If She Dares (Contemporary Romance)

by Tanya Michaels

  “It’s okay, buddy. I won’t let anything happen to you.” At the sound of her voice, the dog’s tail wagged, and Riley’s heart melted. She picked up the puppy and stood, glancing around. No one seemed to be calling for a lost dog. The nearest business on the street, a hair salon, had already closed for the day. Meanwhile, clouds that looked downright ominous were rolling in.

  She tucked the shaking canine between her jacket and workout top, cradling it against her body heat. “Looks like you’re coming with me.”

  What are you going to do with a puppy, genius? She didn’t know yet, but no way in hell was she leaving it here at a street intersection. She could always come back later and post flyers around the area.

  Keeping up a soft, one-sided conversation meant to keep the puppy calm, she hastened to her car, glad for the remote control on her key ring that made it easy to unlock the door without a free hand. Once she had the passenger door open, she unzipped her gym bag and dumped her clothes on the floor. She needed the empty bag for a makeshift pet carrier. Hopefully, the mesh sides that would allow the puppy to see her would keep him from freaking out.

  Him? Curious, she held up the puppy. “Ah, not a boy, then.” She scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Us girls have to stick together, right?” She set the gym bag on the seat and gently deposited her new friend inside. After zipping the bag, she put the seat belt through the bag’s straps to keep the puppy safely anchored in case Riley had to make any sudden stops.

  By the time Riley got in on her side of the car, the puppy was whining and pawing at the side of the bag.

  “Don’t worry.” Riley put her key in the ignition. “We’ll be home soon.” Home. Where no pets were allowed. Maybe I can change that if I get voted onto the tenant board.

  Perhaps. But the election was a month away and the new board didn’t even take office until the first of January. No way she could sneak a puppy in and out of the building for regular walks from now until the new year without anyone noticing.

  “Cute little thing like you probably has an owner, right?” The dog, though fretful, didn’t seem malnourished or filthy. “I just have to keep you out of the storm for tonight, then we’ll see about finding out if you belong to anyone.”

  The puppy made another noise, but this one was more warble than whimper, as if she was just trying to keep up her end of the conversation.

  As Riley backed out of her parking spot, she resisted the urge to think up names for the adorable canine. Stick to the plan. Put a roof over her head for tonight, then find her owner. Of course, even a single night was risky. If she got busted with a dog after the tenant board had specifically refused her pet request, there would be hell to pay.

  An unexpected grin tugged at Riley’s lips. This was rebellious and utterly spontaneous, the most she’d felt like herself in months—not counting her teasing exchange with Jack in the elevator. You weren’t going to think about him anymore today.

  Right. Good policy...even if it was proving difficult to maintain.

  * * *

  JACK LEANED BACK in the driver seat, glad to be home but so drained it took him a moment to summon the energy to climb out of his car. He’d worked several crime scenes today, but the last one had been emotionally grueling. The only witness to the shooting had been a neighborhood kid. Jack had tried to patiently coax details from the shaken child while mentally cursing the unfairness of life.

  Childhood shouldn’t include murder. It should be all ice cream cones and...amusement parks or something. Granted, his own upbringing had included more criminal activity than family vacations. That kid today must have really got to him, because usually Jack was more of a realist. He knew he couldn’t magically make the world fair—but he could help take down the bastards who were messing it up for everyone else. Bolstered by the hope that his composites would generate hits and ultimately lead to stopping more bad guys, he opened his door.

  A few spaces down, another car was pulling in, and he recognized it as the same blue compact Riley had driven away in on Saturday. His mood unexpectedly lightened. He should ask her if she’d taken any steps to challenging Mrs. Tyler’s Reign of Tenant Terror. He headed in Riley’s direction, ignoring the rain that pelted him. It had been raining all damn month—what were a few more drops at this point?

