Catching Cara: Dark Horse, Inc: Book 2

by Amy J. Hawthorn

  Trent pointed his beer bottle in the direction of the pond. “It’s about a quarter mile to the water, so you’re looking at about a mile, maybe a little more of rough terrain. A lot of it is sloped or inclined, depending on your direction. It’ll be tough jog.”

  “That’s close to what I figured. Are you up to it, cop? Are you sure you didn’t have too many donuts today?” She looked to Joe and smirked. She couldn’t help it. She looked forward to this with a ridiculous amount of glee. Their conversation on the phone had lasted well over an hour the night before. How could she stay mad at a man who hurt so badly for someone else’s grief?

  “I think I can handle it. Like I said, the ass-whooping will be well worth the view.” He stood with his hands on his hips in nothing but an old pair of sweats and beat up running shoes. The sweats hung a little low on his hips, giving her the slightest peek at the muscled V that pointed to what was likely even greater treasure below. She knew his skin tone, a golden tan, was most likely the result of time spent outdoors.

  It was a crying shame that she wouldn’t get a view of his backside to go with her run. He’d be eating her dust.

  “Who’s holding the money?” Pete moved to stand next to Leigh and looked around in all seriousness.

  “I’m not going to bet. She’s going to smoke his ass. I’ll hold the money and set the timer.” Noah set a tray of burger patties on the patio table.

  “I’ll be nice to Joe. I may want to put him on my payroll someday. I’ll only give Mayhem a sixty second win.” Rick handed his money to Noah and walked down the steps to stand next to them on the lawn.

  “I’ll take ninety seconds.” Holloway placed his bet and handed a ten over to Noah.

  “Ninety? Hell. I want three minutes. Pretty boy will be huffin’ and puffin’ before the second lap starts.” Pete added his.

  “Kate? You in? I’ll take two minutes.” Trent handed his money to Noah.

  She looked to cousin from her chair and appeared to think. “It just seems wrong to bet against family. I’ll sit this one out.” The corner of her mouth twitched.

  “I want in! Daddy’s gonna win.” Kylie spoke up, full of confidence in her father.

  Joe sighed heavily and muttered. “Here’s another punch on my bad-parent card.” He walked to where his keys and wallet lay on the deck floor, under the bottom rail. He opened his wallet and handed his daughter two five-dollar bills. “Here, sweetheart. Give this to Noah.” Then he winked at his daughter. An enormous smile lit her face, and she proudly handed her money over. She walked back to her father and he crooked his finger at her to come closer. “High-five.” He held his hand up, and she smacked it for all she was worth.

  Dear god. How could a woman not adore them?

  “Leigh? How about you?” Rick pointed his bottled water from her to Noah.

  “Nah. I don’t want to listen to his whining. Next time I want to take Kylie for a girls’ day out, he’ll use it against me. I’m out.” Then she looked to Kylie and winked.

  Had she missed something? No. They were loyal to their family and putting Joe’s pride first. All she could do was admire them for their close connection.

  “All right then. Betting window is closed.” Noah folded up the money and set it beneath his beer bottle.

  Joe placed his hand lightly on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “What about you and I?”

  She stared at his lips and slowly processed his words. There was something about the bottom one that she wanted to taste. She remembered the feel of his mouth against hers and the hard press of his body pinning her against the truck. She shook her lust-filled haze loose and concentrated. “You and I? You mean a bet?”

  “Yeah. When you win, what do you want?” He smirked.

  Oh, this was too good. She almost felt bad about this. Almost. She met his eyes. “Our date. You?”

  “A kiss.” If she wasn’t mistaken, his gaze went to her mouth, which now watered at the thought that he might want that even half as much as she did.

  “Only a kiss? Sure. You’re on big boy.” A grin stretched across her face, and she didn’t bother to hide her happiness.

  “Are you two finished making goofy faces at each other? We want our race.” Noah stood at the porch rail and held up his phone where a stopwatch showed set at zero.

