The Devil Wears Tank Tops

by Destiny Ford

  “I had to,” I explained. “They would have hurt John and Kory without me.”

  Hawke’s expression softened and he kissed me, a hard press of his lips against mine. It lasted less than five seconds, but it was exactly what I needed at the moment. “Part of me loves that about you, and part of me hates it. Kitty Kate.”

  “Could you forget about the part that hates it right now. I don’t think I can handle an argument.”

  He nodded, shut off the machine, and went to untie Kory and John.

  “The two guys who got away were helping the Brigham Smith group. They murdered at least six people, and made it look like the crimes were connected to a drug ring.”

  Hawke looked over at me. “They didn’t get away. My guys have them out front. The police should be here any minute too.”

  I sank back down in the chair, exhausted from the ordeal, and relieved to be alive. I was sure my mind would change—soon—but right now, I never wanted to see a grain of sugar again.

  “I’m really glad you decided to do this,” Michelle said, watching me play with my little ball of fur. I threw a tiny tennis ball that was a perfect fit for Gandalf’s little mouth. His tongue lolled to the side as he brought it back to me and waited for me to throw it again.

  “Me too,” I said, standing up. I’d just finished signing the adoption paperwork. I was still reticent, especially considering everything that had happened to me recently. I didn’t want to put an animal in danger. At the same time though, I wanted Gandalf to have a home where he was happy and loved.

  I might have a crazy life sometimes, but I could offer Gandalf a family. The thought of having a companion made me happy, and let’s be honest, I’d fallen in love with the little guy the moment he’d rolled over and demanded a tummy rub in the booth at the fair. When I’d started recording The Dog Whisperer for training tips a week ago, I knew I’d pretty much made my choice. Training would start tomorrow.

  Michelle handed me a carrying crate, and a box of Gandalf’s toys, food, and some treats. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said as I put Gandalf in the carrier.

  “I will,” I said, and walked out to my Jeep with my new little buddy.

  I stopped by my mom and dad’s house on the way home from the shelter so they’d have a chance to meet their grandpuppy.

  My dad opened the door when I arrived, and my mom greeted me and Gandalf with a lot of unintelligible screeches. I did catch the word “adorable” and laughed when she kissed the top of his head. Repeatedly. She’d known him less than five minutes and I was pretty sure she already loved him more than me.

  She kept muttering as she held him and talked in a high, excited voice that sounded a lot like she’d talk to a baby.

  “—and we’ll get you clothes, and paint your nails, and oh my gosh! Halloween is coming up!” She spared a glance for me. “We have to plan a costume! I think he’d make a perfect little ballerina.”

  Okay, maybe she didn’t love him more than me. And I had a feeling he wouldn’t be too pleased about any costume, let alone a tutu.

  My dad shook his head. “You’ve done it now. She thinks this is a grandkid.” My dad had gotten down on the floor with them both and was playing tug-of-war with Gandalf and a braided rope. He laughed when Gandalf pulled it out of his grasp and growled, running down the hall. He came back after a few seconds, wondering why no one had chased him. My dad got up and ran after him, and then I heard the back door open. Gandalf would have fun playing on their grass.

  I smiled, happy that my parents loved my dog as much as I did.

  It was only after the initial puppy-reveal excitement that I noticed a new addition to my mom’s prized fair ribbons. She’d gotten the grand prize cookie ribbon. I narrowed my eyes. “Mom,” I said, my tone suspicious, “where did you get this?”

  I wasn’t one to place blame, but I didn’t put it past her to steal the thing.

  She glared at me. “I didn’t steal it.”

  I lifted a brow.

  She folded her arms across her chest, defiant. “I didn’t!” She got up from the floor and sat on the couch. “After the story came out about the pot cookies, I petitioned the fair board. My cookies had the next highest score, so I won—like I should have won in the first place.”

  Whew. I thought she might have resorted to threats and thievery. “Well, I’m glad you won, and that you got the ribbon without committing a crime.”

