by Milly Taiden
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Life is short, honey. At the end of the day, do you want your life to flash with nothing but fetching and carrying for Candice as how you spent your time and talent?”
“No, but—” Isabel waved her hand in front. “Ugh. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I’m too stressed to think about sex or rodeos or whatever.”
“Doing the right guy relieves stress, Izzy, especially if he has the kind of package that can make a girl’s mouth water. Backward cowgirl, straight up straddle, doggie style or whatever position you like best—even better if he knows his way around the downtown and everywhere in between.” Tess winked, clicking the inside of her cheek. “Maybe that’s what you need to turn your luck. A good ol’ fashioned, toe-curling, wrap-your-legs-and-hold-on-for-dear-life kind of friend with benefits.”
Isabel laughed. “What the hell kind of porn have you been reading, woman!”
“It’s called experience. You deserve a little straddle time with the right kind of guy, if only to make up for the bullshit you deal with every day with those two sorry excuses.”
Izzy looked at her friend. “I’m not looking for a friend with benefits. If I’m going to straddle anyone, it’s going to be for the right reasons. Not just to get off.” She exhaled. “I don’t know why we’re bothering with this conversation. Even if I had the time, I wouldn’t know where to look.”
Tessa eyed the younger woman. “You don’t have to look. Just be ready and willing when the magic swirls.”
2
“Backward cowgirl. Friends with benefits.” Isabel snorted, shoving her bags into her car. “Yeah, right. My downtown has been boarded up so long, I’d need a crowbar and a gallon of hot wax just to loosen the hinges.” She leaned on the open trunk for a moment.
Damn it, Tess.
The woman was right, as usual. It had been too long and with too many Mr. Wrongs to count. Memories of the last guy she slept with crept to the surface and she couldn’t help but smirk.
Peter.
Talk about a comedy of errors. Tess called him Peter Pan. Not because he had an affinity for green tights, but because he was definitely a lost boy—and not the sexy vampire type from that 80s classic. More because he didn’t know his ass from his elbow when it came to women. The boy was a category unto himself. Spit bath city. Up, down, and everywhere in between.
Isabel stifled a snort. Definitely lost.
She closed the trunk with a slam, but jumped at the feel of a wet rasp on the back of her leg. “Eew! What the—” Her head jerked around only to find a sleek German shepherd behind her at the curb. The dog barked, her fluffy tail wagging a mile a minute.
“And who do you belong to?” she asked, holding her hand out for the dog to sniff, glad it wasn’t karma paying her a visit for hating on Peter and his useless tongue.
The dog licked Izzy’s hand almost as if answering the question, and Isabel laughed to herself. “You’re too pretty and too clean to be a stray. Did you slip your collar, girl?” She reached out tentatively, giving the dog’s ears a scratch.
“I wonder—” Keeping the fact the dog was a stray at the forefront of her mind, Izzy carefully felt around the dog’s neck and between her shoulder blades, grinning when she found the rice-sized ID below the dog’s skin. “Okay, girl. Lucky for us, your master worried enough about losing you to have you chipped.”
Hiking her purse higher onto her shoulder, she unlocked the passenger side door to her car and waited while the dog panted in the hot weather, almost as if debating with herself. “In you go, girl.” Isabel kept her voice light, ignoring the warning at the back of her head that she was watching a stray mutt get into her car.
She closed the door and scooted around to the driver’s side, sliding in before the dog freaked. “It’s okay. We’re just taking a ride to the nearest vet to get you scanned. You’re safe, girl.”
As if the shepherd understood, she barked, sitting tall in the passenger seat. Izzy gave the dog’s head another scratch and started the car, slowly pulling into traffic.
About a mile down the road, she spotted a sign for a low-cost clinic. “West Hollywood Veterinarians. What do you think?” The dog perked up, putting her paws on the dash and barked. Izzy laughed, pulling into a vacant space in front of the vet’s office. “Looks like this is our lucky day.”
She turned off the ignition and looked at the dog. “Okay, fur face. I need you to cooperate so we can find your master.” Before she could open the driver’s door, the dog jumped into her lap and licked her face.
