A woman. One who cared about manicures and pedicures and one who sat properly, who never went out in public without looking her best. A woman unlike all those broads up at the bar. Fifteen years. Not since Candi. She shifted in closer and I couldn’t dream up the way her body felt right, how she felt right. I had to remind myself she was Thatcher’s little sister. It was more difficult than it should have been. Especially when she turned her head and the warm, sugary air of her breath caressed my neck, “You won’t regret this, Maverick.”

  I let go of her and turned to the back door ignoring the feeling in my chest and the voice whispering to me that somehow I would regret this. “Let’s bring your mutt inside.”

  The dog bounded into the house, by-passing me completely like she knew what was good for her and halted at Grace’s feet where she put her front paws up on Grace’s legs, causing Grace to bend down and pick her up.

  “What about tonight?” she asked. “I don’t have a crate for her yet.”

  “Looks like she’s going home with you then.”

  “I can’t. The apartment complex says no pets. Even if it’s just for one night.”

  “Can’t help you.”

  “She can sleep with you-”

  “Fuck no. That’s not happening, Grace. Ever.” She flinched at my attitude and I couldn’t have cared less. I wasn’t having the dog sleep with me. Did she not hear me when I said I didn't like pets?

  “What am I going to do?”

  “Not my problem.”

  She bowed her head in defeat. I spared a glance at the topic at hand. The mutt did look…neglected. Its coat was dirty, gray like it’d taken a page from my book and the fur around its ears had visible matting. As I watched Grace nuzzle the dirty mutt, I decided that finding Grace was the best damn thing that had ever happened to that dog. Temporary or otherwise. She was already in love with the thing. No judgement, no selfish spiel about it cramping her style – just pure unconditional love.

  Something I knew zero about.

  “What are we going to do with you, Little Bo Peep?”

  “Wait – Little Bo Peep? That’s ridiculous. Where’d you come up with that?”

  “When I was listening to you fuck. It’s fitting to me. Since Peeping Tom sounds like a name made for a boy more than it does for a girl. I don't even know what it’s called when you listen to someone have sex. It's not exactly a Peeping Tom but that was all I could come up with on short notice.”

  She was certifiable. The shock of knowing she’d listened to me fucking another woman still hadn’t worn off. Now she was naming the mutt after the incident – like listening to people getting down and dirty was an everyday occurrence.

  “How about Booty?”

  “Booty? As in booty call? No thank you.”

  “Suit yourself. Sounds a lot better than Little Bo Peep.”

  “Whatever. I’ll think of something else. In the meantime, I’m running out of options and you’re no help.”

  “You better figure something out. Isn’t it past your bed time?”

  “It is. I can’t leave her outside all night. I know you’re Thatcher’s friend, but aren’t you mine, too? By extension, at least.”

  No. I wasn’t her friend. Crossing that line didn’t seem like a good idea. Not where Grace was concerned. She was the type who embraced life, barged into your world and made it beautiful and good, complete with sugar cookie smells. She probably took great pride in baking the damn things, too. I wasn’t into that. Not her friend, not her enemy. I was…her older brother’s best friend. A family acquaintance. I was a dick when it suited me and Grace didn’t deserve any of that bullshit. Aside from that, I was a hundred percent positive she wouldn't want any of my bullshit. She was all country club and debutants, and we all knew I was the Lazy Dogs Saloon.

  Aside from all of that though, something inside me wanted to push her. I wanted to see how far she was willing to go. And at what point she would chicken out.

  Tiffany Dee, I could handle.

  Grace Patterson, I could not.

  Would not.

  “Stay the night,” I shrugged. I said it only to get a rise out of her cause so far, I wasn’t having much luck. Some ill-conceived notion that I could push her proper buttons and shock her. Daring her too, in a way—I wanted a reaction from her.

  “Thank you. That’s what I’m going to have to do,” she said.

  Fuck.

  “I wasn’t serious.”

  “It’s the only plausible idea. I’ll just sleep here on your couch with her. I’ll be gone before you even wake up in the morning.”

  “Grace. You can’t stay here. First of all, if Thatcher found out, he’d be annoyed at you and royally pissed at me. Second of all, it was a joke. I wasn’t serious.”

  “Can she sleep in your bed tonight?” she asked, still cradling the topic of conversation in her arms. I was mildly envious that the mutt got to feel those tits. The damn thing even blinked an eye open at me like it was tormenting me. It knew. I grunted in frustration.

  “Hell
no.”

  “And I can’t take her to my apartment. I have no choice. I’ll sleep on the couch. You won’t even know we’re here.”

