"You sure you're sure? I'm sensing doubt."
Rather than answer him--and possibly lie--she focused on trudging uphill. When she reached the top, the town square would be visible. The real world. Daniel would stop flirting. Anything to keep his secret, right?
"Do you jog every morning?" he asked.
"Yes." Changing the subject before he could invite himself along, she said, "Cute dog."
"I found her. Something or someone mauled her back legs. I couldn't leave her alone in a strange house, especially while I'm searching for her owners."
A big strong guy taking care of a poor, injured dog. Was there anything sweeter? "What's her name?"
"Princess." One of his brows winged up. "Animals are allowed at the inn, right?"
Her mom had always issued a No Pets Allowed policy, but Dorothea overrode it, effective immediately. "Princess will be a welcome addition to the staff."
He began to protest, only to shut his beautiful mouth. Expected a completely different answer, had he? "You aren't worried about your desk being used as a chew toy, or finding poop in your filing cabinets?"
"Why would I worry? One can be fixed and the other cleaned. By you. My he-ceptionist." And now, they'd reached the top of the hill. She picked up the pace, and this time, he let her move ahead.
In fact, he never accelerated past her but remained on her tail. Looking out for her, without publically associating with her.
Great! They weren't even dating, and he'd already made her feel worthless.
When she reached Main Street, she moved to the sidewalk. She passed Daniel's dad and Mr. Rodriguez, who were setting up the table and chairs they used for their daily round of checkers. Both men hollered out a greeting, and she waved without looking over. The last time she'd come across them, they'd done nothing but praise Daniel.
He's grown into a handsome man, hasn't he?
His wife will be a lucky lady. There's no man more faithful. Bet his kids will be cute as buttons.
Oh, there'd been one bit of hinting/leading, too.
He's troubled and needs a woman to soothe him. (nudge, nudge)
Troubled? Daniel? Ha! Except...
The night she'd propositioned him, there'd been a haunted glaze in his eyes when he'd opened his door. A glaze she'd overlooked in her panic but hadn't forgotten in her thousand and one mental replays. Sweat had beaded over his brow and upper lip, and his breathing had been accelerated.
Every morning for the past week she'd jogged past his dad's house. Because it was located along the best route, no other reason. Daniel had been up while the rest of the town had slept. He'd paced back and forth in front of the window.
Considering his military background, he'd probably seen and endured horrors she couldn't even imagine. Did memories plague him?
He idled his truck in front of the salon, chatting with his dad, taking the focus off her, and she gratefully raced around the corner, soared inside the inn and--
Stopped, incredulous. Holly sat at the reception desk, ignoring the ringing phone while playing on her cell. She should have been getting ready for school.
Dorothea's temper--utterly--exploded. She stomped over and pushed Holly out of the chair. As her sister crashed to the floor--then jumped to her feet--Dorothea pointed to the hallway. "Go! Gather your school supplies and get your butt to class. Now!"
Defiance crackled in Holly's eyes. A look Dorothea had never seen in her own. "I won't, and you can't make me."
"I can drag you kicking and screaming, and I'll do it without a qualm. Go!"
"You think you're stronger than me?" Holly actually drew back a fist, intending to...punch Dorothea in the face?
She braced, ready to take the blow. Maybe, after hitting her, Holly would finally feel vindicated. They could start fresh.
The bell over the front door tinkled just before her sister struck. A second later, Daniel stood between them, his arms extended to hold them at a distance, Princess barking at his feet.
"We use our words, ladies, not our fists." His hard tone demanded immediate submission. "Back away, Holly."
"Whatever. I'm out of here." Holly flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and flounced out of the room. The back of her T-shirt had two bold letters: F and U.
Nice.
A scowling Daniel focused on Dorothea. "Tell me what that was about before I blow a gasket."
He was mad at her? He had no right! "That was private business and--" Dorothea deflated with disappointment as questions raced through her mind. Would Holly ever speak to her again? Or would her sister spend the day building stronger walls? "You shouldn't have interfered."
"Are you freaking kidding me? She was going to hit you, Thea." The words lashed from him, his anger only seeming to grow.
"Afterward she might have talked to me. Thanks to you, I'll never know."
