by Foster, Lori
He couldn’t bear to think of her that upset, so he focused on something else she’d said. “Lonesome? But didn’t you just say there were other animals there with him?”
“He wasn’t alone, Osbourne, he was lonely. There’s a difference.”
His guts cramped. Maybe that was the crux of her problems. “You’re alone,” he pointed out. And then softly, with caution, “Are you lonely?”
For once, she seemed evasive, waving away his question. “I stroked the donkey, petted him, and I opened myself to him—”
“Opened yourself to him?”
Propping her hands on her hips, Marci huffed. “Are you going to repeat everything I say? Because if you are, we should sit down and get comfortable. But if that’s the case, I’m going to take the donkey out first so he can, uh, take his constitutional in the snow instead of on my floors.”
Ozzie sighed. There’d be no help for it. He put his coat back on. “Let’s talk in the truck on the way. Give me the keys. I’ll drive.”
She frowned in disapproval. “Didn’t you just get off work?”
“Yeah, but I’m fine.”
“You haven’t been to bed yet. You must be tired.”
Tired, no. Exasperated, yes. Confused, yes. Horny as hell, yes, yes, yes. But he’d manage. “The keys?”
“Fine.” She lifted them off a peg on the wall and handed them over to him. “But don’t make any sudden or jarring turns or anything. I don’t want the donkey to fall down.”
Ozzie ran his hand over his head. He pictured the donkey toppling sideways and had to roll his eyes.
But he didn’t want the donkey to fall down, either.
Marci pulled on a down-filled coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, put on her hat and mittens, and then she leashed the donkey.
“Don’t be nervous, darling.” She briefly pressed her cheek to the donkey’s head. “I’m taking you home. You’ll see. It’ll be okay.”
And like a contented puppy, the beast followed her out the apartment door and out the building, into the snow, to take his constitutional.
And like the bigger ass, Ozzie trailed along.
As if the foot of snow they’d already gotten wasn’t enough, the sky softened with flurries. As the sun struggled to peek above the horizon, an awful glare reflected off the white landscape.
“We’re in for a two-hour drive.” Ozzie watched as Marci opened the back of the big truck. The bottom half of the door unfolded like a loading hatch. “Will he need water or anything along the way?”
Smiling at him over her shoulder, she said, “No, he’ll be okay. Before I swiped him, I put some hay inside. It’s still there. Generally, donkeys need to eat less than a horse does of the same size. Two hours will be like nothing to him. But it’s very sweet of you to be concerned.”
Ozzie felt like a jerk. “It’s not sweet. It’s just that I don’t want him…suffering.”
“Or unhappy?”
A sharp quip concerning sensitive donkey-feelings tripped to the end of Ozzie’s tongue, but before he could give them voice, the donkey rushed up the ramp and into the truck.
And damn if he didn’t look anxious to be on his way.
Surely, the animal didn’t realize…No, of course he didn’t. Odds were, he’d been trained to get into a truck. Ozzie couldn’t let Marci’s cockeyed perceptions affect him.
Disgruntled, he stepped around her and closed up the truck bed securely. “Come on.” Taking Marci’s arm, he led her to the passenger’s side door. Their feet crunched through frozen snow, wind whistled against them, ice crystals formed on their faces—and Marci kept smiling.
He’d noticed that about her early on, the way she took whatever life threw at her and stayed happy. She had the most optimistic outlook he’d ever known. Maybe because he was such a pessimist, he liked that about her.
The smile was enticement enough, but Ozzie also noticed how it nudged a little dimple in her rosy cheek. Snowflakes clung to her thick lashes and settled on the tip of her cute little nose. Now that she’d gotten her way and the donkey was ready for its journey, she positively glowed with pleasure.
He couldn’t help himself. He bent and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to her cold lips. He could feel that smile of hers, and it fed something in his soul.
And that scared him.
He drew back and frowned at her.
Puzzled, she asked, “What?”
“Nothing.” Catching her around the waist, Ozzie hoisted her up into her seat, then, without thinking about it, he fastened her seatbelt. With her gaze glued to his face, Marci kept that crooked, endearing smile in place the entire time.
Their eyes met, and Ozzie couldn’t look away.
Would she wear that sweet smile while coming? Or would she clench her teeth and groan and…
When he realized he still loomed over her for no good reason at all, he cursed and stepped away, then slammed her door. On his way to his own seat, he lectured himself on the impropriety of lusting after a woman not based in reality. He knew the consequences and he knew, if he was smart, he’d satisfy his lust with a staid, no-nonsense woman.
Problem was, he’d never wanted another woman the way he wanted Marci.
He climbed into his own seat and Marci said, “That was a nice kiss.”
“Forget about it.”
“I don’t think so. I think I’ll cherish it, and remember it always.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“You’re sure you’re okay to drive?”
A safer topic. He grasped it like a lifeline. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve worked fourteen hours straight and still gotten myself home.”
“Fourteen hours?”
Ignoring the sexy, totally kooky broad beside him, Ozzie started the truck and eased it from the apartment parking lot out onto the road. “Sometimes standoffs take a hell of a long time. You don’t just up and leave in the middle of it.”
