Paws Up for Love

by Stephanie Rowe

  Especially a deathbed promise given in front of one's six-year-old daughter, who won't ever let you forget your oath. Like, ever. Not even for one headache-laden, frostbitten-toes moment.

  "Mom!" The six-year-old in question tugged on Jaimi Hamilton's hand, apparently not remotely concerned about the wind that was knifing through their clothes. Because that was how six-year-olds operated. They never felt cold, unless it was eighty degrees and they wanted to leave the park the minute the attractive, single dad with decent moral standards and a car that actually worked showed up. "Do you see them? Are they here?"

  Jaimi squatted down so she was level with her daughter, her heart tugging at the way Emily's blue eyes sparkled in the wintry snow. She gently pulled Emily's stocking cap lower over her forehead. "Baby cakes, remember. This is a secret mission. They can't ever know we're here for them, unless we decide to reveal our true identity, right?"

  Emily's lower lip jutted out. "What if I don't want to be a spy?"

  "We have to be spies. What if they're evil, and we have to stop their plan to steal toys from all the children in the world on Christmas morning? Then we don't want them to know who we are, right?"

  Emily giggled and rolled her eyes. "They don't have a plan to steal toys from all the children in the world."

  "Really? You're so sure about that?" Jaimi gave her daughter her most skeptical look. "How do we know until we spy on them for a while?"

  Emily put her hands on her hips and eyed her mom. "Grandma would never tell us to come to Wyoming to find them, unless they were nice. Don't you trust Gram?"

  Jaimi laughed. "Sweetie, no one ever trusts Gram if they know what's good for them." Wait. Not trusts. Trusted. Because Gram was gone now. God, she felt like she'd never get used to that fact.

  Laughter bubbled out of Emily. "Gram was such trouble."

  "That she was." A lump formed in Jaimi's throat, but she quickly swallowed it away. She'd promised her mom that there would be no tears. Life was too short for tears and regret. Every moment was a gift to be treasured. "And so are you."

  Emily's grin widened. "Gram says you're trouble, too."

  "That's been my lifelong goal, so I'm still working on it." Jaimi pulled off her glove and held up her hand. "Trouble-making girls rock the world, right?"

  "Right!" Emily whipped off her pink fuzzy mitten and hooked her pinkie around Jaimi's. "I swear to cause trouble my whole life," she said with a solemn giggle as they squeezed pinkies. "Just like you and Gram."

  "And I swear to continue to cause trouble my whole life, just like you and Gram." God, how many times had she made that oath with her mom over the years? A thousand times? And then, after Emily had been born, it had been the three of them…until two months ago. Now it was back down to two.

  Two pinkies were not nearly as good as three when it came to pinkie swears.

  Emily beamed at her. "They'll love us, Mom. We're amazing like that."

  Jaimi couldn't help but smile at her daughter's self-confidence. Her number one goal as a mom had always been to raise a daughter who lived life on her own terms, who would never be held back by what anyone thought of her. It meant she had a little hellion on her hands at times, but she'd never trade a second of chaos for a daughter who shrank from who she was, who she wanted to be, and what anyone thought of her.

  In terms of embracing her badass self, the pupil had far surpassed the teacher long ago, and was turning out to be a lot like her Gram, which was awesome. Jaimi, on the other hand, wasn't nearly the self-confident, f*ck the world, mover and shaker that her daughter thought she was. But hey, that was her little secret, right? As far as Emily was concerned, Jaimi was everything she told Emily to be. So, she smiled. "Of course they'll love us. Who wouldn't want two fabulous girls appearing on their doorstep the week before Christmas and announcing they're family that no one ever knew existed, right?" Oh, God. Just the idea of that made her stomach knot. What on earth had her mom been thinking, making Jaimi promise to make this trip? She hadn't specifically made Jaimi promise to actually introduce herself, however, so Jaimi was holding tight to that little loophole.

  "Totally!" Emily clapped her hands. "Can we do it today? You have the address, right? To their huuuge ranch? What if we moved onto the ranch? Can I get a pony? I could become a barrel racer—"

  "Slow down, cheetah-girl. We're not moving here. We're just here for Christmas vacation, and we both have to be back at school after New Year's."

