by Codi Gary
The trio giggled, and he turned to watch them walk away, their butts looking mighty fine in their tight Wranglers. Another thing he’d missed about Texas was the women; no other place in the world raised ’em like Texas did.
Turning around again, he heard the faint sound of a bell right before crashing into someone exiting Crazy Al’s Food and Drug. Catching himself, he grabbed ahold of soft shoulders under a bulky sweater and looked down into wide gray-green eyes behind a pair of silver-framed glasses. The eyes were so familiar; it was as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs.
“Deana Sawyer?” He’d always thought she would go off to college and leave this town in her rearview. What was she doing there?
She looked stunned, her mouth hanging open in her heart-shaped face. With creamy skin and a touch of pink in her cheeks, Deana had always been a cute little thing. Even if she was accident prone.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Damn, he sounded casual. Nothing like their last actual conversation, where he’d behaved like a total dick. He might have been just a stupid kid, but he’d known acting like that was bullshit.
Whatever shocked spell she’d been under, she snapped out it of abruptly and jerked away from him to pick up whatever she’d dropped.
“I’m fine,” she said, grabbing hold of one of the boxes.
And apparently still holding a grudge.
Stooping, he picked up the other box she’d dropped, and his eyebrows rose. He handed her the condoms, fighting back a smile. “Here.”
Even with her head down, he still caught the telltale blush creeping up her neck. “Thank you.”
Finn remembered how sweet it used to be to watch Deana turn rosy and stammer whenever he’d teased her. That had been before their kiss. Before he’d listened to that asshole, Branson Alexander, about how dating Deana would be a bad idea and made a jackass out of himself.
“So hey, maybe you might want to get a drink sometime? Catch up on what you’re up to?” Finn asked.
Her gaze flew up to meet his as she stood, and her mouth twisted into a frown. “No, thank you.”
Spinning on her heel, she walked away from him, leaving him wondering what had possessed him to ask her out in the first place. It wasn’t as if she’d been haunting his thoughts the last eight years.
She does have a nice little frame, though.
* * *
Deana stared at her reflection in her bedroom mirror, cursing at the violent shade of pink her normally dull, ash-blonde hair had turned. She picked up the box of Radiant Red hair dye and read the directions again, staring at the before-and-after pictures in simmering rage.
Cheap, lying, chemical crap! Throwing the box across the room, she tried to breathe normally, counting to ten. She thought she’d finally beaten her bad luck. She’d managed to score a great job teaching English at the high school, drop the fifteen pounds she’d been struggling with all summer, and she’d even noticed Grant Parsons checking her out. All she needed was the right eye-catching look to finally take hold of her new and improved life and leave Disaster Deana far behind.
Now here she was at five thirty on Halloween night, expecting to unveil flaming red hair and her hot Little Red Riding Hood costume, but no. No, her hair was strawberry-shortcake pink, and her costume still hadn’t arrived by UPS.
As if her anger alone had summoned it, she heard a knock on the door. Covering her hair with a towel, she ran out to answer.
The tall man on the other side of the screen looked at her newly painted red toenails and raked his gaze upward. Even though he was not at all what she was looking for, the glow of appreciation in his eyes made her feel a little better.
“I have a package for you, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She opened the screen door and stepped out to sign for it. “How are you doing?”
Suddenly, she felt a tug on her head, and the towel was gone. She watched as his eyes widened and a coughing fit overcame him as he tried hard to smother his laughter.
Angrily, she signed his electronic pad and shoved it at him harder than she meant to. Yanking the package from his other hand, she slammed the door on his hooting laughter.
“Jackass,” she muttered, holding the brown box close to her chest. She should be used to people laughing at her, but it still stung. No matter how old she got or how many times it happened, her mind would drift back to that day in the library.
No. You are not going to dwell on that today. It doesn’t matter that he’s here in town. Nothing matters but tonight.
It sucked a big one, though, that Finn Meyers was still a major piece of eye candy. Like seriously dark-chocolate-truffle-with-milk-chocolate-filling-that-melts-in-your-mouth-until-you-just-have-to-moan-out-loud eye candy.
No. No. She was not going to be distracted by a jerk in sexy clothing. No matter how darkly scrumptious his eyes were, or how his drawl did very bad things to her nethers. Like quivery, quickening bad things that had no business happening just because Finn Meyers had strutted in with his bone-melting smile and wide shoulders, with those firm, cut arms that filled out a T-shirt so nicely.
Shaking herself and checking for drool, she carried her brown box into the bedroom, forgetting about her hair and Finn for just a moment as she opened it up and pulled out the plastic bag. She ripped it open, then reached in to grab the costume. Holding it up, she grinned and gave an excited squeal as she admired the red-checkered dress with a square neckline, a short skirt with layers of white tulle beneath, and a short red cape.
After tossing the dress onto her bed, she stripped out of her button-down shirt and jeans, happily anticipating how it would look. Once she was standing in her bra and panties, she loosened the corset laces on the dress and dragged it over her head.
The dress got stuck on her boobs, which really weren’t that big, and she frowned as she twisted and yanked the fabric down. The waist was tight around her middle, even with the loose laces, and the skirt fluffed out just below her butt, indecently short and breezy. Grabbing the tag hanging from her side, she screeched.