  Her nose wrinkled up. “Well, I almost committed one, but I stopped.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap like she was trying to decide if she should tell me or not.

  “Mom,” I said with a warning in my voice.

  “Oh, fooey! Fine. I’ll tell you. I heard that putting Visine in food could make people really sick. I sent the petition to the fair board, but I was still so mad after I found out about the pot cookies that I made some Visine cupcakes. I was going to deliver them to all of the judges, but then I decided it was too mean, and I shouldn’t do it. It was a good thing, too, because I got the call about my cookies winning the day after your story came out. See,” she said, a big smile on her face. “Everything works out.”

  I had a feeling her sudden bout of guilty conscious had more to do with the realization that people would think the judges had gotten sick from her baked goods, and her reputation as cooking queen would suffer for it.

  “I hear Kory Greer issued an apology for the pot cookies,” she said.

  I nodded. “He did. Even though he didn’t really do anything wrong. The ingredients for the cookies were delivered to his company, and he just made and distributed them. He had no idea what was in them. He vowed to help John educate the public about the difference between hemp oil and marijuana with high THC levels.”

  “That’s so nice of him!” my mom said. “I’m glad something good came from it all.”

  “Me too.”

  “Hawke sure is handy to have around.” She pursed her lips and shook her head, worried. “I don’t even like to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t been there.”

  Neither did I. I wouldn’t have seen Jax Teller’s last ride, that’s for sure. “Me either.” Issac Handler hadn’t died, but he’d been close. He’d be around to go to trial, but he’d accepted all responsibility for the pot cookies. Which meant the Brigham Smith Group still existed, and their reach was far.

  The room fell into silence for a minute as my mind wandered. Though I greatly appreciated Hawke and his ability to keep me alive, his comfort with killing had unsettled me. I felt like there was still a lot I didn’t know about Hawke, and I wasn’t sure when he’d be ready to tell me more. After he’d made sure I was okay, he’d had to stay at the scene to give statements to the police. Almost killing a man was apparently something that required a lot of paperwork. I hadn’t seen him since that night, though he did send me a text to tell me he was thinking of me.

  I texted him back a picture of Gandalf. He thought it was adorable, so he got points for that.

  My dad came running back in from outside and my mom petted Gandalf as he ran over and jumped against her legs like they were playing tag.

  “Oh!” my mom exclaimed. “I need to make him doggie treats!” she stood and started for the kitchen, Gandalf trailing behind. “I’m going to look up recipes right now!”

  At least Gandalf wouldn’t go hungry. I hoped the treats were also edible for humans so we could both eat.

  A knock sounded on the front door and Gandalf gave a little yelp. He’d kindly marked my living room floor as soon as he walked in the house, letting me know he approved of his new home. And he’d done it all with a smile. He was already house trained, so I was sure this was an isolated incident to let any stray animals or bugs know the territory was his.

  Gandalf and I both walked across the bright blue rug to the front door. I smiled when I opened it. “Hi, Drake,” I said, inviting him in. I left the front door open to get the be
nefit of the nice, evening fall breeze.

  He smiled back. “Hi.” Gandalf spun in excitement at the new person in our space. Drake leaned down. “Who’s this?”

  “It’s my new dog. Gandalf.”

  Drake looked up at me and grinned. “I like the name.”

  I shrugged. “He looks like a wizard.”

  “He definitely does,” Drake said, scratching Gandalf under the chin. “It makes me feel good to know you have a guard dog, and even better to know he might have magic powers.”

  I gave him a strange look. “I’m not sure he qualifies as a guard dog. He won’t even be ten pounds full grown.”

  “He can bark and notify you of intruders. That qualifies.”

  Drake had called me last night as soon as he’d heard about what happened. He was in Salt Lake, but insisted on coming back to check on me. I told him I’d be busy writing the story and wouldn’t get to see him anyway. He’d agreed to wait until today to come back to Branson, but he’d sent me a giant bouquet of flowers and some doughnuts from Frosted Paradise. So my swearing off of sugar had lasted about twelve hours. I wasn’t going to lie. I ate them all. I deserved it.