“Ugh, warn me the next time, will ya?” She laughed. “You’re not exactly a lightweight, but then again, neither am I.” Isabel gave the dog a quick cuddle. “We are both a couple of fluffy little lovelies, right?”
She nodded at the dog’s answering bark. “I’ll take that as a yes.” With a laugh, she opened the car door, trying her best to keep a hold of the shepherd as she maneuvered with the dog toward the vet’s entrance.
“May I help you?” the receptionist asked.
Izzy nodded. “Yes, I found this one out on the strip. I have no idea who she belongs to, but she’s too well-groomed and too well-fed to be a stray, plus she’s got a chip. Gauging from the amount of gray hair, my guess is she’s an old girl, but very sweet. Can you scan her?”
She smiled. “Sure. Let me get one of the techs to help.” She picked up the phone and five minutes later someone came out of the back.
“Hi.” A young man dressed in a white lab coat walked toward the waiting room chairs. “I’m Doctor Lewis. Is this the stray you want scanned?”
Izzy nodded, struggling to keep the large dog on her lap. “Yes. I found her wandering around.”
He squatted down and ran a hand over the dog’s head, giving her a quick once over. “She looks pretty good. Most of the strays that show up here are in bad shape.” Sliding his hand under her chin, the vet lifted her face for a better look.
“She’s an older girl, but she seems healthy enough, but you never know why they’re out on the streets. Some owners simply abandon their dogs when they get on in years.” He wiped his hand on his thigh before straightening. “She’s lucky she found you.”
“Well, she was generous with her kisses. How could I do anything else but help?” Izzy replied, but a bitter knot formed in her stomach at what his words implied.
The vet nodded. “We can take it from here. The receptionist will contact the owner once we download the information from the chip. There’s no reason for you to hang around.”
“Can’t I stay?” Isabel looked from the pup in her lap to the doctor. “I found her, so I kind of feel responsible. What if no one claims her? I don’t want her going to the pound.”
The vet shrugged. “It’s up to you.” He gestured to the half wall behind the row of chairs. “There’s a coffee machine on the other side, if you want.”
He took the dog and Izzy watched him walk through the double doors to the back. Heat washed across her chest at the idea of the old girl left on the streets to fend for herself and she steeled herself in her chair. One sniff and her particular talents would tell her one way or the other if her owners were deadbeats, and then she’d let them have it with both barrels.
Time seemed to stall as she waited. She thumbed through two magazines, but couldn’t concentrate. Glancing at her watch, she exhaled hard. “Fuck.” Fishing in her back pocket for her phone, she scrolled through her contacts until she found Candice’s number.
“Hey, it’s me. Listen, I’m running late—” She shook her head. “No, it couldn’t be helped. What? No, Candice. Look, I’ll do the fitting when I get back. Alison will just have to cool her jets until then. No, I don’t care that she has an audition tomorrow.”
Isabel pulled the phone away from her ear at the woman’s hissy fit. “How should I know what will keep her occupied? She’s your special snowflake, Candi. Not mine. Tell her to get her nails done or God forbid, pick up a book. Small words and pictures. That’s
just her speed.”
She hung up with Candice still in mid-rant. Tessa would get a good laugh out of this when she told her about it later. Glancing at her watch again, Izzy tried to get the receptionist’s attention, but the woman was busy. Damn. They should have reached someone by now.
3
The main entrance to the veterinary office opened and she looked up from the magazine still on her lap. Good God in heaven! She licked her lips, watching as the man walked straight for the receptionist’s desk. Her conversation with Tess had her buzzing already, but this added a living, breathing visual in simmering hot color!
Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and the way his white t-shirt clung to an obviously muscled torso, the effect left her staring with her mouth open. He was tall with just the right amount of dark scruff on a chiseled jaw, and when he took off his sunglasses, her breath caught in her throat. Dark hair, electric blue eyes in a gorgeous face, all wrapped in a very lickable hard body. Holy orgasm, Batman!