  Before he reached her, Riley got out of her car, darted around to the passenger side and shrugged out of her jacket. Beneath it was an athletic top that momentarily stopped him in his tracks. He’d wondered previously if she wore dark clothes to avoid notice. The fitted racerback tank was black, with the exception of some turquoise piping, but with a silhouette like hers and beautifully sculpted shoulders, she might as well have been wearing neon. He drank in the sight of her.

  Plenty of his art classes had included study of the human form—not to mention his ongoing, informal study of women in more intimate settings—so why did he feel poleaxed at the sight of Riley in an athletic top?

  She was such a sexy combination of strength and delicate femininity. Strength she’s going to use to kick your ass if she catches you leering. He ducked his gaze, but she was too busy fidgeting with something to have noticed him yet. As he got closer, he realized she was positioning her jacket through the straps of a bag, draping it as if to protect the bag’s contents from the rain.

  “Hey,” he greeted her. “Need help with something?”

  She glanced up, looking momentarily startled by his presence, then breaking into a wide grin. “Nah, I think I got this. But—”

  “Miss Kendrick!” Anna Tyler emerged from the building’s exit. Her shrill voice carried across the lot, only partially obscured by the whipping wind. She stopped to wrestle with an ugly paisley umbrella that was blown inside out.

  Riley cursed under her breath. “What was she doing, lying in wait for my return?” She squirmed suddenly, gripping the bag she carried over her shoulder. “Turns out, I do need your help. Can you sneak this inside for me? I’ll be upstairs to get her as soon as possible.”

  “Her?” Jack’s eyebrows skyrocketed.

  She lifted the edge of the carefully arranged coat so he could peek beneath it. A canine muzzle pressed against the side of the bag, and he recoiled.

  “You have a dog in there!” His voice was louder than he’d intended.

  “Shh.” Riley gave him a stern look. “Lesson one about illicit smuggling, don’t announce it to the entire county.” She slid the straps off her shoulder and tried to get him to take the bag. “I know it’s kind of crappy to ask you to violate apartment policy on my behalf, especially since you just moved in, but—” She cast a frantic look over his shoulder at the approaching Mrs. Tyler. “Please? I double-dog dare you. Pun intended.”

  He lowered his gaze to the bag and its unwanted cargo. The double part better not be literal; two dogs would be even worse than one.

  Still, he took the bag. Regardless of his past history with dogs, he wasn’t strong enough to refuse a beautiful woman in spandex. “See you upstairs.” Grabbing the jumble of coat and mesh and dog, he went around the front of Riley’s car to the next row so his path wouldn’t directly cross Mrs. Tyler’s.

  He kept the bag pressed against his side to keep from jostling the dog with his brisk stride. On the plus side, it had to be a tiny dog to fit inside Riley’s bag. You are a grown man. You are not afraid of something that’s smaller than the average teddy bear. The mutt his mom’s ex-boyfriend used to bring over had been the size of a coffee table. Looking back, Jack realized the dog’s vicious disposition was probably in response to its owner treating it the same way the worthless SOB had treated Jack’s mother. When it came to losers, Cyndi Reed sure knew how to pick ’em.

  Jack took the stairs two at a time. The dog was mostly quiet but yelped when Jack shut the apartment door behind them. After carefully setting the bag on the counter that divided the kitchen from the living roo
m, Jack moved the coat aside. A fuzzy face stared back at him, chocolaty eyes wide with apprehension.

  “I have to admit, you’re...kind of cute. For a dog.”

  Dog, or was puppy more accurate? He’d taken the bag from Riley before getting a good look at the passenger inside. He’d assumed it was a small breed like a Chihuahua or a... Well, he didn’t really know the names of many dog breeds. He had no idea what this one was or if it was even close to being fully grown.

  The dog pawed at the material between them.

  “Sorry, but you’re staying put until Riley comes for you.” He avoided looking into the big brown eyes. “Don’t bother trying to guilt me. You’re warm and dry in there, and I have no idea if you’re housebroken.” Especially if his suspicion about it being a young puppy was true.

