by Cindi Madsen
“Anyway, mustard shouldn’t be a color, and that building over there clashes with the other shops, so I’d repaint it. Actually, mustard yellow is a lie. The yellow comes from turmeric.”
Even now, she bounced on her toes as if preparing for a marathon. “Why are you looking at me like that? I thought we were naming body parts.”
Stuffing his amusement down deep so he could switch into responsible paramedic mode, Ford stepped closer and grabbed her hand. “No, we’re trying to take your pulse—I am, anyway.”
He twisted her wrist and pressed his fingertips to her radial artery. At the feel of the steady palpitations under the surface, his breath hitched. Over something he’d done numerous times before.
He’d counted a whole five beats when Violet bent to pick up the whimpering puppy at her feet. Trouble was doing his damnedest to live up to his name, and Ford was beginning to wonder if Violet should come with a warning label herself.
“I swear, woman. Hold still, will ya?”
Violet blinked her big brown eyes at him, not bothering to release the puppy, and his professional medical persona dissolved. So much for being responsible and distancing himself, the way he’d been trained in order to avoid burnout.
A heady sensation inundated his system as he placed his hand on the side of her neck. It was easier to read her pulse there, anyway. Her eyes dilated as he counted the beats of her heart, and then he was the one fighting distraction.
Smooth skin, shimmery lips, silky hair.
She smelled incredible, too, the vanilla note in her perfume tempting him to take a taste.
And time… Her pulse was on the higher side, but that was to be expected.
For a second, he thought she was breathing too hard, but the heavy panting came from the puppy in her arms, and man did Trouble’s breath reek.
Yet Ford’s hand remained on the side of her neck, the steady beat under his thumb a comfort he hesitated to give up.
“Is your tongue still swollen?” Would you like me to test it for you? Ford cleared his throat, cursing his libido and the number this woman was doing on it.
Violet stuck out her tongue, wiggling it side to side. “Nope.”
“Any more itchiness?”
She shook her head. Then she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and his pulse skidded to life, as rapid as hers had been after all the adrenaline hit her. “Hey, you. I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.”
“And you’ll tell me if that changes? You swear?”
“Yes, Mr. Paranoid Paramedic. I will.”
Unfortunately, paranoia had followed him since his last search and rescue job, and it didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon.
It’s okay. I’ve lived a full life.
It’s not okay. You’re gonna keep on living that full life, you hear me?
A quick grounding exercise blocked the memory before it could take hold and mess with his head all over again.
“Let’s get this show on the road.” They were on the far side of Lake Jocassee, about a mile from the cave that used to serve as his second home.
Although he didn’t plan on showing Violet that. It was a sacred spot—one he’d never shown anyone.
Noticing one vital item was missing, he opened the passenger door of his truck and gestured to the fancy contraption in the middle of the bench seat. “Don’t forget your camera.”
Ever the smartass, Violet saluted him. Too bad for her, he wasn’t budging. He’d heard the anguish in her voice as she’d discussed losing her passion.
Ordinarily, he kept his nose out of people’s business. He struggled to watch talent go to waste, though, and it’d happened too often at his house growing up. If Violet needed a push, he could provide one.
Inspiration, on the other hand, might be harder to come by.
…
After an hour of training, Nitro and Tank had found the scent pad countless times, from greater and greater distances.
And her puppy had done a lot of marking his territory.
Violet could tell by the way Ford raked his hand through his hair that he was growing frustrated with Trouble’s inability to focus. Which triggered her anxiety and had her heart beating an irregular rhythm. Pay attention. Try to help…
“I’m going to the truck to water the dogs. Feel free to take a look around.” Ford tapped the Canon 5D Mark IV that hung from her neck. “Maybe use this thing.”
Once he and the dogs had disappeared through the trees, Violet forced herself to wrap her fingers around the camera. Being afraid of an inanimate object made no sense.
She wasn’t exactly afraid of it. She was afraid she’d discover she had lost her touch. Worried she’d take photos, only to look at them later and wonder what’d happened to the woman whose work had been featured in a bridal magazine.
The cover came off the lens with a light pop.
Slowly, Violet lifted the camera and peered through the viewfinder.
She swiveled toward the water and messed with the settings until everything sharpened. Sunlight reflected off the rippled surface. Cypress trees stretched toward the sky, their fat, multicolored trunks marking how much the water level rose and dipped.
There was something hauntingly beautiful about the swampy setting.
A crane swooped low, skimming its downy wingtips across the surface of the lake.
Violet depressed the button and waited for the image to show on her viewfinder. Lovely but ordinary. Still, a start.
Around the bend of the lake sat a tree-covered rock formation. Ford had referred to it as chimney rock and said they used to jump off the top and into the lake all the time.
Painted images covered the stacked rocks, dripping colors with faces and peace symbols. Initials with plus signs between them—how had those couples turned out? Did they get their happily ever after?
Click, click, click.
At least the sound of the camera comforted her, making it easier to sink into her first photo session in ages.
Footsteps alerted her to Ford’s return, but he didn’t approach her. He secured the puppies’ ropes around a fat trunk, and then he and Pyro sprinted down the wooden dock. Violet wove around rocks and trees to get a better view.