Izzy inhaled and his scent left her dizzy, her mind swimming with how he’d taste from his thighs to that all too prominent package behind his zipper. Ugh. Thanks, Tess. All her talk gave her sex on the brain, complete with images of a backward cowgirl ride and the buck of a lifetime staring at the hottie standing across the room from where she sat.
Giving her head a quick shake, she squeezed her eyes closed. Get it together, Izzy. Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied to notice her obvious stare. The last thing she needed was some Hollywood hunk catching her drooling. Isn’t that how the story went? Lonely, overweight girl ogles the hotties she can only dream about? Yeah, no. Not if she could help it.
“Excuse me. I got a call someone found my dog?” he asked at the reception desk.
Of course, his voice was deep and sexy.
Maybe he’s gay.
Yeah, he’s too good-looking.
Plus, this is West Hollywood.
Then why is my Gaydar reading straight as an arrow?
The receptionist opened her mouth to reply, but before she could utter a word, Isabel stood from her chair. “Yes, I found your dog.”
He turned and to Izzy’s surprise, he seemed doubtful. “You?”
Not knowing how to take his skeptical expression, she blinked. “Is that a problem? Or maybe you’d rather I left her on the streets to fend for herself?”
His eyes widened. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just Jezzie doesn’t warm to strangers all that easily.”
“Jezzie?”
He nodded. “Short for Jezebel. When she was a puppy, she was such shameless flirt, no other name fit. She went missing yesterday after the groomer let her out to do her business in the yard. How she ended up on Sunset Strip is beyond me. I live in Malibu.”
Isabel’s mouth dropped. “Malibu? But that’s an hour from here.”
“Exactly.”
Before Izzy could question him further, the double doors opened and the doctor came out. “Mr.—”
“Zander—please,” he replied, interrupting the man.
“Of course.” The vet traded a quick look between him and Izzy. “Jezebel is fine. She’s a little dehydrated, though. It’s no surprise, considering. Do you have any idea how she came to be so far from home?”
Zander shook his head. “Not a clue. I left her at the house with her groomer. I’m just glad she was found safe and sound.”
Isabel sat once more watching the exchange, inhaling just enough to satisfy herself the man’s concern wasn’t just for show. The inside of her nose tickled and a warm buzz stirred in her belly. The electric feel moved with the speed of light to her crotch and she gasped.
Crossing her legs, heat crawled up her cheeks as her panties dampened. Both men heard her audible reaction and she covered her mouth, coughing against her embarrassment.
Zander slid his blue eyes to her and she swore a tiny smirk tugged at his lips. “You okay?” he asked.
Isabel nodded quickly. “Of course. It must be all the fur flying around here.”
He flashed a crooked smile. “Probably. Some people are more sensitive to fur than others.”
A frown knotted Izzy’s forehead, but before she could reply, Zander turned to talk to the doctor. Could he sense she had shifter blood? Did he as well? For the first time in her life, she wished she knew more about that side of her nature.
Not wanting another scent-inspired punch to her pussy, she didn’t dare inhale to test the theory. She turned instead and grabbed her purse from the floor by her chair. God, he was gorgeous—and he obviously loved animals. Between that and the goddamned amazing way he smelled, her mind whirled with questions and possibilities. All kinds of possibilities. She mentally squashed the X-rated thoughts. She found his dog. Nothing more.
The vet cleared his throat. “We’d like to keep Jezebel for about an hour. We’re going to give her some I.V. fluids just to perk her up and make sure she’s well-hydrated. It shouldn’t take longer than that.”
Zander pulled his eyes from Isabel and nodded. “Definitely. Do whatever you have to, Doctor, and thanks.” With a nod, the vet disappeared to the back and Zander walked to the receptionist’s desk. “Here’s my cell number. I’ll stay local until I hear from you, and please call me immediately if you find anything else wrong.”
Isabel gathered her bag and took out her car keys. “Well, I’m glad this had a happy ending.” She nodded to the receptionist and then Zander. “Take care of that little scruff.”
