by Aria Scott
She peppered me with questions, “Is he as hot in person? Did you exchange phone numbers with him? Are you going to see him again?”
“What? No.” I shook my head. “Chase sped off in a fit of anger. He’s a jackass anyway. Always has been.”
She frowned and touched my arm in sympathy. “Aww. Too bad nothing happened. Is that what’s had you looking so glum all night?”
“No! I could care less about Chase Wilder.” She looked like she didn’t believe a word I said. “Actually, I got an official letter from the city today. They’re shutting down my shelter. For good.”
“Oh my God! But you just got started! What are you going to do?” The obvious dismay in her voice and on her face was real. Lisa knew how hard I had worked on that shelter. Maybe more than anyone, she knew just how much it meant to me.
“I’m not sure yet.” I really hadn’t had the chance to process it yet. All during my shift I had been going over it in my head. I was so sick with worry that I hadn’t even been able to start formulating a plan of action.
It was then that Scott, our manager, came by and gave us ‘the look’. The look that told us without words to get back to work.
Lisa grabbed my arm before we parted. “A bunch of us are going to the Wild Pony after work. Come out tonight. You need to relax a little - forget your problems.”
My response was practically reflexive. “I can’t. The dogs--”
She interrupted my excuse. “Go home and take care of the dogs. Then come out and meet us at the bar. You deserve to get out every once in awhile. You haven’t been out in months. How are you ever going to meet any men all cooped up with your dogs all the time?”
After the awful day I had, I could use a fun night out. And, it had been an awfully long time since I had treated myself. “Okay, I will.”
“Perfect.” She grinned. “Oh, and put on something a little bit cuter than your usual get up. It’ll cheer you up.”
Chapter 5
Chase
“Damn, I need a drink,” I muttered.
My brother Luke and I were sitting at a table inside the Wild Pony, a bar just outside of town, along Highway 54. The place was packed, with guys in flannels and girls in tight skinny jeans hanging around the bar, or busting a groove on the dance floor. Up on the stage, a country band was singing about cowboys and ambushed hearts, the song nearly drowning out the rowdy conversation around us. I remembered coming here during college breaks, but not since I’d been drafted into pro football.
The place hadn’t changed one bit.
A cheerleader-type in a cowboy hat and short plaid skirt stopped by our table. “What’ll you have?”
I rubbed my eyes, dragged my hand down my face, tried to feel enthusiastic. The fact that I had to find a phony bride left me somewhere between pissed and exhausted.
Luke took one swift look at me and then ordered for us both. “Two beers.”
“What kind?”
“You pick.”
She smiled perkily and headed off to the bar.
Luke fixed his gaze on me. His eyes were so dark brown that in the right lighting, they appeared black. In the Wild Pony’s dim bluish lights, they looked like Satan’s. At the moment, he was flashing me his trademark devil-may-care grin, and I felt the persuasive pull of it.
Normally I fought against his charisma because I didn’t like getting yanked around by a smile, but tonight, I was glad to see it. Luke had completed four tours in Afghanistan before losing one leg below the knee and getting sent home. This was the first time I’d seen him since he’d returned, and I’d been expecting all sorts of bad things from him—anxiety, depression, flashbacks, you name it. But he looked good. The ladies definitely appreciated him...I saw several throw longing looks at our table.
“You think I’m going to find someone here?” I asked, my gaze roving over a sea of tight tank tops, short skirts with cowboy boots, and long, silky hair. “They look young. Like jailbait.”
My brother lifted one dark eyebrow. “You want young, don’t you?”
I thought about it for a few seconds, remembered what Joe Caifano had said. “Young, old, it doesn’t matter. I won’t be banging her. What I need is good. Shouldn’t we go to a library?”
“You want to find somebody, you go to the local watering hole,” Luke insisted.
“You learn that in detective school?” I figured Luke’s new private investigator’s license and the business he was building had something to do with his upbeat mood.
“That and more.” He nodded toward two chicks who had just walked in. They were hot, with a nice ass on each of them, but they had that stuck-up look of women who were used to being catered to. “How about them?” he asked.
I considered, then shook my head. “They don’t look...desperate enough.”
He turned a surprised stare my way. “Desperate enough? You’re a professional football player, under contract with one of the biggest teams in the league. What else do you need?”
“This is going to be a marriage in name only,” I reminded him. “She’s going to have to sign a prenup that essentially says she gets nothing when we divorce a few months down the road.”
Luke’s smile faltered.
The smile that curved my own lips had more cynicism than humor in it. “Now you’re getting it.”
Just then, our waitress showed up with two bottles of domestic beer. She slung it toward us, gave us another perky smile, and then strutted off in her cowboy boots. I watched her, appreciating the view as she approached another customer. When she turned and snuck a little wink at me, I grinned.
“Bristol’s not your type,” my brother commented dryly.
“Bristol?”
“The waitress.”
“You drink here a lot?”
“I’m a PI, bro,” he said. “I make it my business to know what’s going on.”
“So, what’s going on?” I glanced around at the women who were making their way from the dance floor to various tables. The band had taken a break, leaving room for everyone to check each other out. I saw young, old, cute, homely...just about everything under the sun. But I couldn’t see either good or desperate. “You know any woman who would make me a decent wife?”
