A Perfect Storm

by Lori Foster

  “And if I’m dressed sexy, you might?”

  “When you dress like that, I have a harder time concentrating on what it is I want to do.”

  “Like tease me?” Oh, God, now she was putting ideas in his head!

  “Exactly.” He smiled with anticipation. “And speaking of that… You cursed.”

  Oh, no, she wouldn’t let him get away with that. “But you did first, so we canceled each other out.”

  “Doesn’t work that way.” Somehow, without seeming to move, he crowded closer again. “Our bet was that you would curb your language, and pay a price whenever you didn’t.”

  Refusing to act uncertain, she lifted her chin. “Fine. I owe ya one.” He started to lean in, and she straight-armed him. “But you’ll have to collect later.”

  He immediately stopped.

  Nice. Not that she’d expected him to do otherwise. “I’ll pay up, but fair is fair—so you owe me, too.”

  He sat back, his left wrist draped over the steering wheel, his right arm along the back of the seat. After a moment of consideration, he shrugged. “What do you want?”

  “Details.”

  “Not a problem.” He gave her a lazy, indulgent smile. “I was going to tell you all I could about the Green Goose anyway.”

  Arizona shook her head. “Not those details.”

  “No?” His right eyebrow lifted. “Then what?”

  “We’ll cover that later, too.” Satisfied by his frown, she opened the bag of fast food, and fragrant steam wafted out. “Mmm. Let’s eat before the burgers get cold.” She handed him his share of the food, then opened up the fries and set them on the console between them.

  Large trees shaded their parking spot, so Spencer rolled down the windows to let in the fresh September air. Birds flitted from tree to tree. Bees buzzed. A breeze teased past.

  “It’s such a pretty day after the storms.”

  With a sound of agreement, Spencer opened the burger and took a big bite. While she dug in, too, she watched him, amazed at how quickly he consumed his food. She imagined it took a lot of fuel to keep a guy his size going.

  While studying his profile, Arizona again noted the permanent damage done to the bridge of his nose. “How did you break your nose?”

  His gaze, which had been focused off in the distance, cut to her. He finished chewing another big bite of his burger, then touched the bridge of his nose with two fingertips. “It bothers you?”

  Arizona snorted. “No.” Not much could detract from his good looks. He was the whole package, not just a handsome face. “Actually, it makes you look rugged.”

  That earned her a crooked smile. “If you say so.” He grabbed a few more fries.

  “So what happened? Walk me through it.”

  “There’s not much to tell.” He half turned, getting comfortable with his shoulders propped against the door. “I was closing in on this guy, Willy Glassman. A world-class jerk. Domestic abuse, battery, resisting arrest… You name it, and old Willy was probably guilty of it. After he skipped out on his bail, I tracked him for weeks. Finally found him, too, in this old farmhouse sitting out in the middle of nowhere. He and a couple of buddies were on the front porch, going through a case of beer.”

  “Buddies?”

  “I found out later they were his brother and a cousin. They were all three loud, drunk, and I was figuring out how to grab Willy with the least amount of fuss…” He trailed off, shook his head.

  “What?” Rarely had she seen Spencer look so imposing. “Something happened?”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he thought for a second, then grabbed up his milk shake. Arizona gave him time to sort through things. She knew better than most how lousy some memories could be.

  “I got sidetracked.”

  The way he said that, it almost sounded like… “The guy got away?”

  “Yeah.” Putting his head back against the window, Spencer narrowed his eyes and firmed his mouth. “I never did catch him. Someone else eventually brought him in.”

  Incredulity took her breath. Because Spencer was a lot like her—determined to succeed—Arizona knew that wouldn’t sit right with him. He was not a person who took failure lightly. Whatever had sidetracked him had to be good. “What happened?”

  He chewed his upper lip, then laughed without humor. “Until I got closer, I hadn’t realized what they were doing on the porch. I didn’t know they had a…”

  Arizona watched him swallow. She reached out and touched his knee.

  He covered her hand with his own. “They were tormenting a dog.”

  “Tormenting?”

  “Being really cruel. The poor dog was tied to a high post so that its front paws…”

  Arizona covered her mouth, imagining.

  “They were strangling the poor thing for sport.”

  “Bastards!”

  He nodded agreement. “I saw that animal, saw what they were doing, and I totally lost it.” He wrapped her fingers in his own, gave her a squeeze, and then released her. “Instead of biding my time and waiting for the right moment to grab Glassman, I fired a few shots so they’d take cover in the house, then I cut the dog’s rope.”

  Thank God he carried a sharp knife. “You let them all get away?”

  His laugh was harsh. “No. As soon as the dog was free, I busted into the house and beat the shit out of them.”

  “No kidding? I would have loved to see that.”

  Pausing, he gave her a funny look, laughed again and shook his head. “It was stupid. If one of them had been armed, I might not be here now.”

  “Not a one of them had a gun?”

  “Glassman did, but he ran. I guess the other two were supposed to slow me down. And they did. I held my own, but somewhere along the way I took a kick to the face, and it broke my nose.”

  Enthralled, Arizona watched him with wide eyes and heightened anticipation. “Knocked you out?”