  “We’re ready.” She smiled at Joe. “Do you want a head start, since you’re not familiar with the path? We’ll go down to that oak tree, around it and down to the pond. Go around the backside and up to the barn. Go around it and then back to the tree, pond and back here to finish.” She pointed out her route.

  “Nope. I’ll play fair.”

  “Get ready.” Noah announced, “Kylie, love, you do the honors.”

  “Go!” The little girl yelled, and they both took off. Cara threw herself into the run, eager to stretch her legs. She knew better than give it her all just yet. She’d need to conserve her energy for the final climb up the hill. It didn’t look that steep, but she knew better. It was a bitch to climb.

  Joe ran beside Cara, giving them both room to move freely. He’d looked forward to this all day. It had been a while since he’d had a good, challenging run, but he was no stranger to rough countryside. He’d spent his entire life in it.

  He stayed even with Cara all the way down to the old tree. When they made the turn around the back of it he eased up and let her go first. He stayed behind her, just a few feet. And he hadn’t lied. He did enjoy the view. He’d never in his life thought a woman in a plain white tank and camouflage pants would be so damn sexy, but she’d surprised him again. To her skirts, jeans, and shorts, she’d added fatigues and he still couldn’t decide which he liked better.

  They made it down to the pond in no time. Though the ground was uneven, the slope down was a fairly gentle one. He followed her around the backside where grass had grown near to mid-calf.

  “Getting tired yet? You’re not falling too far behind, are you?” She taunted over her shoulder.

  “It’s not too bad yet. I’m just admiring the view. It’s a damn fine one. I could chase after it all day.” He really could.

  “Oh, yeah?” Her words came out a touch choppy as if she’d started to breathe heavier.

  “Yeah. I only have one problem. I can’t decide which I like best.” She’d taunted him. He deserved his own shot.

  “What’s that, MacDonald?” she called out before she leapt over a downed log.

  “I can’t decide what I like better. I never expected to appreciate camouflage on a soldier so much, but apparently I do. But then those khaki shorts you had on the other day looked mighty fine.” If he wasn’t mistaken, her pace slowed a fraction. He matched it so he could stay in his place behind her.

  They finished the pond section and ran up the incline to the old barn. He stayed quiet a while so they could conserve their oxygen. He savored the adrenaline flowing through his body as he hit his stride.

  “I’ve always had a thing for faded jeans. I didn’t think there was anything capable of flattering a woman’s ass better.” They rounded the barn and began to head back for the second lap. His lungs felt the beginnings of a good burn. “But I can’t get the image of a pretty little woman in a turquoise skirt bent over, looking at her car out of my head. I think that skirt might be my favorite. You want to know why?”

  The air filled with silence as they came to the pond once again. Halfway around the backside she finally responded. The breathiness in her voice dried his mouth and made him think of things far dirtier than running through the weeds. “Why, Joe?”

  He waited until they made the last turn at the pond’s end. When she straightened out and started the home stretch he suspected she might have realized she could be in trouble. Suspicion laced her words as she asked him again. “Joe, why do you like the skirt?”

  Damn, he loved her voice.

  “All I can think about is how easy it would be for me to bend you over the nearest piece of furniture, yank down those little white panties a
nd sink myself in your hot little body.” Halfway to the finish he cut loose, lengthened his stride and took off.

  He heard her muttered curse as he passed her and smiled. He’d make sure the kiss was worth her while.

  He ran up to the deck and scooped Kylie up in his arms. She threw her arms up and squealed. “You won! I knew you would!” She hugged him around his neck. “You’re sweaty!”

  “I am. Running’s hard work.” He kissed her cheek loudly.

  “Well, hell. Mayhem? What was that?” Pete grumbled and he heard Cara’s labored voice from the yard.

  “He won. I don’t know how, but he won.” She plucked one of the icy cold water bottles off the rail that someone had set out for them and twisted the top off. He watched a bead of sweat slide down between her breasts.

