by Codi Gary
He had been home on leave, just needing to blow off a little steam, but when he’d seen her, it was like something else had taken over—this uncontrollable need to hold her, feel her, and find out who she was. It was insane, he knew that now, but at the time, he’d had to kiss her, and when she’d melted into him, he had lost all rational thought.
Without even knowing her name, he’d helped her into his dad’s truck, and she’d slid right over next to him like she’d been there a hundred times before. When he’d put his arm around her, her slight form had felt . . . right.
“Do you always kiss strange girls you just met?”
Her tone had been teasing, and he’d glanced down at her as he backed the truck up.
“Not usually.”
“Hmmm.”
As he’d straightened the truck out, he’d asked, “You always hop into the trucks of strange guys?”
“Nope. My dad would kill me.”
“Who’s your dad?”
“Mayor Willis. I’m Valerie, by the way.” A small laugh escaped her, and she’d leaned her head back against his arm, the soft strands of her hair tickling his skin. The landscape around them passed like dark shadows as he drove along the back roads.
“So, what’s your story?” he’d asked. Justin had heard her name from her older sister, Caroline, who had gone with a friend of his, but he’d never met Val in person.
“Rebellious teenager looking for some action.”
He’d grinned. “Action, huh?”
The look she’d shot him under her lashes had been filled with promise. “Oh, yeah.” He felt her hand rest on his thigh and couldn’t stop his reaction. His heart had kicked up into high gear and his cock had stirred with interest.
Clearing his throat, he’d asked, “How old are you?”
“Sixteen, almost seventeen,” she said, her lips teasing the side of his neck. “What about your story?”
“I’m on leave from the Marines. Just passing the time until I ship out.” He moved his neck a little away from her mouth at the mention of her age.
Her lips left his skin. “Where are you headed?” Val asked.
“Afghanistan.”
He didn’t like to tell people because they always got that look in their eyes, that pitying stare, like he was already doomed. He glanced down, saw a similar gleam in her eyes, and grimaced. “I’m a mechanic, not infantry.”
“It’s still a war zone. Aren’t you scared?” she asked as her hand squeezed his thigh, like she was trying to comfort him.
“Well, yeah, but I could get killed driving on an icy road or just walking into a bank and being held up. There are a million ways to die.”
He’d been putting on a brave face, of course. He was terrified of being deployed, especially after the accounts his brother had given him of his own experiences. But he couldn’t stay here and play it safe either. He could have stayed and helped his dad, but he didn’t want to get stuck. And he wasn’t wrong; he could stay here and die in a scary situation at home. His mention of icy roads made him think of how his mother had died, how he would hate to be trapped somewhere, knowing he was dying but unable to escape.
“You’re right,” she said, breaking into his dark thoughts.
It was tense in the cab for several moments while he’d thought of something to say to ease out of the silence.
As he turned into a parking spot at the high school, he’d said, “Of course, if you wanted to wish me luck, you could always send me off with a special favor.”
“What kind of favor?” she’d asked. Justin had turned to look at her, raising his eyebrow.
“Play your cards right and I might send you off with a bang.”
He’d sucked in his breath and cut the engine. Clicking off his seat belt, he’d pulled her into his body and kissed her, his hard-on pressed against the zipper of his jeans as they’d made out. He’d had his hand on her side, creeping toward her breast, when one of his friends had banged on his window and let out a wolf howl.
They’d pulled apart and he’d flipped them off, ignoring their cackles as they walked away.
“Are we following them or . . .”
He thought about staying in the truck or, better yet, finding somewhere really secluded, but the word jailbait flashed through his brain. “Let’s go. Carl’s stupidity is legendary, and I’d hate for you to miss it.”
Her laugh had been husky and sexy as hell and had done nothing to help his arousal. Before he’d changed his mind, he’d jumped out, turning just in time to catch her as she came out of his side. Spinning her around in his arms, he’d kissed her again, that same sense of familiarity overwhelming him, like he’d known her forever.