  “Just made me bloody, actually, and more furious.” As if he were enraged all over again, his left hand clenched. “I leveled them both, breaking a few bones and crippling a knee. But before you start looking impressed, they were punks, nothing more. You could have taken them.”

  Affronted by the demeaning way he said that, she scowled. “Gee, thanks.”

  Sidestepping her pique, he continued. “I cuffed them and called the cops. I was going to cut out after Willy, but as soon as I left the house, I saw the dog was still there. He’d left the porch and was cowering in the bushes, snarling and growling at me and…” He shook his head and his voice lowered. “I couldn’t leave him.”

  Her heart turned over. Could Spencer be more appealing? She didn’t think so.

  “Turns out they had several outstanding warrants. Last I heard, they were still rotting in prison—which is where they both belong.”

  “Nice.” Knowing better than most how badly reality could suck, she hated to ask, but she had to know. “What happened to the dog?”

  “Animal control wanted to take him. He was obviously hurt, a little wild and scared.” Spencer looked at her. “He didn’t want to trust anyone.”

  Oh, no. No, no, no. He drew comparisons between her and the dog. Similarities existed, so she couldn’t blame him, but she didn’t want him to go there.

  “He was a German shepherd mix, smart and, except for the signs of neglect, really beautiful.” Holding her gaze, Spencer surprised her by saying softly, “I took him with me.”

  While Arizona appreciated his kindness and was grateful that he hadn’t abandoned the dog, she didn’t want him to see her the same way. Abused, yes. Angry, you betcha. Distrustful? Of course.

  But she wasn’t helpless as the animal had been—because she refused to be. She’d taken charge
of her life, and she wanted Spencer to see her as a capable person.

  She wanted him to see her as an equal.

  It took a couple of slow, deep breaths before she could find her voice. “You’re a regular rescuer of strays, aren’t you?” Hurt made her sound sharper than she meant to.

  As if her sarcasm saddened him, Spencer focused on the woods beyond, at nothing in particular. “It took a while, but he finally healed. He started playing again, relaxing. He let down his guard.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “A good friend of mine is a vet. He helped me work with Trooper. He kept him when I was away, and he monitored his recovery.”

  “Trooper?”

  “That’s what I named him.” He shrugged. “Anyway, my friend has kids and a big fenced yard, lots of company. Trooper is happy there.”

  “You visit him?”

  “Sometimes.”

  The similarities were annoying. Just like poor Trooper, Spence wanted to rehabilitate her, “repair” her and then pawn her off on someone else.

  Over her dead body.

  After slurping down the rest of her milk shake, she decided it was time to change the subject. “So you like animals?” That sounded innocuous enough.

  “Sure.” He finished off his drink, too. “But I’m not home enough to have one of my own. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Same here.” She’d love to actually have a home—and everything that went with it. Pets, grass to cut, windows to wash, photos to hang on the walls…

  But fate had dealt her a different hand, so that’d have to be in another lifetime.

  Agitated by the thought, she began stuffing the empty wrappers and paper cups back into the bag.

  Spencer helped.

  “I love being around Dare’s dogs,” she said, just to fill the sudden silence. “Tai and Sargie are total sweeties. And Priss’s big cat, Liger, is such a lover-boy.”

  Spencer grinned. “Good thing he’s friendly, since he’s so big.”

  “Twenty-three pounds of loving,” Arizona agreed.

  He took the bag from her. “What do you think of Grim?”

  Jackson’s new cat, recently rescued in the middle of a mission, was the newest of the bunch. “The name suits him. He tries to act all dour, but he sure loves Jackson.” She tilted her face up to boast, “He likes me a lot, too. Most animals like me.”

  Affection showed in Spencer’s slight smile and dark eyes. “Animals are a good judge of character.”

  He sounded so sincere, so honestly admiring, that it struck Arizona—maybe fighting him wasn’t the best plan anymore. Maybe, instead, she should take advantage of his unique offer. How many hunky, honorable, heroic guys would ever cross her path?

  Spencer wanted her, but he put that want second to concern for her—regardless of whether or not she warranted his concern. He butted heads with her without losing his temper. He trusted in her honor enough to make deals with her.

  He smiled with her, was honest, and she respected him.

  Would it hurt to explore the unfamiliar feelings he inspired?

  When Spencer leaned into her view, she realized she’d been staring off into space, lost in thought.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “You still with me, honey?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” Even to her, the release of her breath sounded like a fanciful sigh. “I was just thinking.”

  “About?” he prompted.

  “Nothing much.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “We should get a move on. I don’t want to risk missing the key players.”

  Curiosity kept him studying her until her smile faltered. “Soon as I throw this away, we can take off.” He opened the truck door and stepped out to dispose of the garbage in a nearby trash bin.

  As he walked away from her, Arizona indulged her own study. Everything about him drew her in one way or another: the flex of muscles in his long thighs, how his T-shirt fit across his wide shoulders, the way the wind ruffled his dark hair, his protective nature, and his badass aura of capability.

  Most of all, she liked his big heart.