  Despite Jack’s sound reasoning, the dog protested with increasingly loud whining. Although he and Riley had the only two units on this floor, Jack turned on his television to help mask the noise. “Calm down, fuzz-bucket.”

  Too bad he didn’t have any dog treats to placate the pocket-size beast. What kind of human food was suitable for canine consumption? Luckily, he knew who to ask for recommendations. He was leaning on his kitchen counter, exchanging texts with Dr. Juliet Burke, when there was a knock at his door. The puppy barked in earnest, which made Jack grin in spite of himself.

  “Yeah, you’re a very tough watchdog.” He crossed from the kitchen to the living room to answer the door. “No one would dare mess with you.”

  “Jack? It’s me, Riley.”

  He opened the door to find her dripping in the hallway. “You look soaked to the skin,” he said, ushering her inside. “Mrs. Tyler couldn’t postpone chatting with you until you were out of the rain?”

  Riley smirked. Despite being drenched, she seemed to be in a good mood. “She was more outraged than rational. See, someone dared me to run for president, and I think she considers it a hostile coup.”

  “So you really did throw your hat in the ring? Good for you.”

  “Yep, I’m running...assuming I don’t get evicted before the election.”

  His gaze went to her throat and he watched, mesmerized, as a drop of water made its way to the valley between her breasts. You’re staring. He should really say something, but it was tough to think of anything besides, “Wanna get out of those wet clothes?”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, you’ve got my vote.”

  “Thank you.” She met his gaze and for a moment, she went still. Could she read the lust in his expression?

  From behind him, the dog yipped, as if scolding him, and Jack stepped out of the way so Riley could get to the gym bag that was now actively wiggling on the counter.

  “Poor girl,” she cooed. “Let’s get you out of there.” The minute she tugged down the zipper, the puppy launched itself into Riley’s hands in a tail-wagging blur.

  Smart dog. Jack couldn’t fault the desire to get closer to Riley. “I was just about to feed her,” he said, trying to redirect his thoughts. “A lot of stuff people give dogs can actually be dangerous for them—pork, for instance—but I have some leftover chicken in the fridge that’s okay. No bones, of course.”

  Riley cocked her head at him as she pet the puppy in her arms. “You seem full of useful knowledge. Dog person?”

  “God, no!” He grimaced. “In fact, I...” Embarrassment cut off the rest of his automatic admission. He didn’t want Riley to think he was scared of the overgrown guinea pig she was cuddling.

  “Sorry.” She frowned. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help if I’d known you hated them.”

  “Not hate. But you remember when I said we all had our phobias? I have a tendency to be...uncomfortable around dogs. The only one I spent much time with as a kid was mean. I never felt safe turning my back on it.” Not that he’d ever felt particularly safe when any of Cyndi’s lovers were around, whether it was the ex with the dog or some other nameless guy in the sea of sneering, unshaven faces. His mother was a magnet for temperamental drunks. “Then, later, in the sixth grade—” What the hell was he doing, sharing his life story while Riley stood there soaking wet? He should give her the leftover chicken and send her on her way so she could change into dry clothes.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I was rambling.”

  “You have to finish the story.” Her eyes shone with both gentle humor and curiosity. “You can’t just leave me hanging, doomed to wonder forever what happened in the sixth grade.”

  After she’d confided in him in the elevator, maybe it was only fair he admitted to some of his own anxieties. “I stayed after school one day for art club, and when I left, it was already getting dark out. There was a black dog in the road, difficult to see, and a car clipped it. The driver sped away without stopping, so I ran to help it.”

  “You helped it even though you were already scared of dogs?”

  “Who admitted to being scared?” He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “I believe the word I used was uncomfortable. And I acted instinctively, not stopping to think it through. If I had taken a moment, I might’ve realized that when you rush an injured dog who doesn’t know you, you’re going to get bitten.”

  She winced sympathetically. “Was it bad?”

  “Not so bad that the art teacher couldn’t patch me up. He came to my rescue and then took the dog to a vet. I followed his example today and consulted a vet on what to feed fuzz-bucket. Juliet said bland chicken and rice were good choices.”