“Small!”
She’d ordered a medium, she was sure of it. She went to her laptop and opened it frantically. Once she’d double-checked her order receipt, which had a medium listed, she called the costume company. As she waited on hold, angrily pacing her living room, her sleek black cat, Salem, watched her with yellow eyes and a twitching tail.
When the operator picked up, Deana tried to speak calmly.
“Hello, my name is Deana Sawyer and I ordered a costume from you, but you sent me the wrong size.”
“Oh, I am terribly sorry about that, ma’am. Can I have your order number?”
Deana listed it, and the line was silent besides the hum of conversations in the background of the phone call. Apparently, the costume company’s call center was busy today.
“Let’s see, I have you down for a medium Sexy Red Riding Hood, is that right?”
“Yes, but you sent me a small, and it barely covers my rear,” Deana said.
“Oh dear. Well, I can, of course, send you a label for you to return it for a refund—”
“But what am I supposed to do for a costume tonight?” Deana tried to lower her voice, but it had risen several octaves as she pictured the perfect night she’d imagined slipping away.
“I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am, and I do apologize for the mix-up. Do you want me to send you a return label via email?”
“No, that’s fine. Thank you.”
“You are welcome, ma’am. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”
Deana told her no and ended the call with a groan, then threw the phone on the couch. She straightened the dress and went to check and see if it could be salvaged for the night.
The dress was tight, low-cut, and showed a lot of leg. Definitely not something she’d ever worn before, but maybe that was a good thing. Cocking her head to the side, she reassessed the situation. So her hair was a little brighter than she’d wanted. It was eye-catching, an
d she could always say it was part of her costume. The dress definitely screamed, “Hello, men, I’m available.”
No, this was not a look for Disaster Deana. When she went walking into the Halloween Haunt Fest, people were going to sit up and take notice. And later, when she attended the big Halloween bash at the Watering Hole, she was going home with someone. Anyone.
Well, anyone but Finn Meyers.
Chapter Two
Finn hated Halloween.
The costumes, the pranks, the crappy movies… Everything about the holiday pissed him off. Why he’d agreed to start his first shift on the Loco Police Department on Halloween, he had no idea. He had spent five years in Atlanta, and he’d seen some of the worst crime, shit that still haunted him. Which was why a holiday that glorified people dressing up as evil monsters made him sick. There were too many real monsters out there; he just didn’t understand celebrating the fake ones.
He came around the bend four miles from town and saw a white car on the side of the road, smoke pouring out around it. The trees that lined the road into town gave a spooky, shadowy scene. A lone figure stood off to the side, kicking and stomping like a three-year-old having a tantrum. As he pulled up behind the car, his headlights illuminated a woman in a skimpy Little Red Riding Hood costume, with bright pink hair. He tried not to laugh as he saw her turn toward him, shielding her face from his headlights.
After turning his cruiser off, he stepped out of the car. “Miss, are you all right?”
She squinted at him in the light, her red mouth turned down in a frown. “No, I’m not all right! Does it look like I’m all right?”
Finn’s eyebrow rose at her hostility, even as a niggling familiarity ate at him. “Can I call you a tow or something?”
“No, thank you, I already called. Bubba can’t come get it tonight because he’s already hammered, and I’m supposed to be at the haunted house in fifteen minutes. I just can’t believe this is happening to me tonight of all nights! First, my hair, then the costume, and now this! I swear it’s like some greater force is mocking me.” She stepped out of the high beams, so she wasn’t covered in shadows anymore. “I mean, do you know what it’s like to be called Disaster Deana and have people cross the street when they see you because they’re afraid some horrible mishap will befall them if they stand too close?”
Finn’s jaw dropped as he looked her over again. “Deana? Is that you?”
She stopped her rant, and her face turned sheet white in the dark. “Who are you? I can’t see you with the light in my eyes.”
Finn put down his flashlight. “It’s Finn Meyers. We just bumped into each other earlier—”
“Fan-fucking-tastic. Of course it’s you.” Her tone was angry and bitter, a far cry from the sweet, fun girl he remembered. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were living in Georgia with your perfect girlfriend and kicking the crap out of criminals? And now you’re a cop here? Awesome. My night cannot get any worse, unless some great, hulking beast decides to step out of the trees and eat me.” He watched her twirl around with her hands out, yelling, “Come on, beasties! Suppertime!”
He took a few steps closer, and she stopped. Her chin rose defiantly, her eyes flashing in the high beams, and he couldn’t fight his grin at the sight she made. Her hair was a riot of hot-pink curls, her lips were wetly red and full, and her breasts rose so high above the square neckline of the dress, he thought they would pop out at any moment. She definitely wasn’t the plain-jeans-and-T-shirt girl he remembered.
“You sure have changed, De.” Without thinking, he reached out to finger one of her curls.
She jerked away from him. “Of course I’ve changed. People are always changing. It’s not like you’re the same arrogant, thoughtless jerk you used to be, right?”
Shame, guilt, and anger brewed inside him, and he dropped his hand. “I guess you’re still pissed at me about high school.”