  Emily wrinkled her nose. "You don't like teaching. I heard you telling Gram. Why do you teach if you don't like it? You always tell me to follow my heart, and you're not." Emily set her hand on her hips and glared at Jaimi, apparently completely offended by her mom's failure to deliver.

  Sigh. Maybe she should have focused more on raising a wimpy child who hid in her room all day after all… She tweaked her daughter's nose. "I do like teaching, and I keep teaching because it works perfectly because we're in school at the same time, so you don't need to go to late care, right?"

  Emily shrugged. "Late care is fun. Three kids got bloody noses last fall. I missed every one of them. All the blood was cleaned up by the time we had recess the next morning. What fun is that?"

  "Recess without blood is definitely a downer." Heaven help her. "But you'll get another chance when we go back there after New Year's. For now, we're here for Christmas, checking out the town, and learning how to enjoy our first Christmas without Gram."

  The tenacious little pugilist was not swayed from her agenda. "And we're going to meet our family, right? We're going to go up to them, and you're going to say 'Hey, Chase Stockton, I'm your sister—"

  A few heads turned toward them at Emily's raised voice, and Jaimi quickly interrupted. "Shh, sweetie, I—" She suddenly noticed the sheriff lounging nearby, watching them. His gaze was intense and hooded, and his casual stance failed to hide the raw strength of his body. His cowboy hat was tipped back, showcasing a strong, whiskered jaw, and dark sunglasses that hid his eyes. But it was clear he was staring right at them, and her stomach jumped again…though she wasn't sure whether it was fear of being caught before she was ready to declare herself, or because he was just so freaking male. His jeans were faded, and his long jacket was open, flapping about his calves, as if he didn't feel the cold at all. There was something untamed and unruly about him, as if he were the kind of man who lived life without walls, exactly how she wanted so badly to be.

  He nodded at her, and she suddenly realized she was staring at him. Heat flared in her cheeks, and she dragged her gaze off him and back to Emily. "We need to be top secret, Em." The Stocktons were well-known in Rogue Valley, and she didn't need the sheriff, or anyone else, alerting them that two out-of-towners were talking about being their long-lost family before Jaimi had a chance to figure out how she wanted to handle it. "We might or might not introduce ourselves, remember? We're spies right now, until we decide whether we want them to know who we are. If they aren't worthy, they don't get to know us, right?"

  Emily met her gaze. "They'll be worthy." There was absolute conviction in her voice, which alarmed Jaimi.

  She realized the little minx was planning to take control of the situation. No way. Some things in life were far more complicated than a six-year-old could grasp, and this was one of them. Curses to Gram for bringing Emily into this! Jaimi grasped her daughter's hands and squeezed gently. "Sweetie, I need you to make me a promise. Some people in this world aren't so nice. We don't know if the Stocktons are nice, and we don't know whether they would fit us. So, promise me you won't mention their names again unless we're alone, and you won't introduce us, until we both decide together that it's the right decision. We're a team, remember?"

  Emily sighed, but nodded. "I promise, but Mom, it'll be okay. Gram said you'd be scared, and I had to keep telling you it would be okay so your inner wimp wouldn't win out. So, it will be okay, 'kay?"

  Jaimi's brows shot up. "My inner wimp?"

  "Yes, Gram says we all have one, but yours is really
loud and obnoxious and it sometimes needs to be smacked around to make it shut up."

  Jaimi burst out laughing at her mom's words coming out of a six-year-old's mouth. "God, I love you, kiddo."

  Emily beamed at her. "I love you, too, Mom." She reached her hand into her parka pocket and pulled out a photograph. She held it up, and scanned the crowds passing by them. "I brought Chase's photo. Do you see him? Let's start spying—"

  "You brought one of the photos Gram had?" Jaimi snatched it out of her daughter's hand. Good God. They were going to look like stalkers! "I'll take that." She looked around, needing to distract her daughter. They were on the edge of the grounds of the Rogue Valley Christmas Festival, and there were people everywhere, tromping through the snow, wearing Santa hit, and overflowing with happy laughter on this opening afternoon of the three-day celebration. "Oh...look! Reindeer!"

