To the Studs

by Roxanne Smith

  She hoped Duke would be passed out so she could slip inside with the late hour of her return unnoticed. But as she came closer, she took note of the lights glowing from within. Smothering a groan, Neve went inside and nearly shrieked at the stranger sitting on Duke’s cot.

  Except…

  Except not a stranger. Duke.

  Neve approached him. He stank and his eyes were unfocused. “You’re drunk.” She glanced around the room and spotted the half-empty whiskey bottle next to the small steel sink. “You got drunk and shaved your beard clean off. I can’t believe it.” His long, grizzled beard gone, like it never existed. She stepped closer. “Are those…”

  No. Surely not. She inched closer, reached out with a timid forefinger and touched one. Goddamn dimples. “You’ve had dimples this whole time.”

  He stared at her with eyes that seemed to change from dark blue to black but offered no response.

  “Why did you do this?”

  His lips moved. Lips she could really see now, set on a wide jaw.

  She’d imagined how he’d look without his beard a thousand different ways, but always secretly suspected he’d been hiding a weak chin or an unsightly skin condition. But no. The bastard had been hiding dimples and Brad Pitt’s jaw the whole time. She regarded him with undisguised interest in his weakened state.

  She should kiss him now and get it out of her system. When he squealed in horror and backed away, it’d be the final peg in his rejection, and probably enough to cure her of her stupid crush.

  “You shouldn’t look at me like that.” His voice came out raspy and an octave deeper than usual.

  Her skin broke out in goose bumps. She stepped away, dropping her hand abruptly.

  His expression went from blank to despondent, almost beaten. His eyes were red-rimmed like he’d been fighting back tears. Then he spoke, saying all the things Neve had no desire to hear. But she didn’t stop him, either.

  “She left me for our widowed neighbor. My fault, really. Vale House took every minute of my day. I was never home. No kids. Just the dogs to keep her busy. She was alone all the time. And Jon, well, he’s a good guy. I’m not that drunk, actually. I poured out the first drink. But not the second or third.”

  “Or fourth or fifth,” she muttered.

  A grin ghosted over his mouth. His eyelids drooped. He sat back with the slow, tired motion of someone on the downswing of a hard buzz.

  She’d looked forward to going straight to bed, but she couldn’t leave Duke like this. “Come on, let’s get your boots off.” She crouched and began to untie his laces.

  “Neve, why are you the way you are? What did your parents do to make you like that?”

  She stiffened, then decided the question was a fair one. Not that she gave much credit to psychoanalysis. “Nothing, Duke. They did nothing. They were honest with each other, always, and honest with me. When I went to college, the number of liars I met astounded me. Girls who pretended they liked me when they didn’t. Boys who thought talking about the universe would make them seem smart and get them in my panties. There are no excuses for who I am, or what I choose to accept in this life. I choose not to accept liars. The rest is just my personality, and we all have to deal with it.” She allowed herself a wry grin. “Even me.”

  He didn’t reply but leaned over and helped her untie and remove the second boot. When he sat up again, he patted the spot next to him.

  Neve sat. Part of her was still spellbound by his clean-shaven face. She couldn’t help herself. She traced her fingers across his jaw. “Why’d you do this?”

  He started as though he’d forgotten, and rubbed his face with fervor when she drew her hand away. “Because I’m not getting her back. I quit shaving the day I left, but there’s no homecoming. Because Candice…” He came back with renewed energy seconds later. “Whatever your parents did, I’d like to hire them to raise my kids. If I have any.”

  Stunned, Neve stared at him as he blinked lazily at the far wall and spoke mostly to himself.