  “I thought you were some sort of track star, Mayhem. I know you smoked everyone in our unit at the base in Fort Campbell.” James commented from his chair where he leaned back with his long legs stretched out in front.

  “I ran track in high school. I placed second in the district cross country finals. I still jog almost daily.” She took a sip of water. Then she put the lid on the bottle, picked up the other one and tossed it to him.

  He caught it one-handed and looked to his sister who’d begun laughing. “Leigh?” He nodded his head to her and opened his water. His took his own drink, while Leigh answered for him.

  “Joe went to state and placed second. He went to the university on a track scholarship.” His sister’s grin only grew brighter when Cara put her hands on her hips and shot him a dirty look.

  “I told you I jogged.” He smiled in return and looked up to his daughter, who had climbed up and around to sit on his shoulders. “Pickle? Do you know who else won today?” He gripped her ankles tightly, knowing what to expect.

  “No. Who? What did they win?” She looked around the gathering for a clue.

  “You did. You’re the only person who said I would win.”

  “I did? Yay!” She threw her arms up in the air and arched as he held on tight.

  Noah took the money from under the bottle and brought it over. “Here’s your money, love.” He held it up to her.

  “I got the money?” Awe and confusion filled her voice.

  “You did.” Again, he gripped her ankles tightly. “It’s yours.”

  “Yay!”

  “Let’s fix you a plate, sweetheart.” Kate stood and held her arms up. When she squirmed to get down, he lifted her over his head and down to his cousin. After Kate fixed his daughter a plate, everyone else took their turn.

  He hung back and waited.

  So did Cara.

  Her breathing had slowed a bit by now, but not completely. Her chest rose with each inhalation. Her sweat-dampened top had become sheer, displaying the pale blue sports bra beneath it.

  He walked over to the rail and hopped over it to stand beside her.

  She looked up with a wry smile. “So, MacDonald, when do you want your kiss?”

  Now. And he feared one kiss wasn’t going to be enough.

  “On our date. When do you want to go?” He leaned in closer, unable to resist the pull of her golden eyes and flushed skin.

  Her breath hitched and he didn’t think it was due to their run. “Um…how about the night after tomorrow?” She bit her bottom lip, and he stifled a groan.

  “I’ll find a sitter for the night. Plan to be out late.”

  “Okay.” She twisted the lid off her water but didn’t remove it.

  “And wear the skirt.” He smiled and walked off to fix his own plate. He was suddenly very hungry.

  Chapter Six

  Just for a hint of spite, she didn’t wear the skirt Joe requested. She figured it would have served him right if she was dressed in her old fatigues when he picked her up, but she didn’t wear those either.

  She wore her little black skirt and a shimmery halter top. She hoped she wasn’t too overdressed, but even if she was, he’d be in for a treat. Or torture, depending on how their night went.

  “Now, who exactly is this man you’re going out with?” Her mother asked from behind her in the hallway beyond the open bathroom door.

  “Your hip is feeling better today? You’ve been up and about more than usual,” Cara commented sweetly as she leaned in toward the mirror to apply a hint of eyeliner. It wouldn’t do any good to point out that she knew curiosity was the only reason her mother got out of her bed.

  “Not really. Can’t a mother make sure her daughter isn’t making a fool of herself?” Cara knew the moment she chose her outfit that her mother would have something to say. She just hadn’t known what to expect. It could have been anything from scorn to approval, though she doubted it would have been approval unless a doctor picked her up at the door. “That top leaves most of your back bare. Did you know that? What did you say your date does?”

  Cara hadn’t said. The omission had nothing to with Joe’s salary and everything to do with her mother’s attitude. “His name is Joe MacDonald. He’s a Sheriff’s Deputy and a very nice man. When he arrives I want you to be on your best behavior and keep your opinions to yourself.” In the mirror, she met her mother’s eyes. “I really like him, Momma. Please be nice.”

  Her mother blinked as if shocked by her words. The lines around her eyes softened. “I’ll try, if he’s as nice as you say. Is he smart?” She sounded doubtful. “Maybe he could become Sheriff or a police chief one day?” And my real mother is back.

