by Lori Foster
Her lips were soft and warm, slightly parted. She made a sexy, husky sound in the back of her throat and immediately, urgently squeezed closer, her arms twining around his neck, her breasts pressing to his chest.
Tucker turned his head for a better fit, licked along her lips until she opened her mouth, then he kissed her as he wanted, his tongue sliding over hers, learning her taste, absorbing her warmth. Possessing her.
Both of them breathed harder.
Who knew how far things might’ve gone if she hadn’t rushed him, if her arms hadn’t squeezed tight—and if his shoulder hadn’t made him cringe, just a little, from the ache.
She levered back, her confused gaze flicking over his face, then focusing on his shoulder. She leaned half over him, inspecting...and gasped in renewed upset. “Tucker Turley, you’re hurt.”
* * *
KADY IGNORED TUCKER’S continued grumbling as the ER doc looked over the X-ray. The bruising on his shoulder was awful, going partway down his back, spreading over the top of his shoulder as if reaching for his neck, and crawling down over one pec muscle.
A really hot, nicely defined pec muscle.
Actually, his whole chest was amazing. It made her warm to see him sitting there on the table, his posture casual as if he weren’t turning black and blue, his expression disgruntled.
His upper body bare.
Sparse dark hair feathered over his chest from one flat brown nipple to the other, then narrowed down his body, played around his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his—
“Kady.”
At his deep voice, she looked up—and flushed. His pointed stare reminded her that they weren’t alone and that she shouldn’t be ogling him.
The doctor turned on his stool, one brow raised, looking at each of them over his glasses.
Tucker released her from that intimidating stare to say to the doctor, “Okay if I get dressed now?”
By way of a nonanswer, the doctor—who was a friend of her Uncle Sawyer and a very nice man—stood and approached Tucker, putting one hand on his shoulder, the other on his elbow as he checked the arm’s mobility. Tucker tried not to flinch, the stubborn fool. She just hoped nothing was broken.
Then the doctor relieved the worst of her fears.
“You have a severe contusion. No breaks, luckily. You’ll leave here in a sling. Wear it, and make sure your arm stays level with the ground to take the strain off your injury.” With that no-nonsense explanation, the doc frowned at him over his glasses. “You’ll wear the sling for five days, then see me for a follow-up and evaluation. If all goes well, you’ll start range of motion exercises after that.” He gave Tucker a pat and stepped away. “Use an ice pack for twenty minutes every two hours tonight and tomorrow, except when you’re sleeping.” Sounding stern, he added, “Rest it, understand?”
“Sure.”
Kady squared her shoulders. “I’ll see that he takes it easy.”
Incredulous green eyes shifted her way, but thankfully, Tucker didn’t reject her on the spot.
The doctor gave a satisfied nod. “I’ll give you a script for pain—”
“No need.” In an obvious hurry to go, Tucker stood and reached for the black T-shirt she’d given him.
“The pain will get worse before it gets better,” the doc warned.
“I’ll take some OTC meds. It’ll be fine.”
“Stubborn,” the doctor muttered, mirroring her opinion. “I’ll send in the nurse with the sling. She’ll set your follow-up.”
“Thank you,” Kady called as he went out the door, because Tucker was obviously too grouchy to show any gratitude.
Hands on hips, she turned to Tucker, saw him starting to slide his injured arm into a sleeve and jumped to help him. “Let me.”
He tried to turn away, but he wasn’t quick enough. Submitting, he muttered, “This is not a good idea.”
Deliberately misunderstanding, she said, “I’ll be careful,” and eased the armhole around his hand, up his wrist and past his elbow.
He glared down at her. “Little late for that.”
She could only ignore so much! “Because of a kiss?” she scoffed, even as her stomach tingled from the memory of the firm press of his lips, the stroke of his tongue, the scent of his skin and the tantalizing press of his body.
He’d been hurt protecting her.
The knowledge humbled her, and she sighed. “Don’t be silly.” With the shirt up his injured arm, he easily slid in the other and then, together, they got it over his head.
Behind them the door opened. She expected the nurse, but it was Deputy Moody Egan, a guy she’d gone through school with, hat in hand, stammering an apology at finding them so close together.
On the way to the hospital, Tucker had calmly called in the accident and told his men to watch for a fast car racing into town. Kady hoped they got the jerk.
After all, it was because of him that Tucker had a very bruised shoulder and upper arm.
“What is it?” Tucker asked, as he smoothed down the shirt. He didn’t seem embarrassed, but then, it took a lot to get a reaction out of Sheriff Tucker Turley.
“We got him. He blew through town too fast for anyone to grab him, but plenty of locals spotted him and got his license number. Then a trooper from the state police attempted to pull him over. The idiot didn’t stop, but crashed again after about a ten-mile chase.”
Tucker paused, his head coming up, his brows drawn in a frown. “Another crash?”
“Ran into a guardrail and got himself stuck.” Moody grinned. “No one was hurt, but they found drugs on the bozo, in his car and probably in his system, from the way he was acting.”