  “There’s something pretty fucking great about knowing where you stand with a woman. No guessing games, no undertones I can’t understand for the life of me. Neve Harper doesn’t tell a man she’s fine if she isn’t fine. No, not Neve. Neve spells out the problem in glowing letters before a guy has the chance to ask what’s wrong. It’s great. If Candice had been anything like that, we might still be married, you know it? No, really. She could’ve said something. But no, she suffered in silence. Slunk off with the neighbor. And then took everything that mattered to me.” A lengthy pause lapsed before Duke continued on his tangent. “That’s why I quit the job. Something in my personal life goes to hell every time I get involved in a project. I think I’m cursed.” He shocked her once again by sliding away from her then laying down until his head rested in her lap. “You have incredible legs. I have to pretend to tie my shoe for an excuse to stare at the ground when you wear that one skirt. You know the one? It’s green and looks like crushed velvet. It’s not fair to walk around with material a man is dying to touch wrapped across your ass.”

  Neve’s mouth fell open.

  Duke closed his eyes. “Oh, God, and that stupid fucking bra. The yellow one you made me fix. Just burn it, please. I can’t stand it. I have dreams about that damn bra. It kills me. You joked all the time about converting me, but you never even tried. I wouldn’t have lasted a second if you’d ever put any real effort into it, I swear. I’d have fallen on my knees and begged for it with the right word.”

  He kept talking, the words coming slower and less coherent as he rambled on.

  Neve didn’t interrupt. She stroked his shoulder and listened as nonsense bubbled up from his whiskey haze, and tried to reconcile the gibberish with the man she thought she knew.

  “Glass-topped stoves. The worst. Everyone hates those. Ban them. She liked it. I hate that stove. Fuck her. I’m gonna fight. Neve…I’m gonna fight. I’ll get her back. I’m gonna get her back…”

  Neve’s stomach tied itself into knots as Duke passed out in her lap. She should be used to the feeling by now. Still, it crushed her. Always did, when she knew a man liked what they saw, but hated what was underneath the wrapper. So, Duke was attracted to her. Big deal. Sex was easy, uncomplicated. Maybe it said more about him, that’d he have sex with a woman he didn’t even like, than it did about her—that she wouldn’t hesitate to give into a man who didn’t like her.

  * * * *

  Neve didn’t recognize the shiny black Ford when she pulled up, but the Georgia license plate gave away Candice’s arrival.

  Had to be something. The sixth week of renovation had passed without a single hitch. It’d gone so perfectly according to plan, Neve had taken a day to herself and gone into town for ice cream and a trip to Thrift House, where she’d met the tight-lipped Krandall Beels. She learned nothing more than what Duke had already told her. Now she’d returned only to find the day was about to get marginally more difficult.

  If the vehicle hadn’t given it away, the raised voices from within the trailer would have. Neve didn’t bother announcing herself or pretending Duke had any right to privacy in their shared living space. She opened the door, expecting to garner the immediate attention of Candice and Duke.

  Instead, she stepped inside and gasped.

  The biggest dog she’d ever seen sat on the sofa. Actually sat on the sofa, its front paws reaching easily to the floor. A Great Dane. The greatest Dane, by the look of her. Certainly female with her ten saggy teats drooping onto the sofa.

  Poor Darcy the Pit had her ears back and her tail tucked between her legs in supplication. Her tail thumped against the floor when she spotted Neve in the doorway, and she wriggled toward her master.

  Neve scratched her behind the ears and tutted. If anyone knew what a wimp you are, you’d wipe out the unfair reputation of your breed overnight. She cooed and instructed Darcy the Pit to lie down, which sent her scrambling toward Neve’s room at the rear of the t
railer.

  It left Neve facing the giant sitting pooch, a high-strung Duke, and an angry woman with a headful of frizzy red hair a gorgeous copper color Neve suspected was the real deal, not courtesy of a colorist. Her suspicions were confirmed by Candice’s finely plucked copper eyebrows over pale green eyes. Sea-foam green, were they a paint card.

  Candice Kennicot was a looker. Were Neve the envious type, she might be tempted to wish she had Candice’s full mouth, perky nose, or porcelain skin. Instead, she decided personality counted for a lot, and Candice’s screwed-up face did little to make her attractive.

  They both stared at Neve like she owed them an explanation for her presence. Which, naturally, pissed her off. “I live here, you know. Nice to meet you, Candice.”

  Candice’s features relaxed. “You’re Neve.”