A bit of zooming, and she had Pyro and Ford in her sights. Ford squatted, placed his hands on either side of his dog’s face, and rubbed with enough gusto that Pyro’s ears flopped from one side to the other.
I need to get a bit higher…
A fallen tree provided the perfect perch, and, with one hand bracing her climb, Violet managed to boost herself. She zoomed in and changed angles, capturing moments between a man who kept showing up when she needed help and his faithful companion.
The bond between them was palpable, as was the emotion she’d been missing in the scenic shots. Joy pinged through her as Ford tossed a stick and Pyro raced after it. Click, click, click.
The puppies whimpered, ready for their turn to play.
Violet continued to move closer.
“…show me you’ll listen, I’ll let you off the leashes, too.”
Ford sat on the grass and gave each of the puppies a rubdown, and Violet snapped more pictures. So much adorableness going on—enough she wasn’t sure she could capture it all.
But when she scrolled through the images, warmth flooded her.
She homed in on the puppies’ faces and dangling tongues.
Then she gave in to the temptation to zoom in on Ford’s face. Dammit, maybe I do like dark hair and fair skin on a guy.
When she lowered her camera, Ford asked, “How’s it goin’ over there?”
“Surprisingly well. You?”
“Doin’ just fine.” He lifted a bottle of water, the sunlight making it glitter, and then he tossed it her way.
The camera thunked against her gut as she caught the bot
tle. Until it hit her palm, she hadn’t even realized how thirsty she was.
As soon as Ford slackened the puppies’ ropes, Trouble came bounding for her.
Violet crouched to greet him. Affection swirled, the soft hair beneath her fingers sending her worries and cares far, far away.
“I have an idea,” Ford said as he, Tank, and Nitro stopped in front of her.
Violet shielded her eyes as she squinted up at him.
“What if you’re the scent pad?”
Much longer and her burning thighs might give out, so Violet stood, ignoring the joint pops. “I’m not sure how to take that, Mr. McGuire. Are you saying I smell?”
“Not me. Trouble thinks so.”
She gaped at the puppy prancing at her feet, ready to go despite being clueless of the destination. “Really? And you decided to tell him instead of me? I thought our bond was stronger than that.”
Ford’s soft laugh ignited a whirl of desire. “I meant I want you to go hide, dragging your scent as you make a trail about ten yards away. I’m hoping that’ll get Trouble a first down already.”
“Aww. That’d be so cute if he had a doggy football.” Violet braced her hands on her knees and addressed Trouble. “Would you like a football? Just bark the word. Or say the bark. Not really sure which one best fits, but—”
“Violet, can you focus for a second so I can try to get Trouble to focus for a few minutes?”
She grimaced and returned to her full height. It hadn’t been easy to concentrate with the extra adrenaline and the lake. Plus feeling her camera around her neck, a weight that reminded her she suddenly couldn’t do her job anymore.
Ford cupped her cheek and softened his voice. “Please. I forgot to say that part.”
His touch danced across her nerve endings, and it took her two tries to force out a reply. “Well, in that case, anything for Trouble.”
“Tryin’ not to be jealous of my dog now.”
Violet flashed him a haughty smile to show him that he should be but that she wasn’t mad. She squatted and let Trouble take a big ol’ sniff. “Hey, buddy. Ready to play hide and seek?”
Trouble barked and spun in a circle.
Since Ford was watching, she debated whether or not to kiss Trouble’s adorable furry face, but she’d resisted for long enough. She lifted him and gave him a loud, smacking kiss on the forehead. “Make sure to find me, okay?”
Trouble whimpered when she handed him off, as if he sensed she was about to leave him behind. An irrational ping of guilt bounced through her because she was.
He’ll find me. While dragging her feet, she made a zigzag path. She touched nearby trees and bushes, and once she guesstimated the distance to be about ten yards, she hid behind a boulder.
Before long, she heard the cracking of sticks. She tried to be patient, but an antsy sensation crawled over her skin and had her squirming in place, hope, encouragement, and excitement surging.
She peeked around the boulder.
Right as Trouble rounded it and leaped onto her lap.
Pride sang through her entire body, and she squished his face between her hands. “You found me!”
The puppy licked her chin, and when he rolled over, legs up, she rewarded him with a belly scratch.
“I’ll be damned,” Ford said.
“I think he’s more motivated by affection than by food.”
“Afraid I can’t relate.”
“I can. That’s why Trouble and I understand each other so well.” Violet extended her hand. “He still deserves a treat, though, and someone wouldn’t give me any.”
Ford relinquished the contraband, which she gave to Trouble while piling on the praise.
A yawn surprised her, her adrenaline quickly fading, and she yawned again.
“We finally did it,” Ford said, beaming at her and her puppy and sending her elation to the next level.
“We finally did.”
“I meant Trouble and me—we finally managed to wear you out.” Ford flashed her a devastatingly sexy grin. Then he reached down, grabbed her hand, and hauled her to her feet.
And as they walked back to his truck with his brood of dogs, he didn’t let go.