“No, of course not. That would be ridiculous and petty. I was just stating a fact. You most likely aren’t the same jackass you used to be, and I’m not the same naïve simpleton.” And with that, she spun on her heel and headed back toward the smoking car.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he called after her, nearly swallowing his tongue when she opened the passenger door and bent over, her garter belt and half her black-lace-covered ass showing as she rummaged through her car.
Standing back up, she slipped her purse over her shoulder and slammed the door. “I am walking to town.”
The stubborn, irrational woman actually started doing just that, looking a little wobbly in her high heels. “Wait. Why don’t I give you a ride?”
She didn’t even bother to turn around and answer him, just tossed over her shoulder, “Because I’d rather be gutted by a machete-wielding maniac than ride in a car with you!”
Finn watched her fluffy skirt sashaying away from him, and tried to ignore the tightening in his pants. Whoever she was now, there was no resemblance between her and the sweet, bookish Deana he’d fallen for in high school.
Damn. He’d really liked Deana, with her soft blond hair that always fell forward as she read, and her expressive gray-green eyes that seemed to be constantly smiling. He had been an inconsiderate ass when he’d kissed her and then told her he couldn’t date her because she wasn’t popular enough. He’d been a punk kid, and he’d regretted it, but every time he’d tried to talk to her afterward, she’d ignored him. When he’d left for college, he hadn’t had time to think about her, his life had been so crazy.
One thing was for sure, though: He was no longer the eighteen-year-old kid just trying to survive his senior year. He was a grown-ass man who had changed and matured, and Deana Sawyer was going to see that. Even if he had to follow alongside her all the way into town to prove it to her.
* * *
Deana tried to ignore Finn and the car, but it was hard when she couldn’t stop thinking about how well he filled out his blue uniform. No matter how majorly jerk-tastic the guy was, he definitely had been eating his Wheaties. He was so hot it made her fingers twitch, wishing she could rip open his shirt and get her hands on all that no doubt muscly goodness underneath.
Despite how sexy he was, though, it didn’t change the fact that he was an inconsiderate asshat.
He’s following beside you. He offered you a ride. Doesn’t seem too asshatty to me.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to squelch the bitterness inside her. When had she become this constantly angry woman who snapped and snarled at everyone? The issues in her life really had nothing to do with the people around her. It just seemed like everything wrong in her life had been growing and weighing on her mind. Her lack of serious dating prospects was a major problem, but it was no excuse for her bad attitude. Even with the worst luck in the world, she had to concentrate on the good things in her life.
She had her health and a job with insurance. She owned her own house and had a fantastic family, even if her younger sister was a bit of a brat. She had Salem, who loved her unconditionally, and she’d been thinking of getting another cat. Her students respected her.
“Come on, you can’t walk to town in those heels. You’ll have blisters the size of a rattler’s head.”
Ugh, there he is again, just when I was about to gain perspective.
Without stopping, she said, “They’re really comfortable. I could walk to New York and not have a twinge.”
Actually, her feet were already starting to ache, but she didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of rescuing her. Yes, she was being nine kinds of stubborn, but she had her pride.
Or she had, right before her heel hit a dip in the road, and, off balance, she plummeted forward to the hard cement, landing on her palms and knees. An electric shock of pain made her cry out as it jolted up her arms and left her knee throbbing.
The sound of Finn’s car door opening and slamming shut made her groan. The heavy footfalls of his boots on the pavement resembled the beat of a drum as he approached,
and she wanted to tell him not to help, but her throat was clogged with tears of discomfort.
His large hands gripped her biceps as he leaned over and hauled her to her feet as if she weighed nothing. As he turned her to face him, he released her arms to take her hands with one of his and turned on his flashlight once more with the other.
“Are you all right?” The beam shone down on her hands, and hissing through his teeth, he released her. “I have a first aid kit in my car.”
“I’m fine.” She tried to choke back the humiliated sobs as she lied, but she knew he could tell she was on the verge of crying pathetically.
Without warning, he jerked her to him until she felt everything he had to offer along the length of her body, and she couldn’t stop her gaze from rising to meet his.
“If you don’t get your ass onto the back of my car and be still, I’m going to put you in handcuffs. Got it?”
His tone and threat made her whole body shiver, but she wasn’t about to let him bully her. “You can’t arrest me. I haven’t done anything.”
“Maybe not.” Dropping his head, he said, “But we’re all alone out here, so for argument’s sake, why don’t you do what I ask? Unless maybe you want me to use the cuffs on you?”
The scene that flashed through her head was so erotic, a cold sweat broke out all over her body. Him slapping the cuffs on her, bending her over the car to frisk her. His hands traveling under her skirt and touching her, slipping along her panty line.
Squeezing her legs together and ignoring the undeniable throb between them, she snapped, “Fine, let’s get this over with before I’m really late.”
* * *
Finn was actually surprised Deana had agreed to let him look at her palms and knees, considering he really didn’t have a leg to stand on. He was also disappointed. Deana cuffed and spitting fire was something he would have liked to see. Her whole attitude toward him rankled, and he badly wanted to scrape away her hostile exterior and find the girl who had charmed him so well in high school.