  “I am.” She didn’t offer her hand, because she doubted Candice would uncross her arms to take it. Instead, she nodded toward the elephant in the room. “Could one of you explain the horse sitting on my sofa?” She didn’t wait for an answer to offer her hand to the dog for a good sniffing.

  Duke spoke up to introduce them at the same time the dog’s massive tongue unrolled from its maw to run across the back of Neve’s hand in canine acceptance. “This is Hannah. She’s a retired show dog.” He shot his wife an icy glare. “She’s recently retired from breeding as well.”

  Candice met his gaze squarely. “The hell she is, Duke. She’s eight and can safely breed until she’s ten.”

  “Look at her, Candice! She’s fucking exhausted, having fewer and fewer live pups with each litter. Hell, you’ve got three four-week-old pups at home. Instead of prepping them for show, how about you start grooming Hannah’s replacement?”

  The desperate anger in Duke’s outburst surprised Neve. She stared at him.

  I’m going to fight for her.

  He’d been talking about a damn dog all along. She almost laughed out loud.

  She rubbed Hannah’s muzzle and begrudgingly accepted her esteem for Duke as it rose beyond what she ever expected to feel for him. She liked him. He was easy on the eyes. He made her laugh. He took her attitude in stride most of the time, stood up for himself when it mattered. He was a hell of a designer, but now…well, now, he had Neve’s respect as a man. “So, you are divorced.”

  His wild eyes snapped to her. “What? Of course I am. I told you. Had I known Hannah would be taken advantage of to such degree, I would’ve never left without her.”

  Candice jabbed a finger toward him. “Bullshit, Duke. You’re sick of paying the vet bills. Admit it. You’re trying to get out of the alimony.”

  Neve looked from one to the other. “Seriously? Alimony payment? For a dog?”

  Duke sighed wearily as his anger seemed to leave him. He rubbed his forehead. “Hannah isn’t just some dog. Her lineage is unparalleled. Her papers go back further than any other Great Dane in the circuits these days, and she’s been winning dog shows since she was born. There’s money in it, but it also costs a fortune.” He pinned Candice with another hot stare. “We agreed to retire Hannah from showing after another year, which a judge decided I’d be financially responsible for since Candice was awarded custody.”

  “You’re serious?” Who’d ever heard of such a thing? “You had an actual custody hearing for Hannah?”

  Duke’s glare swung to her, lit with challenge. “You wouldn’t fight for Darcy?”

  She’d never thought about it. But, yeah. Hell yeah, she would. She’d go to insane lengths for Darcy the Pit. Impractical, insane lengths. Like a custody trial. She looked at Duke, and something warm and terrible spread through her…something more than respect.

  Duke pressed on, his anger growing again as he spoke. “Hannah’s worth money, but her pups are worth more. See, Candice got clever after the hearing. She retired Hannah from shows but has continued breeding her. I’m required to pay the showing costs of one pup per litter. I think you’ve milked it long enough, Candice. Hannah deserves to retire.”

  Neve chewed her lip and worked over Hannah’s great big ears. A tongue like a flank steak rolled out of her giant mouth.

  “She’s how old? Eight, you said?”

  Candice and Duke both eyed her.

  Candice spoke first. “This is a perfectly healthy dog. Do you have any clue what her pups are worth?”

  “Enough to pay vet bills,” Duke snapped. “And showing fees.”

  Candice flushed but kept her attention on Neve.

  Neve imagined what she’d do if this were Darcy the Pit. Hot anger flared, along with a sudden urge to flatten Candice. “Let me tell you what I think. I think Duke would gain from taking you back to court. Unless you get a judge who hates animals, they’ll side with him.”

  Candice’s jaw set. “Am I mistaken, or are you inadvertently saying I hate animals because I’m still breeding her?”

  Neve tilted her head and let her eyebrows come together in puzzlement. “It was hardly inadvertent. But you being a terrible dog owner isn’t the issue here. The issue is how you’re making twice the income the judge awarded you. You’re taking Duke’s alimony payments, but I’d wager you’re not showing Hannah’s pups. You’re selling them.”