Chapter Ten
“I think this might be a trap,” Ford said as he cautiously walked into the bridal shop.
Lexi had texted the address, along with instructions to turn off his radio, leave his beeper at home, and take the afternoon ALL THE WAY OFF!
Violet stepped onto the thick, creamy carpet he was probably already staining with his worn steel-toe boots. His maternal grandmother used to have a room like this. Look, don’t touch.
It’d been a long time since he’d thought of Grandma Cunningham or his mother. Ma was Dad’s second wife, and she’d left when Ford was nine. The original story was that she just went to visit Grandma for a while. And Ford had been glad she hadn’t taken him along. While his city-slicker cousins managed to remain as mute and immobile as statues, Ford failed with a capital F.
“What?” Violet bumped her shoulder into his. “Afraid some woman is going to leap out and demand you walk down the aisle with her?”
“I am now,” he said, having to summon the humor he’d come hardwired with.
A smile curved her peachy-pink lips. They had some kind of glossy stuff on them that glittered in the light beaming from the jeweled chandeliers.
Ford tucked his hands in his pockets, afraid to touch or move or even breathe. One thing was for sure—he didn’t belong here.
Violet moved farther into the space, in the direction of the plum-colored couch that faced a three-way mirror. A white pedestal with sparkly high heels sat atop it, and, in addition to curtained dressing rooms, a variety of wedding dresses hung from hangers along the walls. “A bridal shop, huh? I thought putting a jar of jerky in the center of a snare would be the best way to trap you.”
He took a reluctant step so she wouldn’t leave him in the dust. “Sounds like you nailed me pretty good.”
A giggle burst out of her. “There are so many things I could do with that statement, but this is a classy joint.”
Shock jolted him, the comment enough to taper his uneasiness. Now he wanted to hear the options, because it sounded like she might have a dirty mind in that pretty little head of hers.
Violet looped her elbow through his and patted his biceps. “Don’t worry. If there are any rabid brides who are clueless enough to search for a groom inside a bridal shop, I’ll protect you.”
“Ha-ha,” he said, while a voice in his head whispered yes, please.
Sunlight streamed across the carpet as the door swung open and Lexi and Addie walked inside. Lexi shifted her sunglasses to hold her blond curls like a headband. Addie shrunk in on herself a bit. Then she also jammed her hands in her pockets.
“You hearin’ Radiohead’s ‘Creep’ in your head?” he asked, and Murph nodded.
“The lyrics ‘I don’t belong here’ are blastin’ for sure. Same way they did when I came for the bridesmaids’ dress fitting with all of Lexi’s fancy-pants friends.”
“You two are being silly,” Lexi said. Violet simply continued to grin at him.
“What?” he asked her.
“Just recalling how you’ve used my vulnerable moments against me, coercing me into deals involving puppies and such.”
“Hey now,” he said, and she laughed, having way too much fun at his expense. “Those deals were mutually beneficial.”
A whole heap of mischief shone through her features as she leaned closer. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
A pint-sized blonde in a frilly black-and-white top and sky-high heels welcomed them in a refined southern accent.
Violet quickly stepped in front of him and threw an arm out as if the woman might attack. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, casting a wink over her shoulder. “I�
��ve got you. I won’t let her hurt you.”
“Smartass.” He flicked Violet’s dangly silver earring, enjoying the resulting tinkling noise.
The tiny woman rattled off a stream of facts in a high-pitched voice. Lexi responded in whatever language involved silk and tulle and dress styles.
“Can I get some of that protection?” Addie whispered to his sexy bodyguard.
Violet repositioned herself to cover them both, taking them by the arms and following Lexi as she and the woman headed for the rows of dresses.
Bridal Shop Employee beamed at the three of them before taking Violet’s hand. “You must be the bride.”
One corner of Violet’s mouth twitched, her smile turning superficial. “Actually, this is our bride.” She gestured to Addie.
“Oh.” The woman eyed her jeans and War Eagle T-shirt. “That’s right. A bit of a tomboy, correct?” Without waiting for confirmation, she charged on. “So, what styles and fabrics are you thinking? Tulle? Silk? Organza?”
“Yes?”
“It’s fine if you’re not sure. We occasionally get a bride like you.”
While she presumably didn’t mean it that way, the like you did come out sounding a pinch condescending. And the way Addie’s face fell made it clear she’d taken it as an insult.
Ford nudged her with his elbow. “You know what dress you should get, Murph? That one from the Guns N’ Roses ‘November Rain’ video. All super short in the front.”
Addie rolled her eyes. “You guys watched that video way, way too many times during our classic rock phase.”
“I’m lost,” Violet said, and Ford pulled out his phone. He found the image, and she made a sour face. “I guess I see the appeal to dudes—you can see her garter and…and.”
Ford waggled his eyebrows. “Ah yeah.”
Addie’s dark ponytail swung as she shook her head, but her cheery demeanor had returned, so mission accomplished. “That short skirt’s a hell no from me. And before you ask, that’s not going to be our song. The end of that video is devastating, not romantic.”
“Is there anything more romantic than a relationship that never got ruined by all the shit life throws at you?”