Setting her down, he’d taken her hand, their palms warm and fitting naturally, as they’d walked toward the back of the school.
Justin was sucked back into the present when he almost missed the turn in to the radio station. As he climbed out of his truck and headed inside the square building, he pulled his wool cap lower over his ears. The wind whipped around him, making his face numb, and he could have sworn icicles formed on his lashes.
Opening the double doors, he hurried inside, thankful for the warmth of the front office. Behind the desk, a young kid with black-framed glasses, spiky hair, and a lip ring gave him a baleful look.
“Can I help you?”
The kid was obviously irritated, but Justin was more amused than anything else. He remembered being eighteen with a giant chip on his shoulder, but that had been before his drill sergeant had put him through the ringer. There was something to be said for learning a little respect.
“Yeah. I’m Justin Silverton. I won a couple of concert tickets.”
The kid reached across the desk, grabbed a large envelope, and handed it to him. “Here.”
“Thanks, man.” Justin opened it, a little surprised it was so thick for just two tickets. He frowned as he pulled out a packet and read the front page: Welcome to True Love, where your perfect match is waiting for you!
“Uh, you gave me the wrong package, bud,” Justin said as he slipped the papers back inside and tried to hand it back to Mr. Attitude.
“That’s the only thing here, bud.” Even the kid’s lip piercing seemed to sneer at him.
Justin tried to keep his cool but was close to exploding. “Let me talk to your manager.”
“Whatever.” The kid got up and walked out of the room muttering, “Fucking hick.”
Justin’s goodwill vanished. The little shit deserved to have his ass kicked.
A moment later, Callie Jacobsen walked through the door, her huge Anatolian shepherd beside her. Some of the farmers in the area had large dogs guarding their flock, but Callie’s dog, Killer, wasn’t guarding sheep; he guarded Callie. She took the big son of a bitch everywhere, and most people gave her a wide berth because of it.
“Hey, Justin. Liam says you have a problem with your prize?”
Liam. Figures he’d have a candy-ass name.
“The only issue I have is that it’s the wrong one. I won the Brad Paisley tickets.”
“Oh no!” Callie looked horrified before whirling on Liam. “Liam, you’re supposed to double-check the prizewinner’s name and driver’s license before you hand over the goods.” Justin was surprised by the volume of her voice. Aside from when she was on air, Callie was usually quiet as a mouse.
Liam the Sullen pushed up his black Buddy Holly glasses and snapped, “I guess I forgot.”
Justin saw Callie stiffen at his flippancy. “Get out. I’ll let your professor know this isn’t a good fit for you and he’ll find you another internship,” Callie said, pointing toward the door.
Liam’s pasty face turned maroon. “You can’t do that! The semester’s been in session for a month. If you drop me now, they won’t have another internship in my field.”
“That’s your fault, not mine. Since you got here, you’ve been rude and deliberately unpleasant, making it known to everyone that you despise country music and ever
yone who listens to it. As long as you did your job, I could ignore it, but you screwed up. Maybe next time you get an opportunity to learn something about your field, you’ll appreciate it more.”
Justin wanted to cheer her on, but the minute Liam’s stocky frame turned menacing, he tensed.
“You bitch, you can’t—”
Justin froze—along with Liam—as a deep, guttural warning emanated from Killer, the hackles of blond fur rising along his shoulders and back. The black lips of his muzzle pulled back, exposing inch-long white fangs that could easily rip someone’s throat out with little effort.
Liam backed up with a scowl until he was on the other side of the desk.
Callie reached down and touched the dog’s massive head, murmuring, “It’s okay.”
Killer stopped growling and sat. When Liam opened his mouth to say something else, Justin stepped in. “Get the hell out of here, kid, before you have more than the dog to worry about.”
As Liam hitched up his pants, grabbed his jacket, and ran out of the door, Justin turned to Callie, chuckling. “I can’t believe he lasted a month here.”
