by Ella Miles
My eyes burn into her black lace bra and thong underwear. She has a gorgeous body. And she’s right; I’m a man in need of fucking a woman’s brains out. The only reason I’m fighting it at all is that I hate when Noah is right. It will only empower him to pull shit like this again.
“Wait for me in my bedroom, down the hallway to the right.”
She smiles.
“And, if you tell Noah about this, you’re fired.”
9
Skye
My hands continue to do compressions over the small puppy’s chest. I’m exhausted. I’ve been trying to save this puppy for three hours now.
Most vets would have given up a long time ago. He was hit by a car, and most of the bones in his body are broken. He has internal bleeding that I know I can’t stop. And he’s been touch and go since he arrived.
But he’s a fighter, and I won’t give up on him. So, I keep doing compressions, trying to convince his heart to keep beating.
“Skye,” Alicia, my vet technician, says in a stern voice.
I keep pumping my arms over the puppy’s small chest.
“Skye, it’s time,” she says, placing her hand on my shoulder.
I know she’s right. That he’s already gone. But, for some reason, it’s harder for me to give up on the strays than the ones who have an owner. At least the ones with an owner had a good life. They were loved.
This puppy grew up alone. He’s barely eight months, and if the car accident hadn’t taken his life, starvation most likely would have.
“Time of death: six thirty-three,” I say, stopping the compressions.
I stroke his head. This is the hardest part of the job—when I can’t save them. This is what I was put on this earth to do, and when I fail, I’m lost.
“You should go home. You weren’t even supposed to be on duty today,” Alicia says.
I nod. I’ll go. I’m too exhausted to be of any use here.
I walk like a zombie to my office to collect my things, and then I start walking the half-mile down the road to the small farmhouse that I call home.
Usually, I like the walk. It gives me time to clear my head before I’m greeted by my herd of animals. But not today. Today, I don’t want to think. Today is hard.
My thoughts go back to the beach. To Brody, as they often have these last couple of months since I returned from my vacation. And I feel the familiar feeling of anger take over. It’s easy than the pain I feel when I think about the puppy that I couldn’t save. A puppy that didn’t even have a name.
I open the door to my small farmhouse and am greeted by my four mutt dogs. “Hey, Sherbet, Grumpy, Ernie, and Lady,” I say, greeting each dog.
I try to smile, but I just can’t today. Even Ernie’s infectious grin isn’t enough to warm my heart. Not today.
I walk the few feet to the back door and open the door to let them out into the backyard. I might be exhausted, but my day doesn’t end when I come home. I have three horses, two cows, six chickens, three pigs, a rooster, four dogs, and three cats that rely on me. So, I follow the dogs out into the yard and get to work. Thankful to have something to keep my mind occupied instead of my lonely thoughts.
The sun is setting fast by the time I’m about finished feeding and giving the animals the attention they need. I start walking back up the field toward the house to make myself something to eat with the dogs fast on my heels, excited that it’s time for them to get fed as well.
I sense him before I see him. My body is used to being alert for when I feel danger nearby.
“You’re not welcome here,” I say, grabbing on to Grumpy and giving the rest of the dogs a look to stay by me.
They all do, sitting carefully next to me as they intently stare at the stranger.
Brody is standing just outside the fence on my property. His face is clean-shaven, and his hair is shorter than the last time I saw him. In a dark suit, he’s very out of place here.
“I just want to talk. Can I take you to a late dinner or to get a drink or something?”
“No,” I say as I continue to hold on to Grumpy, the only dog I have that isn’t fully trained yet. My negative energy transfers through my body to his, the longer I hold him, getting him even more worked up as he fights to try to get to the intruder.
Brody looks down at the dog I’m holding on to. “He friendly?” he asks as he puts his hand on the gate.
“No, he’s not friendly. Especially toward men he feels are intruders.” I let him jump forward a little bit in my hands as I continue to hold on to him. He growls fiercely, making Brody hesitate.
Brody frowns. “What would it take to get you to talk to me?”
I laugh deviously. “There is nothing you could do to get me to talk to you.”
“I hurt you that bad, huh?”
“No, I just don’t give a shit about you. You aren’t even supposed to be here. You were supposed to be out of my life after the week, remember?”
“I didn’t get my last fuck in.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Seriously? It wasn’t my fault. It was yours! You were the one who said you would come to the airport and didn’t. It seems you got your last fuck in just fine, just not with me.”
He grins. “So, you do care.”
“No,” I lie.
“You were the one who went running home to Gabe. You were the one who cut our time short.” He looks at the dogs. “So, which one is Gabe anyway?”
My eyes darken. He thinks Gabe is one of my animals. Now, it’s my turn to hurt him.
“This is Grumpy. That’s Ernie, Sherbet, and Lady.”
He frowns. “So, Gabe is a cat.”
“Tommy, Jordan, and Ruffus.”
“A horse?”
“Blondie, Pumpkin, and Sandy.”