“I’d never be able to do that. I was up most of the night staking out the funeral home so I could sneak off with the donkey without anyone knowing.”
Ozzie refused to ask, but that didn’t stop her.
“I parked the rental truck in the empty grocery lot and walked down that way, then hid in the bushes. It was so cold and I got so sleepy, and my feet and behind were wet from sitting in the snow.”
Do. Not. Ask.
“It wasn’t until this morning that the road quieted down enough for me to slip away with the donkey. I was so cold and stiff, and tired, I could barely move. I’d planned to sleep in this morning, then you showed up. But at least by then I’d showered and thawed out all my body parts.”
He couldn’t think about her thawing. “What would you have done with him if I hadn’t showed up?”
Marci shrugged. “I was going to try some sleuthing on my own, but I realize now that I probably wouldn’t have gotten very far with that.” She pulled off her hat and put it in her lap, then, staring down at her hands, said, “I’m glad you did show up. Thank you.” And with that, she turned on the static-riddled radio and found a station playing Christmas music.
Ozzie was glad he’d shown up, too. What if someone in her apartment building had called about the noise, and Marci had gotten arrested? Worse, what if someone had found her on that dark, cold road and…
That thought was so disturbing, he cut it short. Holidays or not, there were still bums and creeps hanging on every street corner.
Out of the blue, taking Ozzie by surprise, Marci said, “I’m used to ridicule and disbelief, you know.”
He did a double take. “What?”
“Everyone thinks what you think. That’s why I don’t let many people know about my gift. In fact, I moved here to hide it. I don’t tell anyone now, and when I help an animal, I do it anonymously, to avoid some of the mockery.” She turned to look out the window. “When I was younger, I used to talk about it. But I quickly learned that it’s not a good thing to admit being different. I got called names by the meanest people, and the
others just kept their distance.”
The way he’d kept his distance.
What kind of childhood must she have had? Hell, what kind of adulthood was she having? He knew for a fact that she didn’t date much, and other than her sister, she didn’t seem close to anyone.
To give himself a moment to think, Ozzie adjusted the heater and defroster. Being SWAT required that he know how to deal with all types of people and their problems. He didn’t consider Marci delusional, just fanciful. She wasn’t a risk, except to his sanity. But she definitely had some ideas that needed special care.
When he said nothing, she sighed. “Bethany is really protective toward me. She loves animals as much as I do, but she doesn’t share my intuition. When I tell her something about animals, what they feel and need, she believes me a hundred percent, and she’ll do whatever she can to help. But it’s harder for her than it is for me.”
Never before had Marci conversed so casually with him. Their few attempts at dating had focused on the sexual chemistry between them, not on feelings. He enjoyed seeing Marci this way: relaxed, open, trusting.
Trusting? Well, yeah.
Giving it some thought, Ozzie supposed he had to consider her actions based in trust. Hadn’t she just said that she didn’t tell many people about her…gift?
But she’d told him.
And then he’d done the expected and avoided her. Stupid ass.
Okay, so he now knew enough about women to know not to get overly involved with the…unique ones. But that didn’t mean he had to steer clear of Marci altogether. He didn’t have to shun her.
He just wouldn’t entangle himself with her romantically. He’d keep things casual. Sexual, maybe, but casual all the same.
It amazed him, but Ozzie wanted to learn more about her and her strange predilections toward animals. “Since you and Bethany look identical, it’s surprising that she doesn’t share your gift.”
Resting her head back on the seat, Marci closed her eyes. “Lucius has always been able to tell us apart.”
Oh, ho. That sounded like a challenge. “And you think I can’t?”
She opened her eyes again and surveyed him. “But you just said we look identical.”
“Outwardly, sure. But you smile differently. You walk differently and laugh at different things. You’re usually off in your own little world, while Bethany is always on the attack.”
That had her laughing. “No, she is not. Well, except maybe with Lucius, before they got things ironed out.” Then, more quietly, “Or when she’s defending me.”
And that probably explained why Bethany didn’t seem to like him. From jump, she’d been prickly with him, always watching him as if she expected him to sprout horns. Or maybe…hurt her sister’s feelings.
Shit. He hated being predictable.
Marci touched his arm, causing him to stiffen. “I’ve noticed that people do different things in order to protect themselves. Bethany was afraid of her growing feelings for Lucius, so she picked arguments with him, forcing an emotional distance.”
The way she said that, with ripe anticipation while watching him so closely, raised Ozzie’s suspicions. He scowled. “Is that some kind of dig toward me?”
“Not a dig, but an observation. If you’ll be honest, you’ll admit that you use sarcasm and negativity to shield your feelings for me.”
Whoa. Hold the farm. His feelings?
Ozzie glanced toward her, but the snow flurries were thick enough now to require that he return his attention to the road. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You like me.”
Despite the cold, he broke out in a sweat. “I want you, Marci. It’s not at all the same thing.”
Taunting him, she leaned closer. “But you like me, too. Admit it.”
Get a grip, Ozzie. Don’t let her rile you. He clutched the steering wheel and formulated a plan of response. “Okay.” Forcing himself to relax, he feigned mere curiosity. “What gives you the impression I like you?”