“Me neither.” Callie lost her smile as she held onto the envelope. “I am so sorry, Justin. I’ll try to call the other winner and let them know about the mistake, but I’m not sure how much luck I’ll have.”
“I don’t suppose you have any extra tickets floating around?” Justin knew the answer by the grim set of her mouth. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”
“Hold on while I try to call, okay?”
Justin waited, walking around the lobby as he listened to her leave a message, knowing his tickets were gone even as she tried to make things right. When she went to call again, he stopped her. “Don’t worry about it.”
She paused with the phone in her hand. “I’ll try their house number.”
“If they call back, just let me know.” He turned to leave, but she called out to him.
“Wait a second, okay? Here, take this.” She held out the packet, and he shook his head.
“I don’t need to be set up, thanks.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then take a vacation with the free hotel and relax. And then, as an apology”—she paused to walk into the back, coming out with two tickets in her hand—“here. I was hanging onto these, but I feel really bad about what happened.”
Justin looked at the tickets and grinned. “Craig Morgan, huh?”
“Please accept our humblest apologies.”
“Okay, but seriously, keep the singles thing,” Justin tried again, but she just shook her head.
“I’ve got to get back and relieve Mark, but you enjoy your vacation.”
As she disappeared, her dog lumbering after her, Justin stared down at the packet and tickets in his hand. Overall, it wasn’t such a bad deal. And he had been wanting to get the hell out of town for a while. Elko wasn’t far from True Love, Nevada. He could always find something to do there.
Maybe you can ask Valerie to go out of town with you.
A weekend trip wasn’t dating, right?
VALERIE WAS IN for the fight of her life.
She’d dressed quickly after her shower so she could open the Happy Pets Grooming Salon by ten, knowing one of her most difficult clients was coming in.
People raved about the sweet temperament of Ragdoll cats, but as she stared across the room at Mrs. Wilson’s cat, Sweet Pea, Valerie knew firsthand that rumors about breeds weren’t always true. Despite her chosen profession, she had a few ideas about designer breeds, the first being that a mutt was a mutt. And Ragdolls were nothing but Himalayan/Siamese crosses.
This one in particular had the personality of a rabid cougar.
Mrs. Wilson knew Val couldn’t groom him without a sedative, but when she’d opened his carrier, instead of being limp, he’d flown out like a hissing, spitting fuzzball of fury. She’d backed off, trying to give him time to calm down, and called Mrs. Wilson, who’d apologized about forgetting the sedative. But Val had a feeling she was lying. Especially when she asked Val if she could try it without. Mrs. Wilson hated drugging her cat and complained every time Valerie reminded her to do it. The only reason she took the cat at all was because Mrs. Wilson was an old friend of her mom’s; she felt bad, but this was it. No more psycho kitty.
Now that Val was back in the room after that frustrating phone call, Sweet Pea was perched on top of the wall of cages, his blue eyes evil slits of death and his fluffy tail swishing over the side.
“Sweet Pea,” she sang in a high, baby-talk voice, “come on down, honey, and I’ll have Mommy bring you back another day.”
He answered her with a low, winding growl that ended in a scream loud enough to burst her eardrums.
“Are you killing a cat in here?”
Val whirled around to find Justin standing in the open doorway. “Quick, close the door.”
Justin stepped inside and shut the door, his gaze shifting between her and the irate feline. “What did you do to it?” The gray beanie pulled over his ears and its little brim was cute resting just above those lovely amber eyes. It had been a little over twelve hours since she’d seen him, but with the kiss fresh in her mind, he was an unwelcome distraction in a dangerous situation.
“Nothing yet. His owner ‘forgot’ to give him his sedative, and when I opened his carrier, he escaped.”
“Huh. Pretty cat.” Justin walked around the grooming table, closer to the cages, and crooned, “Hey there.”
Val watched in amazement as the damn cat’s ears perked forward and he watched Justin with curiosity.
“Was this lady picking on you?”