“The other animals?”
I smile. “Nope.”
He runs his hand through his short hair before rubbing his neck. “You aren’t going to tell me who Gabe is, are you?”
“Not likely, no. I like that you have too many thoughts going through your head right now as you try to figure it out. And it’s driving you crazy.”
He smirks. “It’s not driving me crazy. Not having your mouth sucking my cock—that is what is driving me crazy. I just want to know who Gabe is, so I know when to duck when he takes a swing at me.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Which part? Because I guarantee that your lips are going to be wrapped around my dick by the end of the night.”
I shake my head. “You’re still so cocky, aren’t you? We are done. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“You sure about that? Because your body is telling me differently.”
I glare at him. “We are done.”
He reaches for the gate and opens it, thinking now is his opportunity to walk inside and catch me off guard. I’m sure he thinks, if he can get close enough where I can smell his cologne again, close enough that I can see his charming dimples, close enough that I can hear his beating heart, then I’ll change my mind. I’ll just fall back into his arms again, just like we were back on the beach in our fantasy world. That bubble burst the second he sent me the text message with the big-tits woman.
“Don’t take another step forward!” I shout.
He doesn’t listen. I release Grumpy and release the rest of the dogs with a look. I just wish, for once, they were actually capable of attacking a man when I needed them to. Instead, they run over and attack him all right. Just with kisses and hugs and tail wags.
But it gets the job done. He can’t move, and I take the opportunity to run inside. I slam the door shut and lock it tightly behind me as I lean against the door. Can this day get any worse?
10
Brody
God, how I’ve missed her.
I’ve missed her sass.
I’ve missed her wit.
I’ve missed her charm.
Her smile, body
, intelligence, fierceness. Everything. I’ve missed everything.
Except, now, she hates my guts. I knew sending her that text message would bite me in the ass one day.
I look down at the dogs that are jumping all over me. Slobbering and getting hair all over my suit. I’m not a dog person or an animal person of any kind really. I could be, I guess. But I’ve never spent any time with them or thought I needed to have an animal in my life. I prefer my alone time in peace rather than having to take care of another living thing.
So, I have no idea how to get them to stop. I slowly back up toward the gate and manage to wiggle out without letting the beasts loose.
I take a deep breath as I walk back to the car I rented and move on to plan B. She clearly isn’t happy to see me, but I do know her weaknesses, what she won’t turn down.
I open the back door and pull out the bottle of tequila and Chinese takeout. I put on my most charming grin as I walk back to her front door and knock loudly.
I wait, knowing that she’s going to be stubborn and not want to open the door. But a few minutes pass, and she slowly relents, coming to the door.
“I brought food and tequila because I’m sure you don’t have any food in the house,” I say even though I don’t know if that’s true. I just know that she cares about her animals more than she does herself. That’s clear from where I sat in my car, watching her before I got out.
I stare at her more closely, getting a good look at the changes since the last time I saw her months ago. Her hair is pulled back, but it no longer has the blue streaks that ran through her hair before. Her hair is no longer jet-black either; it’s more a medium brown. Most of her piercings are no longer covering her face. The tattoos are hidden by her long sleeves underneath her scrubs even though it’s the middle of summer.
Her eyes are what give me the most concern though. People change their appearance. Maybe she was going through a rebel phase that she’s trying to get past now. But her eyes are expelling a sadness that I’ve never seen before. Maybe this is the same sadness that she was running from on vacation. Whatever is in her eyes is what she needed me to fuck away and make her forget. Now that I’m gone, the reality of that pain is back.
She opens the door just a little and snatches the food and alcohol out of my hand. Then, she slams the door in my face before I have a chance to push my way inside. Not that I would. I like control, but I would never make her feel unsafe.
I sigh. On to plan C. I walk back to my car and drive the half-mile back to the clinic where my new favorite vet tech, Alicia, is.
“No luck, huh?” she asks when I step back inside.
“Nope, but I have a plan C. And, if that doesn’t work, I’ll try plan D and so on.”
She smiles. “And you want my help?”
I nod.
“I shouldn’t help you, but Skye doesn’t need to be alone tonight. She could use some company even if it’s bad company.”
I frown. “I’m not bad company.”
“Skye told me what you did in the Bahamas.”
“Fine. I’m not the best. But I do know I’m a good distraction, and it seems Skye is in need of a distraction.” I bat my eyes at her while saying, “Please.”
“If you bring her a sick animal to take care of, she will let you in.”
I grin. “That was exactly what I was thinking.”
“Hold on,” she says, disappearing into the back room and then reappearing with a cardboard box with small holes cut out on the top.
I take the box from her and open the lid. I jump back, dropping the box.
She does a full-belly laugh, grabbing her stomach as she walks over and picks up the box that I just dropped.
“Is this a joke? Did you and Skye plan this to get back at me?” I ask, my voice much higher than usual.