“You watch me all the time.”
True. But easily explained. “You’re hot. Great ass. Stellar legs. More than a handful up top.”
Hell, he was turning himself on.
In a gruffer tone, he stated, “All the guys watch you.”
“You also glare at the other guys watching me.”
He snorted, but had to wonder…did he? Sure, he hated seeing any man disrespect a woman. But he had no claim on Marci. Just because he’d gone out with her a few times, and hadn’t yet had her, even though he wanted her bad…
No claim at all, damn it.
He’d refute her. He’d tell her he didn’t give a rat’s ass who looked at her, then she’d understand he wasn’t the one smitten.
He glanced at her. “Are you saying you like the other men eyeballing you?” Appalled at himself, Ozzie snapped his mouth shut. Had that aggressive, barked question reeking of jealousy actually come from him?
Marci’s smile spread slow and easy. “Not really.”
He was so lost in self-recriminations, he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Not really what?”
“If it wasn’t for you,” she assured him, “I probably wouldn’t have noticed anyone else looking at me. But because I’m always looking at you, I’ve seen when you get that murderous glint in your eyes.”
So he’d just clued her in? Great. Just friggin’ great. He could hardly deny the truth of her observations, so he just kept quiet.
“And your reaction has to mean something, right?”
“It means I don’t want anyone else jumping your bones before me.” Actually, he didn’t want anyone touching her. Ever. Period.
“Because you like me?”
Ozzie had never been the type to abuse anyone, but especially not a woman. At the same time, he didn’t want to give her false impressions. “Look, Marci, I like you fine. Really.” How could he not? She was sweet and cheerful and…“But I don’t like you, if you know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
He groaned. “You’re a nice-enough woman. You seem kind. And usually smart.”
“Usually?”
He would not belabor her weirdness with animals. “The thing is, I enjoy being single.”
“I didn’t ask to marry you.”
That made twice he’d heard that cursed word today, and both times in relationship to Marci. Driven by desperation, he squeezed the steering wheel and scowled. “I’m not looking to get involved beyond anything sexual.”
Marci tilted her head, as if trying to understand him. “Why did you come to see me this morning?”
Shew. An easy enough subject, one he could discuss without caution. “Lucius says someone’s been maybe bothering you.” At least that was the bona fide truth. “He wanted me to keep an eye on things.”
“Oh.” Disappointment had her crossing her arms. “And that’s why you’re helping me return the donkey? Because Lucius is your friend and he told you to babysit me?”
Not exactly, but it sounded good to him. “That’s about it.”
Silence reigned. He could actually feel her regret as she stared at him. For the longest time she said nothing, and Ozzie was starting to squirm. What if she cried? What if he’d just broken her little screwball heart?
“Okay then.”
He tucked in his chin and spared another glimpse in her direction. “Okay, what?”
“Okay, I believe you don’t like me.”
But…“Look, Marci, I don’t dislike you. Didn’t I just say that overall you’re a nice, sweet woman?”
“But you only want sex?”
The Inquisition couldn’t have been this tough.
Be noble, Oz.
Be strong.
Do not pull over to the side of the road to show her the exceptions you’d make for sex.
He cleared his throat and attempted to be as blunt as possible. “I want you, but then, we’ve already acknowledged that. The thing is, I’m sure you don’t want to get involved
in a purely sexual encounter.”
“I don’t?”
Ozzie concentrated on not getting a Jones. Again. “No, you don’t.” And then, because he couldn’t help himself: “Do you?”
She took her own sweet time thinking about it, probably to further torment him.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I want you an awful lot, too, and I’m not sure I want to go my whole life wondering how you would have been.”
Of all the dirty, rotten…! Ozzie could feel himself hardening. And she’d probably done that on purpose, just to get even with him for being surly. He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable, and considered apologizing for his less-than-sterling mood.
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, figured out what to say, and cleared his throat again. “Look, Marci, I guess I’m just tired and in a bad mood.”
“And our aborted lovemaking this morning has us both edgy.”
He locked his teeth. “Right. But I shouldn’t take that out on you. Just forget everything I’ve said, okay?”
“No, I won’t do that.” She looked out the window at the passing scenery. “Don’t you just love this time of year? Look at the Christmas lights. I especially like the blue ones. They’re so pretty.”
Oh, no, he wouldn’t let her switch topics on him that easily! “What do you mean, no?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t forget that sweet kiss earlier, or everything you’ve said. It’d be impossible. I’m used to people not liking me, but it bothers me more with you.”
It bothered him that she was bothered. “Marci—”
“And you should know, there is someone following me. I realize Lucius doesn’t believe it, he just asked you to look out for me to appease Bethany. He hates to disappoint her.”
Lucius was whipped big time.
“But if you look in the rearview mirror, you’ll see a van. It’s been there since we got on the main road. Watch and see if it stays with us.”
Startled by that, Ozzie glanced in the mirror and saw the van she meant. He grunted. “Could be anyone.” But there weren’t many cars out and about on that early snowy morning.
“Want to make a bet?” Marci twisted toward him as much as the confines of the seatbelt would allow. “A real bet, not just a verbal one.”