“You don’t say.” Favoring his injured arm, Tucker leaned against the metal bed. “Given the crazy way he was driving in the storm, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“It gets better,” Moody promised. “The passenger side of his car showed evidence of his brush with the weather van. Plus he has an outstanding warrant for parole violation. They arrested him, and it doesn’t sound like he’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”
A slow, devastating smile—at least in Kady’s opinion—spread over Tucker’s face. “Perfect. Someone else grabbing him is the next best thing to me dealing with him myself.” He started for the door.
Kady shook her head. “You’re in no shape to—”
He interrupted her, saying to the deputy, “You can drive me back out to get the SUV?”
“Uh...” Moody looked between them, then cleared his throat. “She already took care of that.”
Tucker went absurdly still. “She?”
Kady felt guilty heat scorch her cheeks, but she faked a bold confidence. “While you were being x-rayed, I arranged for someone to get your ride.” Smile as bright as she could make it, she stated, “I’ll drive you home.”
He turned to stare at her as if she’d spoken in a foreign language, then he gave his attention back to the deputy. “Where did the SUV go?”
“Your house,” she answered. “Even though you shouldn’t attempt driving—”
Again he ignored her. “Keys are with it?”
Moody’s gaze continued to bounce back and forth in a panicked ping-pong. “Yes, sir.”
Uh-oh, Kady thought. Bringing out the “sir” in an otherwise casual department meant Tucker was likely more annoyed than he showed.
But then, he always hid his emotions well.
Except for when he’d kissed her. Remembering gave her new purpose, and she launched into action. “Go on,” she said to Moody, shooing him away. “I’ll see that Tucker gets home safely.”
Eyes widening, the deputy looked at the sheriff.
Tucker’s jaw clenched before he visibly relaxed and nodded. “Thanks, Moody.”
With that polite dismissal plain, Kady watched the deputy retreat with alacr
ity. Pleased that she’d gotten her way, she hooked her arm through Tucker’s on his uninjured side and smiled up at him. “You must be hungry and tired. And your shoulder has to be hurting.” She led him through the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
When he smiled down at her, a really serene, sort of knowing smile, she started to worry.
Kady frowned. “What?”
Now he was leading her. “You can drive me home, but you’re not feeding me.”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t mind—”
“Obviously not, since you went to all the trouble to set this up.” He glanced at her. “But Gabe will.”
When her feet froze, Tucker urged her onward.
“Dad doesn’t know about any of this.”
“He will.” Automatic doors slid open as they reached them, and they stepped out into the damp, dark night. Tucker inhaled a deep breath, glanced around the lot and finally spotted the van. As he headed in that direction, almost dragging her along now, he said, “Just as soon as I call him.”
CHAPTER TWO
BRINGING OUT THE big guns was a desperate move, but then, he was a desperate guy. He’d already kissed her once, and Tucker knew if she stuck around, which she seemed determined to do, he’d cave again.
If that happened—in the privacy of his home—God only knew what might happen. He couldn’t risk it.
He’d awakened the man to rat her out, and Gabe sounded properly concerned over the phone despite Tucker’s repeated assurances that she hadn’t been hurt.
“She’s dropping me off,” Tucker said, watching Kady’s profile, “and then she’ll be heading home. Yeah, I’m sure she’ll call you once she’s safely back at her apartment.”
As he spoke, Kady’s expression turned downright surly, but she also looked hurt—and damn it, that hurt him, too.
“No problem,” Tucker said in reply to Gabe thanking him for the call. “I figured you’d want to know that she was fine before the gossip got around.” In a town the size of Buckhorn, any and all happenings spread like wildfire. Tucker had no doubt that Gabe would have been getting calls from relatives and neighbors alike first thing in the morning.
It was better that he heard it straight from Tucker...right?
He looked at Kady again. Console lights on the van glowed over her face and made a halo of her pale, tangled hair. She should have looked a mess in the baggy clothes, smudged makeup and sour expression.
Instead, she looked adorable.
He winced at a bump in the road, but quickly smoothed his expression when she glanced at him.
The tires hissed on the wet pavement, occasionally sending up a spray from puddles to further drench the trees lining the road. Gray clouds tumbling over the dark sky concealed any trace of the moon. The silence grew heavy.
“Gabe wants you to call when you’re headed home.”
“I heard.”
Her clipped voice didn’t alleviate the tension. “You know I had to call him.”
No reply, but her hands tightened on the wheel.
Tucker adjusted, trying to find a comfortable position. They’d be to his house in another five minutes, and though he’d instigated the tension, he didn’t want to leave it this way. “It was the respectful thing to do.”
“No,” she corrected. “It was the cowardly thing to do.”
“Cowardly?” He should have been insulted, but instead, he was curious. Plus he’d rather have her complaints over her silence any day. “How do you figure that?”
“I’m twenty-five, and I’ve been living on my own since I was nineteen. Dad assumed I was home in bed, as he should. He was home in bed.”
“Yes, but—”
“I could have explained everything tomorrow, but instead you woke him, and now he’ll worry until he knows I’ve locked myself inside my apartment. And for what? Because you were afraid I might take advantage of you?” She snorted. “Cowardly.”