Alicia continues to laugh as she walks the box back over to me. “No, it’s not a joke. The snake needs medical attention.”
I frown. “I’m not a big fan of snakes.”
“I would have never guessed that,” she snarks.
“Why can’t I bring a puppy or kitten or something that needs her help?”
“One, because most of our puppies and kittens need more medical help than what she can provide at her house. And, two, because I’m still not a huge fan of yours, and I want to make you suffer as much as possible. Consider it my own personal test to see if you are worthy of hanging out with my friend.” She holds the box out to me. “Now, do you want to see Skye tonight or not?”
I slowly take the box. I’ll just keep the lid on the whole time. I’m not sure if a sick snake is enough to get Skye to let me into her house, but I’ll give it a try. If not, I’ll come back and find the cutest puppy to take back and try again.
“So, you want to tell me about Gabe?” I ask.
She smirks. “Nope, I’m not touching that conversation. If Skye wants to tell you, she will.”
“Thanks,” I say, holding up the box a little as I walk toward the door.
“But, if I were you, I wouldn’t mention Gabe tonight. She’s been through enough tonight, so don’t add to her depression.”
I nod. Too late, I think.
But I’ll table the Gabe questions until later. It seems that no one wants to tell me exactly who Gabe is, but I have enough resources that I’m sure I can figure it out if I put some of my guys on it.
I put the box with the snake in the passenger seat next to me, and then I climb in the driver’s seat and drive back to Skye’s place, keeping my eye on the box the whole time, making sure the snake doesn’t slither out. I park the car on the gravel driveway in front of her house, behind an old pickup truck that doesn’t look like it has run in ten years at least.
I climb out of the car and walk around to the passenger side. I take the box out, carrying it with both hands as I walk up the gravel driveway to the front of the white farmhouse. It’s not very large and much older than any house I’ve ever been in besides my grandparents’. There are daisies planted outside the red front door. The house is not that big, which surprises me after how much money she spent on vacation. I figured she would have a mansion somewhere. She owns what seems like quite a bit of land, but that still wouldn’t cost as much as a nice house would.
I knock on the red door that needs a new coat of paint and wait to see if Skye will open the door or at least respond. I knock again after a few seconds pass. I hear stomping footsteps inside, and finally, she creaks the door open just enough to see me.
“What do you want, Brody?”
I hold up the box. “I have a sick snake that needs your veterinarian skills.”
She glares at me as she slowly opens the door. “Well, let’s see it,” she says, exhaling deeply.
I grin and lift the lid just enough so that she can see inside.
Her gaze darts from inside the box to me. “There isn’t a snake in that box.”
“Will you just take a look at the snake? I’m not sure if it is sick or not, but I’m concerned.”
“I would, but there is no snake in the box.”
I throw the lid open and find the box empty. “Shit.”
I run back to my rental car and peek into the windows, not daring to open it.
Skye walks slowly over to the car and looks in the window. “Was there ever really a snake, or is this all some stupid hoax where you try to save me from the snake or something?”
“There was really a snake. Alicia helped me out.” I hesitantly look over at Skye.
She shakes her head as she tucks a loose strand behind her ear. “Alicia needs to mind her own business.”
“She’s just looking out for you. She said she was concerned after what happened today.”
She looks up at me. “She told you?”
“No, she just told me you had a rough day and to treat you well. That you needed a distraction.”
She stares at me for a moment, lost in thought, and then returns her gaze to the car. “There,” she says, pointing to the driver�
�s side of the car where I’m standing.
I stare at the snake as it slithers up the side of the seat. I have no idea how we are going to capture it. “Should we call animal control or something?”
She laughs. “You’re afraid of the snake, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Then, reach in, and grab the snake just behind the base of the head.”
I frown. “No, it could kill me if it bites me.”
“It’s not venomous. And it’s sick, so its reflexes are much slower. It shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
I stare at the snake that seems to be taunting me. There is no way I’m reaching in and grabbing that snake. I don’t care if my masculinity is put into question. Me and snakes don’t get along.
Skye rolls her eyes and then throws open the passenger door. She sticks her upper body in, and the next thing I know, she’s holding on to the snake and carrying it into her house.
Superwoman. She’s fucking superwoman.
I follow after her as she walks into the house, not asking for permission to come in because I don’t want to know the answer. As soon as I step inside the small house, I’m greeted again by her four dogs jumping and licking me.
“Down,” Skye commands.
All but one listen to her. She gives the last one a stern look, and he eventually stops jumping on me as well.
Skye lays the snake out on the counter and starts examining it while I step cautiously into the kitchen to watch her work. She runs her hands over the snake, like it’s a dog or a cat.
“It just has a cold. I’ll give her some medications, and she’ll be feeling better by tomorrow.” She looks at me. “Can you get me the box?”
I frown as I carry the box from the front porch to her. “Don’t you think we should put it in something more secure? It already escaped once.”
“How did I not realize how much of a pansy you were?” she asks, putting the snake into the box.