Flirting with Love

by Melissa Foster

  “Two weeks ago, maybe two and a half. I’m sorry. Is there a pig doctor around that I should have taken him to? I looked through Aunt Cora’s phone book, and under vet there was just your first name and address: Ross, 15 Staynor Way. You’re practically right next door, so I jumped in my car and brought him over.”

  “How did you get him to stay still long enough to bring him over?” Ross pushed his hand gently beneath the sleeping piglet and captured it in one strong hand, then rose with it pressed against his body. It awoke and squealed and squirmed. Ross tucked it beneath his arm like a football and moved to the counter.

  “I sat in the backseat for about fifteen minutes in your parking lot, just kind of talking to him, until he calmed down enough to grab him and race inside.”

  “Is he eating?” Ross didn’t look at Elisabeth. He was focused on the piglet, feeling its body, its legs, while it squirmed and fought his every touch.

  “Not much, and he’s so much smaller than the other piglets. I just got scared when he wouldn’t stop screaming, or squealing, or whatever you call it.” She wasn’t sure if it was the seriousness of Ross’s gaze on the piglet, or the perfect bow of his lips, or maybe the way his dress shirt hugged his biceps, but something was making her babble like an idiot, and what made it worse was that she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. I’m a staring, babbling idiot.

  A knock at the door startled her out of her Ross-induced trance.

  “Come in, Kelsey,” he said without looking at the door.

  The receptionist came into the room and closed the door behind her. “I thought you could use some help.”

  Elisabeth watched the two move in tandem, like they’d been working together forever as Ross took the piglet’s temperature and weighed it, which was a feat in and of itself. Elisabeth wondered if they were dating, although Kelsey looked very young and Ross looked to be in his midthirties, which would also not be out of the question by LA standards. Then again, nothing was out of the question by LA standards, which was one of the reasons she’d been overjoyed to come back to Trusty, a town she’d visited only as a child. Trusty had left such a strong impression of wholesomeness and peaceful living in her young mind that she’d built her hopes and dreams around one day returning.

  Kelsey slipped out the back door of the exam room and returned a few minutes later with a baby bottle. She handed it to Ross and smiled at Elisabeth.

  “I’ll get your paperwork together so you can complete it at home. You can drop it by this week sometime.” Kelsey turned back to Ross. “Mrs. Mace called and canceled. Something about her husband not feeling well.”

  Ross nodded as he secured his hand beneath the piglet, with his palm against the squirming baby’s chest, and plugged its mouth with the bottle. The side of his mouth quirked up, softening his serious demeanor.

  “Thanks, Kelsey. I hope he’s okay.”

  Alone in the exam room again, Ross leaned his butt against the counter and finally looked at Elisabeth. He didn’t say anything at first, just lifted the side of his mouth again in a semi grin that made her insides warm.

  “He’s the runt, I take it?” The piglet snarfed and grunted as it sucked the bottle. Ross’s sleeves were folded up just above his elbow. The muscles in his forearm flexed against the piglet’s efforts. He was somehow gentle yet firm with the piglet, and it drew Elisabeth to her feet and closer to him.

  “Yes. He’s much littler. His name is Kennedy.”

  That earned her a genuine, full-on smile. “Kennedy?”

  “Yeah. I think he’s strong even though he’s little, kind of like Jackie O, but he’s a boy, so I can’t call him Jackie. I mean, I guess I could, but…” She shrugged and smiled. “I guess I just liked Kennedy.”

  “It’s a fine name. Well, Kennedy needs nourishment. He’s squealing because he’s not getting enough. This”—he nodded at the bottle—“is goat’s milk. Piglets have trouble digesting cow’s milk. They need the immunity protection from the mother’s milk, but when they can’t get enough, supplement with goat’s milk or a goat replacement formula.”

  Goat replacement formula? There is such a thing? “Okay. Where do I get it?”

  “They sell it at the feed store right in town, or if you want it straight from the farm, Wynchels’, on the other side of town, sells it.” He looked up and their eyes caught.