  "Where?" Emily spun around, her eyes widening when she saw the pen of reindeer across the way. Christmas lights twinkled on the fence, and two of Santa's elves were giving out food pellets for the children to feed the animals. "Do you think Rudolph is there? Can we see?" She took off in a sprint, not even waiting for Jaimi.

  Jaimi sighed, and sat back on her heels, watching her daughter dart across the dirt road, effortlessly dodging crowds until she reached the fence around the reindeer pen. Emily grabbed the middle bar and climbed right up, moving with alarming speed and determination. Dear God, was she going to climb into the pen? "Em! Get down!" Jaimi jumped and started running toward her. "Emily!"

  Suddenly, she heard a horn blast, and she glanced to her right. A huge tractor was bearing down on her, only feet away. "Oh, shit—"

  Something suddenly hit her hard from the side, thrusting her out of the path of the tractor. She landed hard on the frozen ground, gasping as two strong arms dragged her across the gravelly earth, jerking her trailing feet out of the way of the massive tires just as they crunched by.

  She gasped, frozen, as she watched the massive tractor roll by, towing a trailer filled with hay bales and curious people, who were leaning over the side, gawking at her. Dear God. She'd almost been crushed. That would have made for an extremely sucky first-Christmas-without-Gram, positive attitude notwithstanding.

  Her lungs heaved, trying to catch her breath, as she became gradually aware that she was lying on top of a warm body, not the hard ground, and that those arms were still locked around her waist.

  She looked down at the hands clasped around her belly, and saw the worn black cuffs of a certain calf-length jacket she had just been gawking at a few minutes ago. Oh, crap. The hot sheriff had saved her? Heat rose in her cheeks as she twisted around to look behind her.

  Sure enough, playing the role of her landing pad, was the same untamed, intensely male sheriff who had been watching her so carefully just a moment ago. It was his hard, hot body beneath her, and his booted foot between her calves. He grinned, flashing her a smile that made heat tingle all the way to her frozen toes. "Welcome to Rogue Valley. My name's Sheriff Wilson…" He paused. "But you can call me Dane."

  Like it? Get it now!

  Sneak Peek: Unintentionally Mine

  She was like an angel in the night.

  Harlan couldn't take his gaze off Emma as he cut the engine, letting his boat drift in toward her dock. He'd been out for one last tour of the lake, one last night to remember the town that he'd made his home for the last five years. He'd expected to feel relief, but he hadn't. He'd felt strangely melancholy, as if he was leaving before he was supposed to. Instinct had taken him past Emma's small cabin, as he'd done on so many other sleepless nights.

  This time, for the first time in two years, she'd been outside, even though it was past midnight. The way she'd been huddled up in that huge blanket had caught his attention, as if she were a broken bird stranded on land. He hadn't intended to approach. Hadn't planned to say anything. But the boat had drifted right toward her anyway.

  "Harlan?" She grabbed the bow of his boat as it bumped her dock, jerking him back to the present.

  He caught one of the pilings on her dock, anchoring the boat as the blanket slid off her shoulders. In the moonlight, he could tell she was wearing a white tank top with straps so thin they looked like they would snap under the faintest breeze. Her black shorts were boldly short, revealing so much more leg than he'd ever seen from the woman who wore long skirts and blue jeans every day of her life, or at least on every day that he'd seen her. Her hair was down, tangled around her shoulders, as if it were caressing the skin she'd so carelessly exposed to the night.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked. Her voice was throaty and raw, and he realized she'd been crying.

  "Couldn't sleep." He leaned on the piling, not daring to get out of the boat, not when the need to play the hero was pulsing through him so strongly. All he could think of was folding her into his arms and chasing away the demons haunting her. "You?"

  "Same." She hugged herself, her huge eyes searching his. The moonlight cast dark shadows on her face, hollowing out her eyes and her cheeks.

  "Want a ride?" He asked the question without intending to, but found himself holding his breath while it sat in the air, waiting for her response.

  "To where?"

  He shrugged. "Nowhere. I'm just driving."

  She looked back at her cabin. "I was just—"

  "Crying. I know. Going back inside will help, do you think? Or maybe getting the hell away from life for twenty minutes would be better?"