  That wasn’t true. Three feet of nothing was between us and my body was tuned to her like a bead on a rod. I could feel her. Practically taste her. Her smell enveloped me like smoke. I would lay awake all night with the knowledge that she was out here.

  “It’s not a good idea,” I said. Even though I knew my resolve was softening. The little mutt snuggled into her arms, fast asleep. It was like Grace lacked the ability to know when I was being sarcastic – something that everyone usually was quick to notice. Except her.

  “Thatcher doesn’t even have to know. You and I know it’s harmless and what Thatcher doesn’t know, won’t hurt him. I won’t tell. Will you?”

  Hmmm, harmless? For her, maybe. I pulled my do-rag off my head in frustration and fanned my short hair out of habit with my other hand. “I’m good at keeping secrets. Your brother is the closest friend I have in Lone Star next to Ryan. He would kill me if he knew I let you spend the night. Even if this has nothing to do with sex, Thatch would think it did.”

  “What am I going to do then?” Her eyes glassed over with unshed tears and my stomach hollowed out as if I’d just gotten the wind kicked out of me. Having a drug-addict mother wouldn’t break me but watching a woman as sweet as Grace cry, would.

  Sucker.

  “Fine. Fine. You win.” She came up like she was going to hug me again and I put my hand out to stop her, shaking my head. I couldn’t go through another bout of feeling her slender body against mine. “This better never get out, Grace.”

  “It won’t. I won’t tell anyone I stayed here.”

  “And if that mutt pisses in here, it won’t be staying after tonight. Neither will you.” I made that as clear as I could. This situation was against my better judgement. Those tears though. Even though it was sadness, it was part of her beautiful and perfect world already trying to grab me with its tentacles, roping me in to start giving a shit.

  “She won’t. She’ll behave. I have a feeling she’s already potty-trained. Do you have a blanket I can use?”

  I growled as I retreated to my room in search of a blanket and pillow. The woman was going to be the death of me. I’d never had to deal with Grace on a one-on-one basis—I didn’t realize how persuasive she was. It wasn’t like batting her eyes “fuck-me” persuasive, it was her youthful, naïve looks and the fact that she was so invested in this mutt situation that I couldn’t say no to her. It was her pure innocence.

  I grabbed her bedding, trying to ignore her sweet talk to the dog. Yes, baby, you’re so sweet. You get to sleep with me tonight. Yes, he’s the big bad wolf and I'm going to protect you. Yes, baby, I love you. Ha. Big bad wolf. Yup. That was me to a T. And she was Little Red Riding Hood.

  I would eat her up whole.

  I would enjoy it, too.

  “Here.” I handed her the thin blanket, cotton sheet and a pillow from my bed. “Now, go to bed.”

  I was suddenly irritated, wishing like hell I could pull out the hog and take it for a ride. Devil’s Pass. Red Willow Canyon. There was nothing better than having the wind whip my face as I left the world behind. As long as I could be anywhere else but here with Grace Patterson and her sweet talk. Her bright shiny days.

  I turned to leave but she stopped me. “You don't really have to go to sleep right now, do you?”

  I glanced at her hand on my arm and shrugged it off. “You said it was past your bedtime.”

  “It is. But I was hoping I could give her a quick bath.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No. I don't suppose you have any dog shampoo, do you?”

  The look on my face clued her in.

  “Okay. Well, I think it would be okay to use a bar of soap. Just for tonight. We could give her a quick scrub down.”

  “There is no ‘we’ in any of this.”

  She tilted her head to the side, her doe-eyes pleading. “I need some help, Maverick. For one night. Please. Can you stop being so difficult? What is it with you anyway? It's a dog, for crying out loud. You act like she’s a work of the Devil.”

  My mouth twitched up, “A work of the Devil I can handle. This, this is something else entirely.” Something I wanted no part in. What was it with her? She didn't even know the mutt and she was already coddling it like a fucking baby. For all she knew the damn thing had enough fleas to hurt us both.

  Leaving her again, I grabbed a bar of soap out of the bathroom, as well as a towel, knowing if I didn’t that would be the next thing out of her mouth. “Here. Nothing else, you got me?”

  She rolled her eyes at me, brushing my warning off completely. “I might need a pair of scissors to cut the matted hair away from her ears.” As if I hadn't said a thing.

  “No. Take it to the groomers tomorrow. You’re pushing my buttons, Gracie.”