“Excuse me?” Val cried. Sweet Pea’s ears flattened and he looked at her with a glare, as if to say, stop talking.
“It’s okay, buddy; you come down and I’ll make sure your mommy knows to give you some tuna.” Justin’s voice and focus remained on the cat as he lifted up his arms. The stupid creature relaxed and inched forward, hopping down into Justin’s arms with a small meow.
Val couldn’t believe it. She just stood there, dumbstruck, as Justin helped Sweet Pea back into his carrier and zipped the canvas bag without a fuss.
“There you go, buddy.” Justin picked up the carrier and gave Val a raised eyebrow. “What?”
“How the heck did you do that?” she asked as she took the bag from him and stuck it into a cage for good measure. “And more to the point, what are you doing here?”
“Most animals like me, but I’ve always had a way with cats.” She turned around in time to catch his shrug. “As to the other, I was in the neighborhood and wanted to check on your sister.”
“Oh,” Val said, disappointment settling in her stomach like a block of cement, bringing her down.
Why are you upset? He’s all wrong for you, remember?
“She’s fine. Hating life, but fine,” she said, wishing she could stop her confused feelings. It was like whenever she was near Justin, he chipped at her wall of self-preservation and threw her into chaos.
“That’s good.” He came around the grooming table until he stood in front of her, his hand reaching out to hers. “And you? Tired?”
Her heart jumped at the unexpected warmth of his palm, surprising since the high today was supposed to be around seventeen degrees and he wasn’t wearing gloves.
“No, I’m not tired,” she whispered.
“So listen, I have tickets to Craig Morgan, and I was thinking maybe you might want to go with me? It’s not for a few weeks, and before you say no, it’s not a date,” he said, the corners of his mouth kicking up. “I just need you to go with me so no one hits on me.”
“Why wouldn’t you want some hot girl batting her eyes at you?” she asked, leaning against the grooming table, curious to see where he was going with this.
“’Cause I’m holding out for someone else,” he said, linking his fingers through hers and squeezing her hand.
Now why did he have to go and say something like that? The air around them crackled, and she licked h
er lips, watching his eyes darken to the color of Jack Daniel’s.
“Well, hey there.”
Val sighed at the sound of her sister’s smug voice coming from the doorway and pulled her hand from Justin’s. She gave her sister a strained smile when she saw her curious expression.
“Hey, Ellie, you remember Justin? He brought you home last night.”
Val groaned inwardly when Ellie gave Justin her bedroom eyes. “Oh, my hero, huh?” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she didn’t even look at Val as she said, “I was just coming down to let you know Dad called. Again.”
“Thanks. I’ll call him later,” Val said, gritting her teeth at her sister’s obvious interest in Justin. With her morning raccoon eyes gone, Ellie looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion mag, and Val almost reached up to check for lumps in her own high ponytail.
But Justin only gave Ellie a polite smile and said, “I’m glad you’re feeling better. It sounded like you were going to be sick for a while when I left, but it looks like you’ll recover.”
Val covered her mouth to smother a laugh as her sister gasped. Ellie obviously didn’t like that he might have heard her puking her guts out.
Justin caught her gaze, his eyes filled with humor. The fact that he’d obviously known what her sister was up to yet hadn’t played into it made Val’s walls crumble a little more.
“I should let you get back to work, but I wanted to give you my number.” He handed her a white card with his name and number scrawled on the back, and Val took it, sticking it in her pocket. “Just in case you ever have kitty problems again.”
“Thank you,” she said, laughing.
“No problem.” Justin shoved his hands in his pockets. “And you can get back to me on the whole concert thing.”
“I will,” she said, ignoring her sister’s wide-eyed curiosity.
“Good.” He nodded at her, gave her sister a polite good-bye, and turned to leave. Ellie hardly moved to let him pass, but he just shouldered by.
Val was so irritated with her, she wanted to grab her sister’s long brown hair and give it a tug or two. “God, do you have to be so obvious?”