“Wait—” he called after her. “At least let me buy you lunch or a cup of coffee or something.”
She hesitated. Those same possibilities winging their way around her head had now found their way to her stomach. “Uhm, that’s not necessary. I did what anyone would do.”
He grinned. “You must be new to Hollywood. No one here does anything without an ulterior motive.”
Izzy met his grin and she lifted her chin with a smirk. “I’m born and bred here, and I never have ulterior motives.”
“Ouch.” He chuckled. “I apologize. Good Samaritans exist, but you have to admit they are a rare breed.”
“On that, we can agree.”
His answering smile made her knees go weak and she put her hand on the door handle for cover.
As if he knew, his smile broadened. “So, what do you say? Let me buy you lunch for helping Jezzie find her way home.”
Isabel considered him for a moment and then nodded. “When you put it that way, how can I say no?”
“Great.” Zander reached for the door handle and their hands touched for a fraction of a second. Izzy’s mouth went dry and she licked her lips, stepping back to let him open the door for her.
“So, Good Samaritan. Do you have a name?” he asked with another smirk.
“Isabel.”
“Isabel,” he repeated. “A beautiful name, for a beautiful lady.”
Heat burned both cheeks and she knew she’d pinked to her ears. “Okay, let’s can the corny. I appreciate your gratitude, but there’s no need to get carried away.”
“Got it.” With a grin, he inclined his head. “Still, corny or not, it doesn’t make it any less true. You are a pretty lady, with a pretty name.”
She inhaled again. Not a trace of anything but true gratitude, so she nodded. “Thank you, then. I appreciate the compliment.”
“So, where would you like to eat? The strip has quite a few eclectic restaurants.”
She shrugged. “You’re buying. Your choice.”
He smiled. “I’ve got the perfect spot.”
4
Zander took in Isabel’s profile as they walked. The curve of her face and her soft lips, and the way her hair fell past her shoulders like thick, dark silk. There was something about the woman that pulled him in. It was more than just her scent or the sway of her hips and lush, full body. She walked side-by-side with him, close enough to touch, but he didn’t dare. This woman was a complete stranger, yet his inner wolf stalked beneath the surface, awake and pacing.
“Have you been to this place before,” she asked, angling her head to look at him.
“Sunset Strip?” He lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “From time to time, yeah.”
Humor flashed in her hazel eyes, even as her lips pushed into a sideways smirk. “I meant the place you’re taking me to eat. What did you say it was called?”
He grinned. “The Lunch Counter. Los Angeles loves its themes, so my buddy styled his place after the type of old-fashioned lunch counter you’d find at a Five and Dime store back in the day. Formica countertops, jukebox, Egg Creams, even waitresses in checkered uniforms. It’s pretty cool and the food is good.”
“By good I hope you mean good. I’m not exactly a salad-eating kind of girl.”
He laughed. “Good, because we’re here. The Lunch Counter.”
Zander held the door open, and Isabel walked in first. “Oh, wow! You weren’t kidding. This place is like a step back in time.”
She gave him a shy smile, but when the kitchen door swung open, her eyes followed the waitress as she delivered her order. Her grin widened. “Oh man, whatever was on that tray smells amazing!”
“I told you. The place has a terrific menu. Any kind of comfort food you could want and then some. My favorite is the King Kong Melt. A killer triple decker grilled cheese with tomato and tons of bacon.” Zander nodded. “Best part is washing it down with a chocolate milkshake.”
“My kind of lunch.” She laughed a little. “I hope that doesn’t scare you.”
“Why would that scare me?” he asked surprised.
“Because women in this town barely eat, and if they do give in to temptation, they turn around and vomit it right up.”
Zander chuckled. “I know plenty of women like that. They are the most hangry people I know.”
She laughed. “Hangry?”
He nodded. “Hungry and angry, and very unpleasant to be around. They definitely put the ill in ill-tempered.”
Isabel grinned. “I work for two women who totally fit that description. I design for them. One’s an agent and the other an actress. Believe me, they freak any time I break out the measuring tape.”