Oh, yes. His anger was definitely growing. Steam practically wafted from his nostrils. "Let's get one thing very clear. No one hits you. No one. Not for any reason. Ever."
His vehemence thrilled her to the core. Which ticked her off! He was military, the need to protect branded in his bones. This wasn't romance; this was White Knight Syndrome.
"Don't act as if you care," she said. "I'm too tired to sift through--"
His big hands framed her cheeks in a tight grip, silencing her. He leaned down, getting in her face. "You're the woman I want in my bed. Of course I care."
Her knees shook to the same rhythm as her jacked-up heart rate. Resist him!
This was a practiced move, had to be. And after Jazz, she was immune to moves. She was! "You need to let me go, Daniel. Anyone could walk in. If we're seen like this, gossip will spread. Your dad--"
"Thinks we're friends, nothing more." His thumbs caressed the rise of her cheekbones. "Tonight's our first date. The one you're planning. Where are you taking me?"
Oh...crap. Their date! Yesterday she'd thought, Get it over with. Today she thought, I'm in trouble. He'd brought his A game.
Well, she would just have to ensure they were never alone. On tonight's menu? The Scratching Post. And maybe Dorothea would use him. Not for pleasure, but for practice. Maybe she would attempt a few flirting techniques so that, when her Mr. Right finally came along, she would be ready.
Yeah, talk about a foolproof plan with zero flaws, she thought drily.
"I, uh, need to shower." She hated the breathless quality to her voice. "And you need to get to work."
He crossed his arms over his wide chest. "Before you go, tell me about my new duties."
Right. She moved around him, careful not to touch him, and tapped the keyboard to wake up the computer. "Whenever a customer checks out, you do a quick survey. Like any good he-ceptionist would. Ask how they enjoyed their stay, how likely they are to return and, most important, what type of theme room they'd find most exciting." Something Holly was supposed to have done.
"You considering doing theme rooms?" Daniel looked around, as if seeing the inn through new eyes. "That's a brilliant idea. Both SV residents and out-of-towners will stay for the experience as much as the convenience."
She tried not to flush with pleasure. Yeah, she tried. "One day, yes. Every room will have a different theme."
"What's stopping you today?"
"What else? Money."
"You don't need money to get started, sweetheart. Not much, anyway." As she sputtered with incredulity, and secret pleasure that he'd called her sweetheart, he added, "What's your favorite theme?"
Easy. "The four seasons. And I'm not talking about the hotel chain, but winter, spring, summer and fall."
"Then that's the one we'll start with."
Hope fizzed in her blood for the first time since taking over the inn. "How?"
"How else? We'll barter with the locals."
Barter. As in, offer overnight stays free of charge in exchange for goods and services? "That's even more brilliant," she admitted.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm an amazing person, and you can't get enough of m
e. Stop fawning. You're embarrassing us both." Daniel gave her a little push toward the hallway. "Go take your shower. Let your assistant--"
"He-ceptionist."
"--handle the details."
*
DANIEL SPENT THE bulk of the morning on the phone. First he called Harlow Glass. Well, Harlow Ockley now. The woman created magic murals with her paintbrush.
He told her what he wanted--four different murals in a single room--and she said, "For Dottie Mathis? I'll do anything. I'll even buy the paints, and I'll do the murals for free."
The girl had certainly changed since high school. "First, her name is Dorothea. Second, how soon can you start?"
"How about tomorrow? Beck has been overprotective ever since we found out--"
"Even better," he interjected, uninterested in swapping life stories. He had too much work to do. "Thanks."
Her chuckle drifted over the line. "No small talk, huh? Got it. Have Dot--Dorothea call me so we can discuss her vision, okay?"
"Will do." He hung up and called his supplier to order the parts he needed for the inn's new security system. It would be his "I'm an ass, I'm sorry, but hopefully my actions speak louder than my words" gift to Thea. Romance at its finest. After listing everything he wanted mailed to the inn, he spent a little time in one of the unoccupied rooms, measuring walls and windows. Then he called Jessie Kay, who owned an online dress shop--Jessie Kay's Closet. He gave her the specs and asked her to sew a king-size comforter and a set of curtains at no charge.
She threatened to charge double until she heard the pieces would be the crowning glory of the Strawberry Inn's first theme room.