  Drake pulled something from behind his back. “I brought you a present.”

  I noticed the bag. Saints and Sinners Cookies. “Please don’t tell me that’s what I think it is?”

  “Last time they made you pretty excited,” he said, lifting his brows.

  I narrowed my eyes. “You weren’t supposed to remember that.”

  His lips lifted. “They’re not really cookies. Look inside.”

  I opened it and excited surprise crossed my face. “You brought my favorite chocolate covered espresso beans from my favorite coffee house in Salt Lake!” I pulled out another bag. “And coffee! Thank you!” I threw my arms around him in a hug. Then I felt awkward because I’d never really hugged Drake before. He hadn’t even been on my potential hug list until recently. I stepped back, and he seemed rather pleased with himself.

  “I’m glad it made you happy.”

  I looked at the coffee. “You made me happy, and I hope no one saw you buy this. You’ll be in so much trouble if someone snapped a photo of Dylan Drake buying coffee beans.”

  “I’d do anything to make you smile, Katie.” His voice lowered, the tone more serious than before.

  My eyes softened as I looked at him. This wasn’t just something Drake was saying to be charming. He really cared about me, and that meant a lot. “I’m corrupting you.”

  One corner of his lips hitched. “That sounds promising.”

  I blushed.

  “So,” Drake said, sitting on the couch, “since I braved the gossips and bought you coffee, can we talk about when you have time for another date?”

  I took a deep breath. I’d had some time to think about the date with Drake, and about my feelings for him. They were progressing, and I realized that probably wasn’t a good thing. I sat next to him and Gandalf jumped up on my lap, then immediately defected and moved to Drake’s.

  Because Drake cared about me, and he, and his gestures, meant a lot to me, I had to stop this now before either of us got hurt. Though, I thought I might be too far gone for that outcome myself.

  My lashes lifted and I met his eyes. “Where do you think this is going to go, Drake?”

  Wrinkles formed on his forehead. “Wherever you’ll let it.”

  I shook my head. “It will never work between us. You have to know that.”

  A vein in his neck started throbbing and he didn’t look pleased. “Why?” he asked, his voice clipped.

  I took a deep breath and placed my hands palms down on my thighs, resigned. “Because I’ll never be a member of the Mormon Church again.” I’d given this a lot of thought, and saw no real way around it. “There’s a lot of compromise that happens in relationships, but you can’t ask me to change my beliefs. I’ve been a reporter for four years. I’ve covered politicians and I know how this works. Your wife, or even your girlfriend at this point, could make or break your career. It’s even more of an issue in a conservative, religious state like this. Your job depends on you having a significant other who’s willing to stand silently by and let you take the lead in every aspect of your life. I haven’t been silent since I was in the womb.”

  He massaged Gandalf’s back and looked at the floor for several minutes, like he was doing some serious contemplation. I knew how he felt. I’d been thinking about it ever since our date. A sour feeling started creeping its way through my stomach. I didn’t want to end things, but I didn’t see a way around it. I wrapped my arms around myself and studied the light flecks of azure on my blue rug.

  Drake’s voice made me look up. “I’ve already thought about that, Katie.”

  I nodded, understanding. No matter how I’d felt about Drake in the past, the things I’d learned about him in the last few weeks, and the way he’d made me feel, had made me respect him. I was starting to care about him far more than I should.

  I knew it couldn’t work, and I needed to protect myself, my heart—and Drake. A relationship with him would always be a battle because I didn’t fit the mold. Being together would make both of our lives harder, and that’s not how a relationship should work. I’d reconciled myself that dating—or anything else— wasn’t in the cards with Drake. Hopefully he’d seen it too.

  Drake picked Gandalf up and put him down on the rug, then turned toward me and lightly lifted my chin with his fingers. He met my eyes with a determined gaze. “I’ve thought about it, and I don’t give a shit what people think.”