  She came toe to toe with me. The mutt still sleeping, sandwiched between us, her breasts lightly grazed my shirt. “You’re pushing my buttons, Maverick Carter. This dog needs help. Love. Why are you making it difficult for me to give her that? I know somewhere in there,” she placed her palm on my chest directly over my heart, “you have a heart. Your secret will be safe with me.”

  Oh, the girl’s got balls. Her blue eyes didn't so much as flicker as she said this to me. Honesty. It was something I doubted in most people aside from my inner circle of friends. Which, admittedly wasn't very big because of this reason. Honesty required loyalty and that was far and few between these days. But looking into Thatcher’s little—grown—sister’s eyes, I saw it clear as day. Unwavering honesty and innocence. Confidence, too. The world had yet to pull her in and drag her through the mud straight into the depths of hell.

  For this reason, I stepped back and the air cooled my chest where her hand had been. I found some scissors and handed them to her without saying another word.

  She eyed me warily as if she wasn't sure what to do. She drug her teeth along her bottom lip, assessing me, scrutinizing me. Something in her eyes flickered as she watched me. I wanted to drag my teeth along that bottom lip. Taste that confidence and innocence of hers across my tongue.

  “What? I'm not one of your students. Quit looking at me like I need your help.”

  “Did I say anything about you needing my help?” she said.

  “What then? What are looking at me that way for?”

  “I never noticed how unhelpful you are,” she said matter of factly.

  “I got you what you asked for.”

  “Begrudgingly.”

  “Begrudgingly? Who talks like that? And anyway, I never noticed how pushy you are,” I said

  “I'm not pushy. I'm simply trying to help a poor, lost animal that needs me.” She stroked the mutt along his head. His ears twitched up as if it were deciding to wake up. I rubbed my eyes. This was insane. How had she literally fallen at my feet tonight? What had I done to deserve this?

  In Lone Star, I’d mostly kept to myself – I was a pro at that. I worked and I enjoyed my bachelorhood. I didn't want pets – dogs or otherwise, yet I’d managed to be blessed with not only a puppy, but a woman who had no clue that I really was the big bad wolf and would eat her up like she was candy on a stick, all in one night. A woman, who, so far, couldn't identify sarcasm if it bit her on her ass and one who apparently didn't get the memo that I liked to be alone. Except to fuck. Oh, yeah, and add that to the list. Naïve. Innocent. And yet unperturbed by listening to me have sex.

  How’d I get so lucky?

  “Shut the lights off when you’re done,” I said.

  I left Grace and her mutt alone in my kitchen and went to my room. All over again I listened to her sweet talk to the damn dog. You’re so sweet, baby. Who would let you go? I can do this all by myself. We don't need him, do we? I don’t know why he pretends he’s so tough. It's okay, I’ll take care of you. You’ll be a good baby, won't you? You’re going to sleep with me on his couch, aren't you?
After we get you all nice and pretty. The water ran for some time as I envisioned her washing the dog in my kitchen sink.

  Finally, silence. My mind was restless thinking about Grace sleeping under my sheet on my couch with my pillow. The angel who listened as I fucked another female. Knowing I could pull another wad out of me—as if Tiffany hadn’t accomplished that—I wasn't about to jerk off as Grace lay in the other room. I wasn't so sure what she would do if she heard me. I couldn’t explain that to Thatcher.

  I tossed and turned the entire night, with her sleeping under my roof. When daylight broke through the corners of my shades, something hit me. A feeling I hadn't felt in such a long time, I almost wasn't sure what it was even though I let it eat at me all night.

  I was jealous.

  Jealous of that fucking mutt that got to cuddle with Gracie all night long.

  I didn't even bother to keep quiet as I strolled out of my room in the morning. The first thing I noticed of course, was her. One arm flung over her face in sleep. One bare-assed, mile long leg bent up resting along the back of the couch. The mutt was nestled in between her legs and it popped its head up as soon as I walked past. Grace’s shoulder was mostly bare—she must have worn a tank top beneath her shirt last night. A shirt that was in a heap on the floor next to her, along with her phone and shoes.

  Hell.

  Good thing she wasn't staying here again.

  I turned from the sight of her and headed into my kitchen to make some coffee. I caught myself taking the grounds and the filter quietly out of the cupboards, filling the pot as quickly and quietly as I could before hitting the power button. I leaned against the counter and waited for the coffee to brew. Thankfully, I couldn't see the living room from where I stood. I didn't need to gawk over her sleeping form.

  A wall separated the kitchen from the living room. If I were to sit at my kitchen table, I'd be able to see her. I’d wait for the coffee and head out to the garage. I’d been working on my dad’s old Indian and in the near future, she was going to be finished.