She just about melted. Even the slightest touch from this man made her weak in the knees. She didn’t want to ruin what they had between them, either. The physical connection between them was so good, but was it enough? Last night she’d cried into her pillow.
Dax shot her an impish grin and shrugged an apology. He ambled over to the grill and handed Brad the buns.
“Let’s finish this conversation somewhere a little more private.” Taking her hand, Gabe led her through the kitchen and around the corner into a hallway. “There. That’s better. Away from prying eyes.”
She trailed her thumb over his and tried to give herself a pep talk. She could walk away, say goodbye, and never see this man again except for the occasional barbeque or run-in at the shelter or supermarket. Her throat went thick and she had to work to swallow.
Or she could shut down her burgeoning feelings for him. Get back on track with her original plan for a feel-good fling. Ignore him when he was a jerk and enjoy him when he wasn’t. Her stomach fluttered. That seemed to be the winning idea. She pressed her breasts against his chest and tingled all over. She had one heck of a motivation standing in front of her. Time to get this train back on its track.
She kissed the edge of his mouth. “Is there something you don’t want impressionable ten-year-old eyes to see?”
“I was thinking of saving Dax’s impressionable eyes, but I guess the same goes for Ana.” His lips curved beneath her explorations and his hands got busy with their own. He skimmed his left hand under her lightweight sweater, his palm hot on her ribs. Wrapping his other hand in her hair, he tugged her head back and stared down into her eyes.
“I missed you last night. Marla…?” His forehead wrinkled.
“Yes?”
He blinked, and whatever had been in his eyes disappeared into pure lust. He lowered his head and delivered a bruising kiss. He swept his tongue past her lips, slid it along her own. The way Gabe used his mouth was demanding, rough, and extremely satisfying.
She moaned and wrapped her arms around his back. He tasted of whiskey and spice. She couldn’t get enough.
He pressed her backward until her shoulder blades hit the wall; then he leaned in deeper. His full length was plastered against her, his desire fully apparent.
“Meat’s ready!” Izzy called from the patio.
Gabe raised his head and stared down at her. The edges of his lips twitched. “Did she just…”
Marla burst out laughing. “That she did. Shall we continue this later tonight? My place?”
He nodded as his phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it out and checked the screen. “I’m going to take this in here. Save me some steak?”
Marla nodded. She sagged against the wall as Gabe turned and strode into the guest room two doors down. He adjusted himself as he crossed into the bedroom, and Marla smiled. She pressed her fingers to her swollen lips. Gabe did make her feel young again. Young and exciting and vibrant. She needed to focus on that and not the tiny hollow ball that formed in her stomach whenever he walked away.
She took a step toward the kitchen, then paused. Gabe might not be the only one who needed some adjustments before facing their friends again. She went to the bathroom next to the guest bedroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Mussed hair. Check. Smeared lipstick. Check check. Flushed cheeks. Yep, she’d hit the trifecta for obvious post-makeout signs. She got to work straightening her appearance.
Gabe’s voice rose from the next room. “I don’t care. And if you don’t cut out this bullshit, I’m going to call your P.O. and tell him you’re hanging with criminals. Now, give me the address.”
Marla straightened from the vanity. Address? Criminals? She left the bathroom and stepped in front of the bedroom door.
Gabe pushed his phone into his pocket, his eyebrows lowering when he caught sight of her. “Were you eavesdropping?”
She rolled her eyes. “I was fixing my hair and makeup. Did you get an address for a fight?”
He rested his hands on his lean hips. “Probably not. I don’t have the most reliable source. But I’ll check it out later.”
“Later? It’s happening tonight?”
He strode past her and headed down the hall to the kitchen. “It’s not your concern.”
“You know that’s not true.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop by the counter. “I am very concerned about dog fighting in Crook County.”
He sighed and cupped her shoulders. “Let me rephrase. It’s not your responsibility. You will not be peering in windows or kicking down doors tonight. Got it?”
“And you will be?” She’d learned her lesson at the garage last night, but Gabe still seemed to think he could go off half-cocked with no problem. Yes, she’d trust his chances in a fight a lot better than she would hers, but he was just one man. The hypocrisy of it stung.
“No. I’ll check out the address. If there’s a crowd gathered, I’ll call the cops and wait for them to bust the assholes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If there is a fight, I’ll probably be working late with the animals we recover. I’ll call to let you know.”
That sounded reasonable. It also left Marla feeling useless. “But—”
“Let’s get some lunch.” He turned her and guided her to the patio door. “I have to eat fast and go. I’m helping my cousin patch up his roof this afternoon.”
She let him guide her to a chair at the table. Gabe had a busy day: helping family and fighting crime. Marla had a hair appointment.
She smiled her thanks as Gabe placed a plate of barbeque before her. She picked up her fork and poked at the food. There had to be something she could do.
Gabe was focused on finding the jerk who was running the fights. But what about all the people who patronized them? Who bet on the dogs getting hurt? Even if the police arrested the organizer tonight, there was still too big a willing audience in Crook County supporting the fights.