Tucker straightened. “I wasn’t worried about you taking advantage.” He was worried about his own control, about resisting her.
“And you know what?” She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I probably would have tried for another kiss. I, at least, thought the kiss was nice.”
“Nice?” Now that was just plain insulting. It’d been a hell of lot more than nice to him.
“Very nice. The nicest kiss I’ve ever gotten.” She glanced at him again. “Not that I’ve had that many.”
It was his turn to snort. “A woman who looks like you?”
“Is that a compliment?” She smiled. “Thank you.”
“A woman who flirts as much as you do?”
She shrugged. “You say flirting, I say being nice. But—” She slowed to turn the corner. “I haven’t been kissed many times at all.”
Not knowing what to think of that, Tucker said, “Define many.”
“If you must know...” Suddenly, she clammed up.
“Yes?”
Muttering now, she said, “I’m selective, that’s all.”
“How many, Kady?”
“Let’s just say I could tally them all with the fingers on my own two hands.”
“Ten?” No way. He wasn’t buying it. “So none of your boyfriends were into kissing?”
“What boyfriends?” she replied easily enough. “I haven’t had a boyfriend, not since high school.”
He was definitely calling bullshit on that one. “I’ve seen you on dates.” And it always bugged the hell out of him. “You can’t deny it. You and...” He couldn’t think of the clown’s name. “...that one doofus—you were at the last fishing competition together.”
Her mouth twitched. “Denny is not a doofus.”
“Has a hell of a ring to it.” He repeated thoughtfully, “Denny is not a doofus.”
“He’s not. Actually, he’s a terrific guy, but he was never my boyfriend. We went to the competition dutch. As friends.”
Denny was a doofus, but he was still a man, and Tucker couldn’t believe the guy didn’t try for a kiss at the very least. “There’s no way—”
“How many women have you kissed?”
He verbally tripped, surprised that she’d turned things around on him. “Hell, I don’t know.” At least she’d only asked about kissing, not sex.
“Too many to count?” she challenged.
“It’s not that there were so many, but since I started kissing girls in grade school, recalling them all might be tough.”
“Grade school?”
Tucker shrugged. “It’s nice.” Maybe he should show her. “Let’s just say—”
“Oh my God.” When she braked, the van swerved, but she expertly maneuvered the vehicle, her hands moving fast on the wheel. This time she tapped the brakes and brought the van to a halt at the side of the road.
Tucker didn’t have to ask her what had happened.
There, caught in the headlights in the middle of the road, was a small yellow dog, covered in mud, shivering and staring at them. The rain had let up, but the dog was already soaked.
The van idled. “No collar,” she whispered.
Twisting, Tucker reached for the door handle with his right hand. “Stay put.” But as he got out, the dog whined and took several steps to the side of the road...then stopped and waited again.
By the looks of her, not only was the dog female, but she’d recently given birth. His heart twisted. God, it was a miserable night for such a thing.
“It’s okay, girl,” he crooned, inching closer.
The dog didn’t look scared, but she did sidle away again, all the while watching Tucker expectantly.
“Where you going, sweetie?”
She waited.
“Want me to follow?” He did, slowly, crouched low, one hand stretched out.
The dog moved again, and he hear
d it—whimpering from a bush.
Behind him, a door opened and closed, and then Kady was there, the muddy towels in her hands. “Should I try to catch her?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
Her hand touched his forearm. “We can’t leave her.”
“No, we won’t.” He slowly moved forward. “Whatcha got there, girl? You wanna show me something?”
The dog waited until he was close and then burrowed under the bush. Tucker was wondering what to do, how he was going to crawl under there with his injured shoulder, when the dog emerged again, a fat, wiggling, wet ball of fur in her mouth. She set the baby in front of him and went under the bush again.
“Ooooh,” Kady cried softly.
He knelt on the wet ground. The baby couldn’t be more than a day old. It blindly searched for its mama.
“Do you have a box in the van?” Tucker asked. “Something we can put them in?” He had no doubt there were more puppies.
“Yes, I think so. Be right back.” She ran off, her sneakers making slapping sounds on the wet pavement.
The dog brought out another puppy, then two more. Tucker carefully moved them onto the towels, being as gentle as possible. “That’s a good mama,” he praised the worried dog. “Such a good mama.” He carefully stroked her head and she let him, worriedly sniffing the puppies and the towel and watching him, hoping, he knew, that he’d give her some help.
Kady cautiously returned with the box. She’d lined it with her discarded clothes from earlier. “Hey, baby,” she said to the dog, her voice soft and sweet.
The dog scooted closer to Tucker.
“Aww,” Kady whispered. “She likes you.”
“Hopefully she likes you, as well.” He wasn’t sure he could manage that box, damn it, not with his arm already thumping. “Poor thing is soaked through. We need to get her and the pups out of this weather.”
“At least it’s warm.” Kady, too, knelt in the mud and began carefully moving the animals into the box. The worried mama fretted, going back and forth, getting near the box, then darting away.