He took a swig of beer. I followed suit. The beer tasted malty, bitter, just a step better than piss.
“Well, there’s Brittany Wheeler,” he offered, nodding toward a tall blonde in a plain gray T-shirt. She had her hair up in a bun, had a nice set of biceps, and didn’t look like the kind of woman you wanted to fuck with. “I hear her dad’s in the hospital with a stroke, going to need months of rehab,” he continued. “I could find out what kind of insurance he has. If the bills are piling up, she might be a possibility.”
“You make it sound so damned businesslike.”
He shrugged. “Isn’t this a business deal?”
I suddenly had a bad taste in my mouth. Leave it to Luke to point out the shittiest aspects of any situation. Frowning, I checked her out more closely. “She has a good reputation?”
“Never heard anything negative about her.”
I shook my head no. She seemed too hard, somehow. Not enough sex appeal. “She’s not really my type.”
“I thought you weren’t going to be banging her.”
My frown deepening, I chugged about a quarter of my beer.
We were silent for a minute or so, with both of us continuing to scan the crowd.
“How about Hailey Robertson?” he eventually asked, nodding toward a brunette in skinny jeans and tight T-shirt. “She’s hot, and she’s single, with a kid at home. And better yet, I don’t think Daddy is meeting his child support obligations.”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“You’re not sounding very enthusiastic.”
“This is just so friggin’ cold,” I admitted.
“But your career’s on the line, so you have to do it,” he reminded me.
I nodded and finished off the rest of my beer. Luke signaled the waitres
s, who had another brew in front of me in less than a minute flat. She gave me a smile and another wink as she walked away, shaking her booty as she did so.
“Why isn’t the waitress my type?” I asked. “Bristol, right?”
“She’s involved with a dude from the Heathens. You want to end up dead, you go ahead and hang around with her.”
My shoulders slumping, I looked around the bar some more. The band was warming up, and couples were forming. I tossed around the idea of asking the brunette my brother had pointed out to dance, then decided against it. I just wasn’t ready to take that step.
Just as the band started playing, the door opened and two women walked in. I glanced that way, not really seeing them, and then noticed a halo of red hair shining in those dim lights. My gaze zeroed in on them. My eyes widened.
Full breasts, barely hidden beneath a white T-shirt that read “Priceless.”
Long legs and a tight ass sashaying in a flirty short skirt.
Cowboy boots.
I recognized her instantly as the chick with the ducklings. The one who had nearly killed me and wrecked the ‘stang. I swallowed, aware that my pulse was suddenly jacked up.
She had a brunette with her. The pair moved into the crowd and were briefly swallowed by a wave of people. I craned my neck, tried to keep her in sight. When the crowd cleared, I realized they’d taken a table not too far away. I took the opportunity to study her face.
Pale skin, some freckles. Full pink lips and a smallish nose. Big green eyes.
The guys in here are gonna eat her alive.
The thought came out of nowhere. I had a sudden urge to get her the hell out of there.
My brother must have noticed my interest, because he turned to stare in the direction of my gaze. “You’re looking at the redhead, right?”
I smiled. Luke knew about my preference for redheads. “Do you know her?”
“That’s Aubrey O’Malley, with Lisa Donovan. They’re waitresses over at Lucy’s Grub Hut.”
“Married?”
“Both single.” Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you remember Aubrey from high school?”
I examined her more closely as I dredged through flashbacks to my teens. Watched as she smiled at her friend, her lips curving so sweetly. I thought about those lips curving around something else and got hard.
What a fantasy!
I forced my thoughts back to the past. Recalled cheerleaders, jocks, nerds, burnouts...but no green-eyed, redheaded sex kittens. “I never knew her.”
“You serious?” He seemed amazed.
“Back in the day, if I’d ever seen a chick as hot as Aubrey, she’d have been jack-off material for a month. I wish I’d known her.” I paused, then added, “I damned near hit her this morning on the way to physical therapy. She was trying to keep me from running over some ducklings.” I went on to give him the short version of what had happened, which left him shaking his head.
“Yeah, that’s Aubrey. She’s always saving someone. You went to high school with her.” Luke paused, cocked his head. “You must have known her...your class size was pretty small.”
I went silent for a moment. High school? All at once, an image of a frizzy-haired, chubby redhead with braces formed in my head.
“Damn, I do remember her,” I admitted.
She’d tutored me in math. In the tenth grade, maybe. She’d had zits and had spoken so softly, I’d almost had to sit on top of her to hear her. At the time, I’d thought of her as the standard Brainiac-type who preferred books to boys and would throw herself off a cliff if she didn’t get an A+. She’d really helped me get through a hard class, but she hadn’t been the type I’d have ever looked twice at.
He smiled. “How times have changed.”
“Holy shit, they sure did.” I fixed my attention on her again, saw her laugh at something her friend said. “What’s her story?”
“Well, she’s single, and she’s still living in Grove,” he said, his tone oddly subdued. “But I don’t think she’s the right one for you.”
I sat up a little straighter. “How do you know her?”