  Elisabeth’s pulse quickened, and as if Ross could sense the change, he smiled.

  “How’s the rest of the litter?”

  “Good, I think.” She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I can bring them in for you to give them a once-over.” She texted a note to herself to buy goat’s milk.

  He took the bottle from the piglet’s mouth and set it down. “You don’t have to bring them in. I’ll come by and check them out. Is there a day or time that works for you?”

  Elisabeth wondered if he made house calls for everyone, or if he felt the air heat up every time their eyes connected, too, and would make a special trip just to see her.

  “A house call?”

  “Sure. With farm animals, it’s easier for everyone and less stressful for the animals.”

  So much for him feeling the heat.

  “Um, anytime is good, I guess. I’m still getting settled and trying to figure out Aunt Cora’s business and the whole farm thing.”

  He ran his eyes down her body, deliberately this time. Okay, maybe he does feel the heat after all. She felt her insides melt. Oh, yes, Ross Braden definitely had a sexual edgy side that probably landed any woman he wanted beneath him.

  “You don’t have much experience with animals, do you?” His lips curved up in a sexy smile.

  She was still hung up on that seductive stroll of his eyes down her body. His remark startled and mildly offended her.

  “I have a lot of experience with dogs and cats. I ran a pet bakery and pet spa in Los Angeles, thank you very much.” She pocketed her phone.

  “Pet bakery and…Never mind. I meant farm animals.” He reached for the door and shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”

  She let out a frustrated breath. No experience with animals. Please. I love animals.

  He returned with the piglet safe and secure in a cat carrier. “I’ll carry him out for you. This is safer than letting him run around your car while you drive, but don’t leave him in this once you’re back home. It’s too small.”

  Still disgruntled at the way he’d dismissed her business, she snapped, “I would never leave him in there.”

  If he noticed her attitude, he didn’t show it as she followed him out of the exam room. Two Labradors, one black and one tan, were waiting by the exam room door. She pet them as they followed Ross out to the car. She hadn’t had any contact with dogs and cats since leaving LA, and she missed them. Petting them helped calm her agitation.

  Ross opened the back door and set the crate on the seat, then opened the driver’s side door for her.

  Surprised by the gesture, she settled into the car. “Thank you for all your help.” Mr. Tall Dark and Confusing.

  Ross rested one arm on the roof of the car and leaned down so they were eye to eye. He wore a pair of tan slacks with a black Trusty Veterinary Clinic polo shirt. She tried not to notice the impressive bulge in his pants just below his leather belt.

  “Take my number in case you have any more emergencies.” A dog sat on either side of him.

  She pulled out her phone and tried to act nonchalant as he rattled off his phone number and she put it into her contact list. She didn’t ask if it was his office number or personal number. She couldn’t. His eyes were boring a hole right through her. It was a wonder she could process anything at all. Surely he was just being nice, anyway. She was new in town, and he…Oh God. He made the smell of animals and antiseptic soap sexy. Elisabeth imagined women probably followed him around just like his dogs. The thought gave her pause and intrigued her at the same time.

  Down, girl.

  She set her phone on the passenger seat and turned to thank hi
m again. His face was so close she could see every whisker on his square jaw and three sweet lines in his lower lip that she wanted to run her finger over. He smiled, and her mind turned to mush again.

  Jesus, what am I? A dog in heat? These types of thoughts surprised her. She wasn’t looking for sex, and even if she had been actively searching for a man, she wanted a relationship, not just sex. Anyone could have sex, but it took two people who were really in love to have a meaningful, lasting relationship, and that’s what she dreamed of.

  “Ross,” Kelsey called from the porch of the clinic. “Luke’s on the phone for you.”

  Ross held Elisabeth’s gaze for a minute longer. “Welcome to Trusty, Elisabeth. I’ll swing by when I’m free.”

  It took her a minute to breathe—and to remember why he was stopping by. To check out the piglets. She needed to get a grip. Maybe he could give her a shot of Ross repellant, because she had a life to build and a business to maintain, and a man like Ross would probably chew her up and spit her out.