She’d toyed with the idea of a public awareness campaign. Maybe it was time to up the ante. A shame campaign was what was needed. It would have to be a neighborhood effort. An organized attempt to stigmatize those who supported such a barbaric activity.
And one thing Marla knew she was good at was organizing.
* * * *
“You’re laying the shingles too close together.” Simon shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted up at Gabe and Jethro on the roof. “You’ll run out before the job is done.”
“We’re not going to run out.” Gabe dug into a small box and pulled out some nails. His cousin handed him another shingle and Gabe hammered it into place.
“That row isn’t straight,” his uncle hollered up. “I’m going to get leaks!”
Gabe pulled a nail from between his lips and squeezed it so tightly he was surprised it didn’t bend. “You get up here and do this then. I have better things to be doing on my Sunday afternoon, you know.”
“Bah.” Simon flapped his hand and shuffled back into the house, leaning heavily on his cane.
Gabe cracked his neck. He could have still been at the barbeque with Marla, finding private nooks around Brad and Izzy’s house to get his hands on her. Or better yet, he could have taken her home, let her have her way with him. Instead, he’d tried to be the good guy and all he got was a critique on his shingle-laying skills.
“Pop really is happy you’re helping with this.” Jethro handed him another shingle. “He was always getting on me about fixing the holes, but, well…” His cheeks turned pink and he dug into the box by his thigh. He pulled out a stack of shingles and made sure all the edges were flush against each other.
Gabe raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t have to be embarrassed that you didn’t know how to reshingle a roof.”
“That’s not it,” Jethro said. “I didn’t have the time. When I’m not at work, I want to be somewhere else.”
Gabe
smiled. “With your girl?”
Jethro nodded. “I wish you could meet her. She’s the best. Pretty, funny, nice. And smart, too. She teaches at the middle school. And she has a daughter who is so cute when she comes home in her little uniform. I go over to their house as much as I can.”
A daughter in private school. That had to be expensive. He hoped Jethro knew what he was getting into. “Is it serious?”
Jethro bent his legs and rested his arms on his knees, his back curling. “I think it could be. But she’s talking about moving. Says there’s more opportunity in a city.” He looked out across the yard, his gaze vacant. “But I’d do just about anything for her and her girl.”
Gabe clapped him on the shoulder. “Cheer up. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”
“I guess.”
“Come on,” Gabe said, reaching for the box of nails. “We’re losing daylight. Let’s finish this up.”
Jethro nodded, and the two of them methodically finished laying the shingles. His cousin offered him a drink when they were both back on the ground.
“Thanks, but I need to shower and get ready for tonight.” He placed the box of remaining shingles on the porch. “I’ll leave these with you in case any more leaks pop up.”
Jethro wiped his hands on a blue kerchief. “You got a date tonight you need to get pretty for?”
Gabe huffed a laugh. “I wish. I got a tip about a fight. I’m going to go check it out.”
His cousin tipped his head to the side. “You want help with that?”
“Nah.” Digging his keys from his pocket, Gabe hollered a goodbye to his uncle. The absence of a response didn’t surprise him. “You go have fun with your girl. I’ll see you later.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Jethro turned toward the porch steps. He tossed a wave over his shoulder. “Later, cuz.”
Gabe sped home and hurried through his shower. He reheated some takeout and tried to ignore Dax and his date in the living room. Until he couldn’t. He dumped his plate in the sink and poked his head around the corner. “I don’t even want to know what the coconut oil is for, but not on my leather couch. Got it?”
“Dude, we’re going to make popcorn and watch a movie.” Dax shook his head sadly. He turned to the redhead tucked up beside him. “This is what I have to deal with living with Carl Fredricksen.”
She giggled, and Gabe gritted his teeth. Most of Dax’s references went over his head. “Whatever. I’ll be out late.”
“Sweet,” Dax said. He leaned into his date. “You know, I have heard coconut oil can be—”
Gabe slammed the front door. Damned annoying roommate. Dax was lucky Gabe was anxious to be somewhere else.
He trotted to his car and jumped inside. His contact had sounded sure about tonight. Said he knew several people who were planning on going. By the end of the evening, dog fighting in Crook County would be a thing of the past.
He forced himself to stay at the speed limit as he drove to the abandoned factory ten miles outside of Clarion Township. His headlights caught weeds poking up through the crumbling parking lot, but no other vehicles. By design, he was early. Finding a large enough space between two trees on the side of the lot, he backed the Vellie over the rutted ground and shut off his lights. He hunkered down in his seat and prepared to wait.
The temperature dropped and he pulled on a sweatshirt from the back seat. He checked his watch. 9:10 p.m.. People should have been here by now, at least to start setting up. He eyeballed the factory, but no lights flickered from within. No sounds of dogs barking emerged.
Gabe blew on his hands and rubbed them together. There was still time. It was probably going to be a small fight tonight. Only a couple of dogs. Someone would be here any minute with the animals.
Any minute now.
Gabe’s ass was falling asleep when headlights slanted across the parking lot. He jolted up straight and leaned over his steering wheel. “What the hell?”