“Ehh...” He toyed with his beer. Seemed reluctant.
“Come on, tell me,” I urged, and got ready for a story about high school sex antics.
“When I got back from Afghanistan, I spent some time in the hospital.” Luke toyed with his beer some more, then looked me straight in the eyes. “Besides waitressing, Aubrey was working with a few rescue dogs. One of them was a therapy dog. She stopped by the hospital while I was recovering from my amputation. Things seemed really bad to me, Chase. Really black. But she and her dog cheered me up.” He paused. Swallowed. “Sometimes I think she saved my life. She’s special.
“Damn.” I thought this over and shook my head, my opinion of her rising several notches despite the duckling clusterfuck. “She can’t be making much money as a waitress,” I mused.
“I’m sure she isn’t,” he agreed. “She’s been trying to open a nonprofit no-kill shelter, so money’s definitely an issue. And last I heard, Frank Lauter and Spencer Cortland were rallying the township to shut her down, permanently. So she’s got legal problems, too.”
I slapped the table triumphantly. “She’s perfect. Introduce us.”
He held up his hands and made a motion to slow me down. “Forget it, bro. Like I said, she’s not the right one.”
I fell back a little, felt stubbornness rising in me. “What? Why?”
“You want the truth?”
“Don’t hold back.”
“The truth is...she’s a nice girl.” He shrugged apologetically. “Too good for the bullshit you’re proposing. And she already has enough trouble in her life. She doesn’t need to be dragged into a fake-ass marriage.”
My brother’s words stung. I frowned, told myself that they’d come from a good place in Luke’s heart. “Nice of you to make that decision for her.”
“She needs to be married to a man who loves her,” he replied flatly.
“Are you dating her?”
He laughed. “Hell, no! She’s like a little sister.”
I chewed on that thought for a minute or so, and felt my interest level in her rise to a ten. Suddenly the thought of a forced marriage and phony bride didn’t seem so terrible. “You going to do anything to stop me, if I decide she’s the one?” I eventually asked.
He sighed, loud and long. “I won’t get in the way, if that’s what you mean.” Then, another pause. He glanced away, stared into his beer. When he finally met my gaze again, he looked determined. “But bro...make sure you don’t hurt her.”
“It’s going to be nothing but business,” I assured him. “When she comes out of this, her money and legal problems will be solved, and that no-kill shelter she wants will be accepting new dogs. Ducklings, too.”
Luke tilted his head. He didn’t appear convinced. “Sometimes it isn’t so easy to separate business and pleasure.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“You oughtta check out some of the other women around here, too,” he urged. “Give yourself more options.”
“If she doesn’t work out, I will.” That’s the kind of guy I was. Once I’d decided on something, I went after it until I got it...whether it was a touchdown or a sexy redhead with a sweet smile.
For the next hour or so, I kept an eye on her table. Luke and I talked about nothing in particular, but I had a hard time keeping up with the conversion. I was too busy watching guy after guy buy her a beer and drag her out on the dance floor. From what I could see, she didn’t seem too interested in any of them, keeping them at arm’s length as she twisted and danced in a way that made me think of fucking her on the spot. Still, I grew more and more sour with each smile she gave them, and wondered if any of them would try to score with her later.
“Are you listening to anything I said?” Luke asked, dragging me from my thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m listening,” I replied, and watched yet another dude show up at her table. Th
is one gave Aubrey’s girlfriend a wet, possessive kiss before dragging her onto the dance floor, leaving Aubrey alone. I noticed other guys at the bar check Aubrey out, and knew that I had to get over there pronto, before someone else got to her first.
“I think I’ll go say hello,” I announced, and got up from the table.
Luke shrugged and shook his head. “Just remember what I said. Don’t hurt her.”
Chapter 6
Aubrey
Lisa leaned towards me from across the table, practically yelling to be heard over the loud country music and the raucous crowd. “Are you having fun?”
I suspected she’d encouraged our male coworkers to ‘cheer me up,’ as this was the first time I had been allowed to sit down in about an hour. Despite my usually severe reluctance to dance because of my two left feet, several of our friends had ignored my protests and swept me onto the dance floor. Three beers later, I wasn’t nearly as concerned about my lack of coordination.
“I’m having a great time. Thanks for making me come out tonight.”
She studied me shrewdly. “You need to get out more often. Have some fun every once in awhile. When’s the last time we went out?”
I picked idly at the paper label on my beer bottle. “I know, it’s been too long. It’s just that I’ve been so busy with the dogs—”
She held up her hand. “Stop. I thought we agreed to not talk about the dog situation for the night. Tomorrow will be soon enough for us to figure out a solution to this mess. Besides, didn’t you get a high school kid to help you out with the dogs? You should be able to get out and have fun for a couple of hours at least. Right?”
She was right. I hadn’t been very social lately. The dogs had been an easy excuse, but they meant the world to me. I felt a bitterness creeping through the numbing effects of the alcohol. “Well, once the city shuts me down, I’ll have all the time in the world to go out.”
She shook her head. “We need something to get the troubles off your mind. Or someone. Take a look around this bar. We’re surrounded by good-looking men.”
I glanced around the room and shrugged noncommittally.