The Bachelor Boss
Page 17
But now, looking at the place her niece and nephew had called home, Jenna wasn’t sure she agreed with either description.
“Are we getting out, Aunt Jenna?” Logan ventured.
Jenna realized she hadn’t moved.
“Of course we are.” Forcing a smile, she slid out of the driver’s seat and went around to open Tori’s door. “You’re first, Button.”
A corner of the blanket dropped, unveiling a pair of periwinkle eyes that stared back at her with guarded apprehension.
Jenna recognized the look of someone who no longer trusted easily, and her heart wrenched. Within the space of a few weeks the little girl had been separated from her mother and then from Kate Nichols, the foster care mother she’d become attached to, before being placed in Jenna’s care.
“It’s okay, Tori.” Logan patted his sister’s hand and the sweetness of the gesture pierced Jenna’s soul.
How many times had she comforted Shelly when they were growing up? Protected her from danger—both imaginary and real?
Jenna mentally pushed the thought away. Her life was different now. She was different now.
She reached for the buckle on the booster seat but Tori shrank back.
“Don’t wanna get out!”
Jenna hesitated, wondering if the little girl was remembering the night of the fire. Once again, the reality of what she’d agreed to flooded through her, eroding her confidence. She wasn’t a child psychologist. She wasn’t even the type of person that small children flocked to.
When it came right down to it, Jenna knew she was everything that two traumatized children didn’t need.
But right now, she was all they had.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Jenna summoned the bright, confident smile that had taken her from proofreader to Twin City Trend’s most popular columnist.
Tori leaned over and whispered something in her brother’s ear.
“She’s afraid of wolves.” To his credit, Logan didn’t laugh.
Jenna bent down and looked her niece in the eye. “You don’t have to worry about wolves, sweetheart. They stay away from people.”
Tori’s gaze fixed on something over Jenna’s shoulder. “Even that one?”
That one?
Jenna whirled around and felt her knees buckle.
An enormous animal, its shaggy coat a mottled patchwork of grays and browns, was slinking down the shoreline.
Keep going, keep going.
Almost as if it had heard Jenna’s silent plea, the creature paused for a moment and lifted its nose to the wind.
The wedge-shaped head swung in their direction.
Jenna’s breath gathered in her lungs as the animal changed direction and started to lope toward them.
* * *
Devlin McGuire had just finished unloading the last of the gear from his SUV when he heard a muffled shriek near the lake.
Definitely human. Unmistakably feminine.
Mirror Lake, both the town and the small body of water it had been named after, didn’t attract many tourists in the summer but Dev had noticed lights in the windows of the vacant cabin next door the last time he’d been home.
He had hoped his new neighbors would have moved on by the time he returned, but apparently they were sticking around a little longer. Soaking up some sun and enjoying the peace and quiet of the lake.
Something Dev would have appreciated himself right about now.
Shouldering his canvas backpack, he took a step toward the cabin. Less than ten yards away, a shower with hot water waited. And a porterhouse steak in the freezer…
Another shriek. This one sent a flock of crows swirling into the air like smoke from a black powder rifle—and carried a distinct edge of panic.
Dev decided the porterhouse could wait a few more minutes.
Making his way through the narrow strip of woods that separated the two cabins, he caught a glimpse of a vehicle parked in the driveway. As he stepped into the clearing for a better look, he stopped short at the sight that greeted him.
A young woman sat on the hood—the hood—of a sleek, charcoal gray Audi, peering down at something…
Oh, no.
At the base of the front left tire, Dev spotted a large animal stretched out on the ground.
Adrenaline surged through his veins and carried him forward. He sprinted across the yard, boots crunching over the patches of sun-scorched grass.
The woman’s head jerked up.
A shimmering curtain of silver blond hair parted to reveal the kind of face that ordinarily graced the cover of celebrity magazines. Porcelain skin. High cheekbones. Big blue eyes that, if it were possible, seemed to get even bigger when he skidded up to the car.
“What happened?” Dev ground out.
“It…it just came out of nowhere—”
Tourists.
Dev wasted a precious second to scowl at the woman. “How fast were you going, anyway?”
“Fast? I wasn’t…I didn’t hit it. I was—” A low growl snipped off the rest of the sentence and the woman skittered backward.
Dev dropped to his knees and the shaggy head snapped around, fangs bared around the object locked between its jaws.
Relief mixed with the adrenaline as Dev came face-to-face with a pair of intelligent, albeit guilty, brown eyes.
“Violet, no. Drop it.”
“Violet?” the woman squeaked.
“That’s her name.” Dev held out his hand and received a soggy shoe with a ridiculously high heel in return. He scrubbed a thumb over a tooth mark in the leather, winced when it didn’t come out. “I’m sorry she scared you. Violet might be the size of a Volkswagen Bug, but she’s harmless.”
“It…it looks like a wolf.”
Which explained why she’d taken refuge on the hood of her car. Sort of.
“Your average timber wolf doesn’t wear a collar.” Dev buried his hand in the thick ruff of fur around the dog’s neck and jingled a pink, heart-shaped tag as proof.
“I thought she was going to attack me.”
Dev arched a brow. “So you threw a shoe at her?”
“I didn’t throw it. It…fell off.” She was glaring at him now, not Violet.
Dev was getting the distinct impression that the blame had somehow shifted from the dog to its owner.
Violet bumped his arm, her pink tongue unfurling in a cheerful doggy grin, content to let him clean up the mess she’d made. Typical.
Dev buried a sigh and reached out his hand to help the woman down.
She didn’t move.
It occurred to Dev that he probably looked a little…rough. A razor hadn’t touched his face for over a week and his camo fatigues had been washed in a spring—
The breeze shifted and Dev saw the straight little nose twitch.
—And dried by the campfire.
Yup. Now she thinks you’re a serial arsonist.
He scraped up some of the manners that had gotten a little rusty from lack of use.
“I’m Dev McGuire.”
“Jenna—” Her lips compressed as if she regretted revealing that much information. “Just…Jenna.”
Dev wondered what he could say to reassure her that neither he—nor his dog—were a threat.
“I live next door.”
Eyes as blue as the forget-me-nots scattered along the shoreline fixed on a point beyond his shoulder, as if she were gauging the distance between the two places.
Now she moved. Away from him.
Dev’s lips tipped in a rueful smile.
Apparently that wasn’t it.
ISBN: 9781459235458
Copyright © 2012 by Judy Duenow
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