He turned his engine over and flashed his lights. The black-and-white rolled to a stop, and Gabe drove out to pull alongside. He rolled down his window and glared at Jerome when the cop stuck his head out the window.
“What are you doing here?” Gabe demanded.
Jerome scratched his jaw. “I suspect the same thing you’re doing. We got a tip there was a fight tonight and I’ve been checking some of the locations. You know, the abandoned buildings far from prying eyes, like you suggested.” Jerome jacked his head around to stare at the factory. “This doesn’t look like the winner tonight.”
“It was supposed to be.” Gabe squeezed the wheel until his fingers ached. “I got a tip that this was the place. They must have called it off when they heard the cops were looking for them tonight.”
Jerome rested his elbow on the window of his cruiser, his posture casual. His voice was anything but. “You got a tip about this place? Care to explain why you didn’t call me and let me in on the fun?”
“I was going to.” Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “When people started showing up, I was going to call the police. I didn’t want to waste your time if it didn’t happen.” And maybe he wanted to get a couple licks in before the black-and-whites showed. He smacked the wheel. Damn it. None of that was happening tonight.
“Uh-huh.”
“Where’d you get your tip?” Gabe asked. There wasn’t a chance in hell his guy had called the cops, but maybe there was someone else with a conscience out there. Someone Gabe could convince to work with him.
“Someone you know.” Jerome disappeared into the darkness of his car before reappearing in the light with a piece of paper in one hand. “I ran into her as she was going door-to-door passing out these flyers. She’d brought in a couple of kids to help her. That woman is determined. She said she was already on her second print run when I talked to her.”
Gabe snatched the paper from his hand, his stomach churning. No. There was no way she could have heard his conversation at lunch and already… He scanned the flyer, heat flushing through his body. Son of a bitch. “End the blight. Stop the fight?”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of rhyming going on in there.” Jerome’s white teeth flashed against his dark skin. “I especially like the bit about fights are not a game, to stop it we need a name, to bring him down, shame. I think it’s a haiku.”
Of course it was. He crumpled the flyer in his fist. “I’ve got to go.”
“First, tell me who gave you the tip.”
“An anonymous call. Blocked number.” Gabe started his engine. He shouldn’t go to Marla’s house like this. Not when he wanted to punch a hole in her wall. But there was no way he was bottling up his anger over her latest screw-up. And she’d damned well better not be driving around like Jerome was, looking for the fight.
“I don’t think I believe you,” Jerome said.
“I don’t care.” He pulled around the cruiser and headed out of the parking lot. Jerome stayed parked, and when Gabe turned, disappeared from sight.
He left his window down as he hurtled down the highway, hoping the cold air slapping against his face would cool him down.
It didn’t.
Grabbing his phone, he punched in a number that was becoming all too familiar. This would be better over the phone. No beautiful but sad-looking eyes staring into his to make him question his anger. No sexy legs to distract him from his irritation. All important conversations with her should be done via phone, out of sight, touch, and smell.
Marla answered, and Gabe girded himself against the calming effect just hearing her sweet voice had on him. She’d screwed up, he reminded himself. Ruined his best chance at catching the bastards.
“You want to tell me about your little flyers?”
“Gabe?” she asked. “Where are you? Did you find them?”
“No. No, I didn’t find them. Do you want to know why?”
“Uh, sure
.” A dog barked in the background and Marla said, “Not now, Maddie.”
“Wait. Where are you?”
“At home.” A refrigerator door opened. “Are you coming over?”
A beer and an evening with Marla sounded good right about now. He set his jaw. But when people screwed up, they had to be called on their mistakes. “I should be watching some jerk-offs getting put in cuffs right about now. Instead, the fight was called off. Or moved.” Damn, he hoped the organizer hadn’t had time to move it. “And all because you walked all over town with your flyers, letting everyone and their mother know that the fight had been discovered.”
She sucked in a breath. “Oh, I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t.” A car in front of him slowed for a stop sign, and Gabe stomped on his brake. “You didn’t think. This was my best chance to stop the fights. To help those poor dogs that…” That he hadn’t been able to save before. He placed his elbow next to the window and dropped his head into his palm. What a mess. He blew out a breath. She’d meant well, but good intentions didn’t always cut it. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were going to do?”
“Like you talk to me?” she said, her voice icy. “Clearly, our relationship is only about sex. We’re good at that one thing together.”
Gabe rubbed his forehead. She had a fair point. They’d made an arrangement that didn’t include gabbing about each other’s day. He hadn’t included her in his plans; he didn’t have a right to expect anything different from her.
But he wanted different. Sex with Marla was off the charts, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t mind a little pillow talk. Discuss her favorite author. Learn what had happened to Maddie as a puppy. They’d known each other before jumping into this affair, so the dynamics were different from when he hooked up with a stranger. He wasn’t looking to change his status any time soon, but it was time to admit this was more than just a hookup.
“You’re right.” He came to an intersection and flipped on his blinker. “Look, I’ll come over and we can—”
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