  Defiance flared in her eyes, and her shoulders seemed to lift. Without a word, she grabbed the corner of his windshield and set her bare foot on the edge of his boat. Silently, he held out his hand to the woman he'd never touched in all the years he'd known her, except for last night. She met his gaze, and then set her hand in his.

  Jesus. Her skin was like the softest silk, decadent in its fragility, tempting in its strength. He closed his fingers around hers and helped her into his boat. Her hip slid against his side as she stepped in, and electricity sizzled through him.

  She caught her breath, glancing at him as she moved away to sit in the passenger seat.

  Harlan said nothing. He had no idea what to say. Not to her. Not to this woman. Not in this moment. So, instead, he restarted the boat, backed up until he was clear of her dock, and then unleashed the throttle. The boat leapt forward, slicing through the water with a boldness that was probably irresponsible in the dark.

  But he knew the lake, every inch of it, and the moonlight was bright enough to guide him.

  He didn't feel like being careful. Not tonight. Tonight he wanted wind. He wanted water. He wanted freedom.

  And he wanted the woman sitting in his boat.

  A woman he had no right to want.

  A woman who had haunted his dreams since the moment he'd first met her.

  As if feeling the intensity of his gaze, Emma glanced over at him. The moment she saw the expression on his face, her face paled in the moonlight, and she sucked in her breath.

  Shit. She knew now how much he burned for her. His face had given it away.

  She jerked her gaze off his and stared across the lake, not acknowledging what had just happened.

  But she knew. Son of a bitch, she knew.

  The boat ride had just changed irrevocably.

  Like it? Get it now!

  Sneak Peek: Darkness Seduced

  Lily ducked past her assailant and sprinted up the cement stairs, her bare feet slapping on the concrete, her heart thundering in her ears as she vaulted up the steps toward the open door. She jumped through it then whirled around and threw it shut, catching a glimpse of the Calydon warrior as he came after her. She slammed the bolt home then tore down the hallway. There was a shuddering explosion behind her as the Calydon burst through the wooden door. She skidded around a corner as her mind whirred. She'd never make it to the kitchen. She needed to stall him—

  She screamed as a heavy, sweaty body tackled her and her chin smashed on the wood floor. Her head rattled
with the impact as she was flung onto her back, and Lily saw the Calydon leer at her chest. Lust flared in his eyes, the raw, uncontrollable sexual greed of a Calydon. She jerked her gaze down and realized he'd torn her shirt when he'd tackled her.

  Terror, raw visceral terror, tore through Lily, and for a split second, she was too numb to move, too terrified by the memories, by the moment, by what had happened before. Just like this. Again. God, not again.

  He reached for her breast, and the sight of that hand coming toward her jerked Lily out of her stupor and galvanized her into frantic self-defense, a chance she hadn't had all those years ago. "No!" she screamed. She slammed her foot into his crotch as hard as she could.

  Her attacker shouted and doubled over, and Lily scrambled out from under him, lurching to her knees—

  He grabbed her ankle and dragged her back toward him, his grip crushing her leg. "I have to bring you back alive and able to perform," he ground out as he tried to catch his breath from her blow. "But those are all the limitations I have on what I do with you."

  She fought, she kicked, she tried everything, and she was no match for his strength as he yanked her across the floor, back toward him, toward the lust gleaming in his eye—

  Oh, crap. His eyes. They were glowing red, pulsating with evil, and her heart stuttered.

  He'd gone rogue. He'd crossed the line from sanity into raging, crazed killer, a beast who would feel no pain, have no empathy, ravage mercilessly until there was nothing left. There was no compassion, no humanity left in this warrior. No matter what his orders, she was doomed now. He wouldn't be able to stop himself.

  Again. It would all happen again. Just like before—

  "Get off me," Lily screamed, scrabbling desperately for a handhold to try to get away from him. Her fingers hit a table leg and a cord. Tears streaking down her cheeks, she yanked on the cord and covered her face as a lamp crashed down on both of them, shattering glass everywhere. Oblivious to the glass, he grabbed her other calf and hauled her until her legs were around his waist, her back slicing across the broken glass as she fought him, desperate, frantic—