  He’d given up a percentage of the bail on a fugitive so that he could rescue an abused dog.

  How could she remain indifferent to that? She’d have done the same thing, but she knew plenty of other people who, either out of apathy, laziness, or fear, turned a blind eye to all sorts of cruelty.

  But not Spencer. In the truest sense of the word, he was a champion.

  She sighed as he returned from tossing away the garbage. Alert to the surroundings, his gaze constantly scanned the area, but not in a paranoid way. He looked casual, unconcerned—and so incredibly hot.

  The front view was even better than the back view. The set of those wide, powerful shoulders, the relaxed lope of his long-legged gait…the way his jeans fit his lean hips.

  Spencer Lark was the real deal, an amazing mix of macho ability and tender compassion, sex appeal and physical strength, kick-ass justice and an enormous heart.

  If she’d ever felt this way before, she didn’t remember it. She knew no other man had ever drawn her as Spencer did. It was strange, but she couldn’t deny that she looked forward to his next kiss. Would it be more intimate than the previous kisses?

  Remembering them gave her a tiny shiver of eagerness.

  Just a little while ago, he’d stolen a quick kiss straight from her lips.

  Would he kiss her there again? Longer next time? Deeper?

  Did she want him to?

  Yep, she did.

  Tonight, she’d be alone with him at his house again. After they finished their trip to the bar, maybe she’d tell him what she wanted. Or maybe she just wouldn’t protest. This was all so new to her that she really had no idea how to proceed.

  But she’d figure it out, and fast.

  Spencer got back into the truck, settled into his seat and gave her a double take. “You’re looking at me funny.” His gaze went to her mouth. “Daydreaming again?”

  “Sort of.” She felt suddenly free, and that made no sense. Soon they’d be in the center of a viper’s nest. Bad guys needed to be brought down, and innocents needed to be freed. And still the grin tugged at her mouth. To contain the euphoric feeling, Arizona wrapped her arms around herself. “I was just thinking that I really do trust you.”

  He went still, his expression inscrutable. “Glad to hear it.”

  Arizona had to laugh. Of course he didn’t try to press the issue. Not Spencer. He still saw her as damaged goods, and he still wanted to “fix” her. But somehow, that didn’t bother her so much anymore. She knew she was fine, and eventually he’d know it, too.

  She gave him a nod. “Okay.”

  He spoke carefully. “Okay what?”

  No way would she forewarn him. He wanted the upper hand, and right now, he thought he had it. That worked for her. As long as he considered himself in control, he wouldn’t see her taking over.

  “Never mind.” Trying not to grin, she flipped down the visor and checked her teeth in the mirror. “Nothing stuck in my teeth. That’s good.”

  “Hey.” He reached for her hand, drawing her attention back to him. “Everything okay?”

  “Yup.” Things were awesome, better than ever, because she felt awesome, better than ever.

  Apparently, he didn’t buy that. “You aren’t having reservations about going to the Green Goose?”

  “Shoot, no.” If anything, she was more enthusiastic than ever.

  He held on to her hand. “It’d be understandable, honey. Even if Terry Janes doesn’t pick up on the…” his attention moved over her “…enticement, other guys will come on to you. They’ll be drinking, probably pushy.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Duh. That was t
he plan. She squeezed his hand in reassurance, then let him go. “But it’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I’ve done this sort of thing before, remember? I can handle it.”

  Expression darkening, he pulled back and started the truck. “You handling it is what I’m worried about the most.”

  “Well, don’t.” She hooked her seat belt and gifted him with a cocky smile. “We’ve got the bases covered, so there’s nothing to worry about. Now let’s get this show on the road.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  WORRY? HOW COULD HE NOT? Arizona showed no caution, no real understanding of the risk involved. She acted as if it was all fun and games, showing the same enthusiasm for cutthroat danger that most young ladies her age gave to a shopping spree.

  She might not comprehend the temptation she presented in her sexier clothes, but he knew, and the reality of it chewed on his conscience. No matter what the final reward might be, dangling her out there for traffickers to drool over didn’t sit right.

  It felt more wrong by the moment.

  “You look p.o.’d.” With her good mood dwindling, she tipped her head at him. “What’d I do wrong now?”

  “Not a thing.” It wasn’t what she had done as much as how she faced the world—recklessly, with no consideration for her own safety or limitations. Spencer had no idea how to rein her in. At times he wondered if such a thing was possible.

  “Hmm.” She shocked him with a suggestive look. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mood says another.”

  What the hell is she up to now? Treading carefully, he said, “Unlike you, I understand that the best laid plans have a tendency to go sideways.”

  “Poor Spencer.” She eyed his chest, lower. “Did you want me to fall apart?”

  He scowled at her husky tone. “Of course not.” What was she thinking about that had her sounding so breathless? “You don’t need to be overly worried, but a degree of caution would be welcome.”

  “So…” Deliberately teasing and intimate, she leaned toward him. “How much caution does it take to make you chill?” She stroked the side of his neck, threaded her fingers into his hair.

  The touch froze him, left him so taut he felt ready to break. Spencer concentrated on driving—and on not getting a boner.