  But, oh, would the chewing up be delicious.

  Chapter Two

  IT WASN’T THE hungry piglet Ross was thinking about as he drove forty minutes from Denton back to Trusty. It was the beautiful, befuddled blonde who brought that little piggy in to see him who had his entire body revved up ever since. Ross wasn’t often taken by a woman’s looks. He was more often taken by a woman’s personality, but Elisabeth had a wholesome appearance that had definitely struck a chord.

  Storm, a six-month-old black Lab and his weekend charge from the Denton Prison Pup Partners program, yawned on the seat beside him. Ross had been Storm’s weekend foster handler since the dog first entered the program as an eight-week-old puppy. Ross picked him up on Friday evenings and kept him until late Sunday, when he returned to the Prison Pup program in Denton for the week. Storm was as bonded to Ranger, Sarge, and Knight as he was to Ross. Ross tousled his head at the same time that his stomach growled. Storm cocked his head to the side and wrinkled his brow. By seven thirty Friday night, Ross needed nourishment as badly as that little piglet had.

  “Gotta eat sometime. Might as well get you some socialization while I’m at it.”

  Ross parked in front of Trusty Diner and leashed Storm. As a vital part of the service-dog training program, the dogs in training went to weekend puppy raisers, or foster homes, on the weekends. During that time, they went everywhere the foster families did, exposing the dogs to people, traffic, stores, and other noises and elements that weren’t available at the prison.

  The bell rang above the door as Ross and Storm entered the diner.

  “Two of my favorite boys,” Margie called from behind the counter.

  “Settle,” Ross said to Storm, in preparation for the flurry of activity that was Margie Holmes. She hurried over in her pink waitress uniform and touched Ross’s cheek. Margie had been a waitress at Trusty Diner forever, and she knew the rules about not petting service dogs, but when it came to people, Margie knew no boundaries. She hugged, petted, and squeezed as she wished.

  “You know I love you, Ross, but it kills me not to be able to love up that baby of yours.”

  “I know it does, and thank you. I’ve already got three boys who didn’t make the cut. I’d like to see Storm go to a good home.” That was only partially true. Ross loved the six-month-old black Lab as much as he loved his own pups, but truth be told, his bed was getting a little small for any more bodies. Well, other than a warm womanly one, which brought his mind back to Elisabeth. He hadn’t dated a woman in town in years. Knowing about gossip was one thing, but being the center of it was a whole other ballgame.

  Margie patted her eighties feathered hair. “Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. You here for dinner, hon?”

  “Yes, and I’m starved.” Ross climbed into a booth. “Go in,” he instructed Storm. Storm crawled under the table and lay down. “Good boy.”

  Margie brought him a tall glass of ice water and a menu. “If you could train men like that, you’d make a fortune.”

  “You do realize I’m a man, right?” He smiled up at the woman who was as much a hallmark of Trusty as the crisp mountain air.

  “Sugar, that’s something no red-blooded woman could miss.” She winked at him and then went to help another customer.

  Forty minutes later Ross stood before the cash register sated and happy, with a belly full of meat loaf and mashed potatoes and Destination Elisabeth on his mind.

  “Heard you had a pretty visitor today,” Margie said as she rang him up.

  Ross handed her his credit card. “How did you know Alice Shalmer came in to see me?”

  “Playing coy, are we?” As Margie ran his credit card through the machine, her eyes never left his. “You know I read right through that coy stuff.” She leaned in close and whispered, “She’s mighty pretty, but she’s an LA girl, Ross. Trouble with a capital T. Probably only here to sell Cora’s place, take the money from Cora’s hard work, and run.”

  “Hm.” Ross slipped his card into his wallet and tried not to let Margie’s judgment cloud his own. Margie had always been protective of Ross and his siblings. He figured it was because their father left them when Ross was only five, but he’d since learned that Margie was protective of most of the respected residents of Trusty. Even those she gossiped about could win her allegiance if they set their stories straight.