  She didn’t bother telling her mother, again, that she liked supporting herself. She loved her job and would wither away and die without something that made her feel useful, needed. She’d be wasting her breath.

  “You never know, Momma. He could.” Maybe that possibility would be enough to skip the third degree when he arrived. She slicked on a clear lip gloss and called it good.

  “Maybe you should put a little color on under the lip gloss. And maybe just a little more eye shadow. You didn’t put much on.” Her mother tilted her head in thought.

  The doorbell rang and both she and her mother stood a little straighter. Her mother looked down the hallway to the door. “I’ll get it.” Cara caught the set of determination in her mother’s jaw and inwardly swore.

  Joe is a big boy. He can handle Betty Gregory.

  Hopefully.

  She closed her purse and followed her mother. She entered their small living room in time to hear Joe greet her mother, “Ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.” Cara couldn’t see Joe, but judging by the way her mother’s eyes widened and her mouth when slack, he’d impressed her in at least one way. Her mother might be in her late fifties, but she was still a woman. There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t see the appeal in a man like Joe MacDonald.

  “Well, hello. Come right in.” Her mother pushed back her shoulders, opened the door wider and Cara got her first look at him. She almost dropped her clutch. He’d dressed in a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His broad shoulders nearly filled the doorframe. Neat, dark blue dress jeans hugged his muscled legs.

  “Cara, don’t just stand there slack-jawed. He brought you flowers. Go get a vase and fix him a drink.” Her mother looked at her as if she were speaking to a dimwit. Maybe she was.

  “Actually, Mrs. Gregory. The flowers are for you. I figured if I stole your daughter for the evening, I should leave something half as beautiful in her place to keep you company.”

  Oh no. That is it. I’m done for.

  The poor man had no idea what he’d just done. Her mother would have her married to Joe, barefoot, and pregnant by next Sunday if she had any say in the mater. And Betty Gregory always had her say.

  But, despite the can of worms he’d just opened, how could she be mad a man who did something so kind? That simple gesture would have her mother on cloud nine for a week. Maybe a good dose of happy would help with her recovery.

  She went into the kitchen to search for something large enough to hold the colorful bouquet. Fi
nally, in the laundry room she found a dusty old vase. She washed it out and filled it with water. When she returned to the living room she found Joe in one of her mother’s Queen Anne chairs and her mother sitting in her perfect Miss Manners pose on the flowered couch. Cara had no clue how she managed it with her “wretchedly painful” hip.

  “That’ll do, I guess. Set it on the table in the center. Where’s his drink?”

  Joe cut in before Cara could respond. “No thank you, ma’am. We need to leave soon or else we won’t make our reservation.” While her mother looked down on her terrible manners, Joe winked behind her back.

  “You didn’t tell me he owns a cattle farm.” Oh lord. She’d left them alone for two minutes and her mother had gotten his full resume.

  “I didn’t know that.” She’d had far more important things on her mind each time she’d seen him.

  “It’s only half of one. The other half will go to my sister, though she has no interest in running it. My father and I split the responsibility.”

  “You have a sister? What does she do?” Her mother’s gaze swung back to Joe.

  “Mom!” Cara counted to five in her head and took a deep breath. “Joe said we need to be going or we’ll be late. Joe?”

  He smiled and looked as though he was trying not to laugh. “Ma’am, it was a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded to her mother and Cara could have sworn that her mother wobbled in her seat. “Cara? Time for our date.” He wore a friendly, even innocent smile but his eyes simmered with dark promise.

  She headed out the door and when his hand grazed over her bare back, she remembered his teasing words from the other evening.

  When Betty Gregory opened the door wide and he saw Cara, it took every ounce of civility his own poor mother had beat into him over the years to keep from rushing in like some lusty beast. He’d wanted nothing more than to throw Cara over his shoulder and take her back to his cave where he could strip her bare and spend the next month making her his.