  “Juliet?” Riley lowered her gaze to the puppy. “Is she, um, your girlfriend?”

  Was that her way of asking if he was single? He grinned. “Hardly. Juliet’s married to one of my police buddies. I’m not seeing anyone.” Honesty prompted him to add, “Which is the way I prefer it. I broke up with someone not long ago, and I’m enjoying the drama-free life. I’m not...cut out for romance. Some of my happily married friends can’t seem to grasp that.”

  Rather than treat him like a commitment-phobe who “just needed to meet the right woman,” Riley nodded. “I keep telling my mom I’m not in a place where I want to be dating, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to fix me up. I think because I’m the oldest, she—” The puppy in her arms wriggled, drawing her attention. “This one needs a chance to run around. I should get her to my place, in case there are any chewing incidents or other mishaps. We’ve imposed on you enough.”

  “It wasn’t a hardship.” To prove his point, he ran his hand over the puppy’s head. “Does she have a name?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t know what it is. I found her at a crosswalk this afternoon. I figure I’ll go back with pictures and see if I can track down her owner.”

  “And if not?”

  “No idea. My sister and her husband occasionally debate whether they’re ready to be parents. Maybe they could start with a dog. Or...” She sighed wistfully.

  “You’d keep her in a heartbeat, wouldn’t you?”

  “I can’t. Therefore, naming her would be a mistake.”

  “Do you have anything to feed her? I can send that leftover chicken with you.” He smirked. “Pack a doggie bag, as it were. See—you’re not the only one who can make lame puns.”

  “I’d appreciate having something to feed her. I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. I don’t know what to do about a leash, either. Guess I’ll lay some newspaper down in my bathroom and let her run around while I take a shower.”

  First the cuddling, and now accompanying Riley to the shower? That was one lucky damn pooch.

  He swallowed. “Well, if you do decide to keep the fuzz-bucket—”

  “I can’t,” she repeated.

  And yet, he had a strong suspicion she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “Understood. But just in case...” He grabbed a piece of junk mail off the stack on the counter and wrote Juliet’s name and number on th
e back of the envelope. “Here’s Dr. Burke’s information. I think the veterinary clinic where she works is pretty close.”

  “Thanks. In the meantime, I trust that if you hear odd noises coming from my apartment, you won’t report me?”

  “Report you? I’m the one who smuggled in the contraband canine, remember?”

  “Thanks for being my partner in crime.” Her lips curved in a smile so joyously naughty that a bolt of heat went through him.

  If she hadn’t been holding the fuzz-bucket, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to stop himself from reaching for her. It was the only time in his life Jack had ever felt grateful to a dog.

  * * *

  RAIN WAS POUNDING on the windows, and Riley woke with her heart in her throat. She sat straight up in bed, knowing she’d heard a noise inside the apartment. Knowing that danger was close. Oh, God. He’s back.

  A remote corner of her mind recognized this was only a dream, yet that didn’t quell the fear. Dread crowded out logic. Panic told her to hide, even though the faceless man could find her anywhere in her apartment. He always did.

  So escape the apartment! If she ran as fast as she could, sprinted out of here, maybe she could break the cycle. Maybe she could find help. She was paralyzed, could barely move despite the instincts screaming at her, but she fought with every drop of willpower in her system. She swung her feet to the floor. As soon as her bare toes met the hardwood, she lurched forward, rushing blindly through her room, through an inexplicable maze of rooms, out her front door.

  Elation pumped through her. She wasn’t trapped. She wasn’t cornered and defenseless.

  Once she reached the safety of the hallway, she slammed her door shut, lightheaded with relief. If dreams were bound by logic, she should worry that any intruder in the apartment could easily catch up to her here in the hallway. But the fact that she’d been able to safely cross the threshold gave her confidence; the closed door wasn’t just a slab of wood, it was freedom, and she laughed out loud.