  “Have a nice evening, Margie. Dinner was delicious, as always.” He looked down at Storm, standing patiently by his side. “Let’s go.”

  Ten minutes later Ross pulled down the driveway that led to Cora’s farmette. Elisabeth’s farmette. Cora had been widowed at the age of forty-five, when her husband died of a heart attack. They didn’t have any children, and the town had rallied around her for the next twenty years. When Ross purchased the adjacent property and built his veterinary clinic and home, he too came to her aid, helping her with her animals and small repairs around the farm, checking on her during storms, and making sure she had groceries in the winter. She’d eventually hired a farmhand, and after she died, the farmhand had continued caring for the animals. Ross hadn’t realized her niece had moved in and taken over.

  He parked behind Elisabeth’s Subaru Outback. Not exactly an uptight LA girl’s car. He stepped from his truck with his medical bag in hand.

  “Let’s go,” he said to Storm.

  Storm came to his side as Ross surveyed the property. His heart sank at the sight of Cora’s old Trusty Pies delivery van. She hadn’t used it in years, but it brought back memories of Ross and his brothers hanging out in town, waving as she drove by on her way to the diner or some other destination. If they caught her at one of her stops, she’d cut them each a slice and tell them not to tell anyone else or she’d have no pie left. Now the van was rusted all the way through above the front tire, the two rear tires were flat, and the grass around the van was waist high. He swallowed the sadness of losing his neighbor and turned in the direction of the barn and the chicken coop. Just beyond the barn was the pasture where Cora’s cow, Dolly, and two goats, Chip and Dale, grazed. Ross smiled at their names. Cora always did have a good sense of humor.

  He crossed the lawn to the two-story farmhouse. The steps creaked as he ascended them to the wide front porch. He heard music coming from beyond the screen door. Ross peered into the wide hallway, straight through the back screen door, where he caught a glimpse of something black that looked suspiciously like part of a woman’s ass and leg, but his vision was obscured by the back door, propped halfway open. He stepped off the porch and walked around to the back of the house.

  The music wasn’t coming from inside; it was coming from the backyard. He rounded the side of the house and stopped at the sight of Elisabeth wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a skintight tank top. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her body was contorted into some kind of knot with her incredibly hot ass up in the air. Christ, you are sexy. Ross’s mind immediately went to her long legs wrapped around him, over his shoulders, and—she unknotted
herself and turned, catching him leering at her.

  “Oh.” Her cheeks flushed.

  Ross couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t staring, so he did the only thing he was capable of. He smiled. “Hey.”

  “Ross. Dr. Braden. I didn’t see you standing there.” She rose, and Ross wanted to kiss the feet of whoever had developed yoga pants and tank tops. Elisabeth looked like a young Christie Brinkley. She definitely had the California-girl image, and Ross couldn’t find a damn thing wrong with that. She grabbed a towel and patted her glistening face, neck, and chest.

  Damn. He’d love to be that towel.

  “Ross, please,” he finally managed.

  “Ross,” she repeated. “And who’s your adorable friend?”

  Ross glanced at Storm. “Free dog,” he said to the pup and unleashed him. The command let Storm know he was off duty and free to play.

  “This is Storm. He’s a service dog in training.”

  She knelt to pet the puppy. “He’s beautiful. Six months?”

  “Yeah, about that.” Ross was about to ask how she knew so quickly, but then he remembered she’d owned some kind of crazy pet bakery and spa. He couldn’t just stand there ogling her, so he made an attempt at small talk. “Yoga?”

  “Yeah. It’s the only thing that centers me, and you know, new place, starting over. I definitely need centering.” She looked down at her clothes. “Please excuse the sweat.”

  Ross nodded, unsure what else to say, because he was pretty sure, Babe, I’ll center you, and you can put that sweaty body against mine anytime, wouldn’t go over very well. Besides, getting involved with a neighbor was a bad idea. Even a neighbor who looked like she was put on this earth to fulfill his every fantasy.