  My eyes widened as I stared at him. I’d been expecting him to agree with me, and us to end whatever it was we’d started. That wasn’t what I got. My stomach started to flutter with nervous anticipation as he continued, “I love that you’re independent, and not afraid to speak your mind. I would never change that about you. It’s what made me fall for you years ago, and I’ve just kept falling since.” He pursed his lips, then continued, “I want you, Katie. I want you, and not what you, or anyone else thinks you need to be. And I could care less about your religion. People can go to hell if they think I’d lose you for something as ridiculous as that.”

  He took my face in his hands and bent down. “I was a lawyer before I was a politician. I could easily be a lawyer again. I’m not giving up on you, or us. Not now. Not ever.”

  His lips met mine, soft, like they’d been waiting years for this. We both had. His smooth tongue traced mine as my mouth opened, and the kiss deepened. His hands moved over my back in a strong embrace, hugging me close to him. It was the kiss I’d dreamed about since I’d watched him on the dance floor as a teenager. The kiss I thought I’d never have. And in that moment, it felt like everything I’d ever need. He pulled back to study me, and I fell against the arm of the couch, licking my kiss swollen lips.

  I looked at him, strong, sexy, and willing to risk everything for me. The kiss had done nothing to dim my attraction to him. It had just made the problem a thousand times worse. “We need to talk about this,” I said, gasping for breath and trying to clear my foggy head. One of us needed to be rational.

  I wasn’t sure it could be me.

  He gave a slow smile that was full of innuendo. “We’ll have time for that later.”

  He stood up, walked to the front of the living room, and shut the door before turning back to me. “Now, where were we?”

  Once again, HUGE thanks to my incredible production team! My extremely talented cover designer, Kat Tallon at Ink and Circuit Designs. My fantastic editor, Ashley Argyle, PhD at Inktip Editing. And my amazing formatter, Ali Cross, at Novel Ninjutsu.

  For my family and friends who put up with my crazy schedule, and still find time for me—even if it’s in the middle of the night. I couldn’t do this without you.

  Massive thank you to Ashley, who insisted this book was funnier than I thought it was, and kept me writing. Honestly, none of my books would get written without her pep talks and reassurance.

&nb
sp; To my mom, for making Sophie Saxee the easiest character in the world to channel and write. The Kate Saxee books wouldn’t be possible without my mom and her adventures. After reading this book, she texted me, incensed about Sophie’s clothing choices with the following: “When have I EVER worn a PINK checkered skirt?!?” She didn’t say anything about the mouse-tie outfit, however, which she did actually wear—and dubbed one of her greatest creations.

  Being an author means having insane work hours, talking to people who live in my head, and stopping mid-conversation to write down ideas. One of the most important things an author needs is a supportive partner. I’m so lucky I found that person, and that he loves me as much as I love him. Dan makes me laugh, reminds me to eat, and forces me to step away from the keyboard once in a while. He keeps me sane, and the comments he writes in the margins of my books are hilarious.

  And Pippin, Dan’s partner in crime, who forces me to take writing breaks by stomping on my keyboard with his four little paws and staring at me until I get on the floor and throw his ball. This book also has a family addition for Kate—a sweet dog named Gandalf. Gandalf was my dog when I was young, and he was my best friend. Putting him in this book has been a wonderful way to bring him back to life with memories.

  Most of all, thank you to my amazing readers! One of the biggest compliments an author gets is people continuing to read their books. With every book I release, I’m always amazed by your support and I’m so incredibly appreciative! I wouldn’t be able to do this without you, and I wish I could give every one of you a hug. Come see me at an event so I can!

  xoxo,

  Ang

  Angela Corbett graduated from Westminster College and previously worked as a journalist, freelance writer, and director of communications and marketing. She lives in Utah with her extremely supportive husband, and loves classic cars, traveling, and chasing their five-pound Pomeranian, Pippin—who is just as mischievous as his hobbit namesake. She’s the author of Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult fiction—with lots of kissing. She writes under two names, Angela Corbett, and Destiny Ford.