Chasing Hope
Page 23
She let out an audible lungful of air and moved away from the counter. “Well, I think it’s light enough to explore.”
Jack snorted.
The edges of Coop’s lips turned up. “He doesn’t seem interested.”
“Yeah, but he needs the exercise.”
“Got a route in mind?”
Every word he spoke rolled over her in a tidal wave of heat. A quick shake of her head sent her ponytail sliding to the side. “Just riding around, checking out the area. Got in too late last night to see much of anything.”
“Well,” he pushed away from the counter, “enjoy your ride” He headed for the door, stopping to speak to the dog. “Nice to meet you, Jack.”
A soft rumble and a couple of weak tail thumps indicated acceptance.
Cooper grinned and walked out.
Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “No. No. No,” she commanded, “Hormones fooled me once. I won’t let it happen again.”
She nudged Jack with her toe and headed out the back door, her unhappy companion lagging behind.
What the devil is wrong with me? Sam sped down the road, tires kicking up rocks and dust. She looked straight ahead, but her mind’s eye recalled the chance meeting in sharp detail. Her body still hummed with the force of his effect on it. Lust at first sight? Is that a real thing?
“Oh my God, Jack. What must he be thinking?”
Her silent companion watched intently, head cocked to one side as though listening while she ranted.
“I ogled like a fricking school girl.” She shook her head, cheeks burning as she relived the encounter. “But at least, thank you God, I stopped short of drooling, though I’m sure I would have if he hadn’t left when he did.”
Jack’s head cocked the other way, as though silently urging her to continue.
“Okay, okay, I looked. I admit it. I couldn’t help it.” She licked her lips. “Oh my. That chest,” she murmured. “So much hair.” Her fingers arched as she imagined running them through the thick mass of dark curls. “And didn’t he sound a little like Sam Elliott to you? Kinda gravelly and raspy, and when he smiled—” She slapped her palm against her temple. “What the blue blazes is wrong with me? Did Paul not teach me anything?” She shook her head, sending her lopsided ponytail lower. “But his eyes, they were so, so, intense. Such an unusual color, too. Not grey, not blue; more, I don’t know, like the ashes of a cold campfire or the color of storm clouds rolling in. The minute I looked at them,” she paused as a light shiver rolled over her. “I swear it jolted me down to my toes.” She wagged a finger at her companion. “And I’m not some sex-starved divorcee who can’t control herself, either, though I’m sure he thought so. I stared. Fine. Not a crime. God took a lot of extra pains with him, and it would be extremely rude of me not to notice.” She focused on the road. “My goodness did I notice. If ever a man was built for seven kinds of sin…”
Sam gave little thought to conversing with Jack as though he understood. In fact, sincerely believed he did. She found him beside a dumpster near the hospital two years ago more dead than alive from two bullet wounds. After he healed, they were constant companions. Paul, her now ex-husband, complained constantly about him being in the house, going everywhere with her, but she ignored his rants. Their marriage was already rocky by then, and she needed the mutt as much as he needed her.
Which no doubt explained why Paul and Jack never liked each other. Or maybe Jack was a better judge of character than her.
She sped down the road, wheel gripped in her left hand, her right waving around as she poured out her thoughts. “What did he expect anyway waltzing in there half-dressed?” She inhaled deeply and rested both hands on the wheel. “I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Males in general are self-centered jerks who should be lined up and shot at sunrise.” She reached over and patted Jack’s head. “Well, except you, of course.”
A soft whine and a thump of his tail drew her gaze.
“Again? You just went.”
Another whine.
“Okay, okay.” She searched ahead for an appropriate exit. Seeing what appeared to be a lane off to the right, she slowed and signaled a turn. It was little more than a well-traveled dirt lane leading to a briskly moving stream surrounded by willows, pines and an assortment of East Texas foliage. The nearest bank held a collage of mementos from past visitors, classifying the area as a primo make-out spot. Her mind’s eye marked the location of beer cans, towels and discarded condoms even as she pulled under a towering pine. She rummaged in the glove box for tissues and finding them, opened the door and stepped out.
“Come on you big whiney-butt.”
Jack jumped out and headed for the pine tree.
Sam headed in the opposite direction and gave a sharp, “Stay,” when he turned to follow. Rounding the lone holly bush, thumbs tugging on the waistband of her pants, she saw the body.