  Candice’s deep flush matched her hair.

  Duke’s voice dropped to a confused murmur. “Not showing them? But their papers, their bloodline, it’s…wait.” His head snapped up. “Forget twice the income. You’re making thrice the income.”

  Neve nodded. “Basically, yeah. Your alimony for Hannah, plus the money for the cost of imaginary dog shows, and finally, her additional income from selling off the purebred Great Danes. Given the lineage you bragged about, I’d definitely make this a court issue.”

  Duke shook his head at Candice. “I should’ve known you’d find some new way to screw me over.”

  “I can’t afford the shows anymore, Duke. Jon’s life insurance policy from his wife’s death is spent, and he’s having a hard time finding work. And with Hannah getting older, the vet bills to keep her healthy enough to breed have grown. I need the money.”

  Neve let herself blend into the background and watched the proceedings like a tennis match.

  Duke’s steady gaze didn’t waver from his ex-wife. “You know, Candice, a long time ago, I would’ve died before I’d admit to anyone I missed my dog more than I missed you after you left me. Now, it makes perfect sense. You’re going to sign the papers. You’re going to give Hannah back to me, and then you’re going to leave. You’re going to do it, or I’m going to take you to court.”

  She studied him and chewed her lip. “So, what am I supposed to do for money? Married for five years, and what do I get out of it?”

  “No more than what you’ve already taken,” he growled. “You’re Jon’s problem. Not mine.”

  Neve patted the top of Hannah’s head and moved to stand beside Duke in a show of support. Then, she drove the final nail. “Don’t be so kind, Duke. Take her to court regardless. Not only will you be reimbursed financially, I bet you can get custody of the last litter as well. Judges are kind of like cops in that they hate being lied to. They especially hate when people find loopholes in their judgments.”

  Candice didn’t quiver or back down from Neve’s commanding stare. But she knew when she was beaten. She met Duke’s gaze with something like begrudging acceptance. “I’ll sign the papers, Duke. Under one condition.”

  Neve grinned and didn’t wait for Duke to ask. “You want to keep the last litter.”

  Candice looked at her. “You’re an insufferable person. Someone ought to tell you if you’ve never heard it.”

  “Not normally to my face. I appreciate it.”

  She ignored Neve and switched her attention back to Duke, whose face registered disbelief. “You’re right, Duke. I’m no concern of yours. No more than I was when we were actually married.”

  Duke squared his shoulders. “I guess there’s no better way to learn exactly where you stand
with a man than giving him an ultimatum. It doesn’t say much about you that I chose Vale House.”

  Candice glowered. Neve didn’t detect any hurt in her pale green eyes, but plenty of ire. “It says a great deal about you, though. I hope like hell you do her better than you did me.”

  It took Neve a second to realize Candice meant her.

  “She doesn’t strike me as the type to sit by idly while her man loves something more than he loves her, whether it’s a house or a damn dog. But then, I didn’t suspect such low self-respect from myself, either. You spent five years on Vale House. It took me four to figure it out.” Candice stalked toward the door and glanced back over her shoulder. “You keep Hannah. You’ll need her when another woman refuses to come second to your other passions. I didn’t bring the paperwork along. You’ll have to trust I’ll mail it.”

  In the silence that followed Candice’s exit, Duke’s gaze seemed to alight on every available spot in the room except Neve’s.

  And on the inside, she burned.

  Everything inside her was on fire. The good kind and the bad kind, twirling together in a miserable tango. Her heart tripped over itself in her chest as she thought back to every time Duke had suffered her company just to see Darcy the Pit. She thought of Duke last week, drunk and fighting back tears over a dog. A fucking dog.

  Nothing else in the world could have done it. Nothing else could have made her realize her feelings for him were deeper than she’d ever let on. She remembered meeting Austin for drinks after firing Ruby that day. She’d sat there, a young, handsome playmate at her side, but her mind on Duke. Every minute with him since had just been digging the hole deeper.

  Fury swept into the heady mix of emotions in her breast. He’d fired an arrow into her weak spot without even realizing it, and she’d be the one to pay for it.