"If I can pick the theme of the second room," she said, "I'll sew two comforters and two sets of curtains at no charge."
"Done." He figured she'd want the second room to be themed Jessie Kay Rules the World. If Thea wasn't on board, well, the two women could work something else out.
"Perfect. Send me links to the kind of material Dorothea wants, and I'll get started on the comforter right away."
"I'll do better than that. I'll bring you the material tonight." After work, but before their date, he would drive Thea to the city. Fabric shopping wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but he couldn't stop smiling as he imagined her surprise and delight. "And thank you."
"Yeah, yeah," Jessie Kay said. "I'm awesome. I know. And I already know how I'm going to theme my room. I'm calling it Daniel's Downfall."
Lord save me. He hung up on her.
During the next half hour, two people called about the reception job. So soon? He told both the woman and the man to call back in a week. And he didn't feel guilty about it. He'd just started, and he needed more time to do his thing. Besides, Thea needed to save a little money.
Excited by the new developments, he jumped to his feet. He'd hunt her down, tell her all about the favors he'd done her. Maybe he'd catch her dancing...
Or maybe not. Word of his new job had already spread, and multiple people stopped by the inn to "check on" him.
Why you working here? You short on cash, boy?
Did your security business already fail? Bless your heart. I remember when Jed Goodfellow tried to open that fancy sour cream store. You 'member that? He called it yogurt, but I know sour cream when I taste it.
You rack up a big bill last time you stayed here? Them pay-to-view movies can be expensive. I reckon I should have asked to work the counter in exchange for that porno I accidentally ordered.
No one asked if he was sweet on Thea, at least, which he'd expected. And it pleased him that nobody asked, of course it pleased him, but it also troubled him. Could no one picture them together?
Unwilling to answer any questions, he diverted everyone's attention to Princess. She was a cute little thing with both back legs wrapped in bandages. Not that she cared for the attention; she growled at every newcomer.
All the while, Daniel remained on alert for Thea. He couldn't not watch her whenever she appeared; every fiber of his being was attuned to every fiber of hers. Damn, she was gorgeous. She'd piled her dark curls on the crown of her head, and praise be to God above, she'd once again forgone makeup. His favorite freckles were on display.
She wore a pair of purple scrubs, and even with her Barbie doll features--those big eyes and plump lips--she looked about as innocent as a Sunday-school teacher.
He knew the decadent curves hidden underneath her clothes, a carnal secret he shared with no other man in town.
His gaze lingered on her delicate hands. She'd added red polka dots to her nail polish. Hopeful and angry.
Angry at him? Or Holly?
Either way, thoughts of war had no chance to intrude. The memory of Thea standing in his room, exquisitely naked, remained front and center in his mind all day, threatening to fry every brain cell he possessed. Well, fry his brain cells more.
The lack of workable circuits might explain his rush to protect her from a hundred pounds of goth fury, as if she were about to be murdered with an ice pick. But he'd simply reacted. The woman who'd blushed as she propositioned him deserved hugs, not slugs.
He was petting Princess when Thea peeked her head around the corner.
"Um, about our..." She licked her lips, obviously nervous, and glanced behind her to ensure no one stood nearby. "Evening together," she concluded in a whisper. "Since we don't want anyone to know about us, you'll have to meet me at the Scratching Post."
He swallowed a laugh, knowing she wouldn't understand his amusement.
Didn't think he'd make a move in a crowd? Challenge accepted.
"Fine. I planned to take you into the city to pick fabric for the theme room. If you'll send me links to what you like, I'll pick it up myself. Then I'll meet you at the bar. What time?"
"Nine?"
"You want me to decide? Are you ceding control to me already?"
"Already? Try never." She scowled at him, a little kitten pretending to be a tiger. "Meet me at nine." A firm statement this go-round.
He experienced a familiar rush of excitement, exactly what he'd lived for since leaving the military. But underneath the excitement? A hint of impatience and a dash of irritation. He wanted this bundle of delicious contradictions now.
"I'll be there," he said with a nod. Nothing would keep him away.
The bell above the front door tinkled, and Dr. Vandercamp strode inside the lobby. Princess didn't growl at him, but she didn't rush over to greet him, either. That's my girl.
"I'm headed back to the office," Vandercamp said, "and thought I'd check on our pup."
The word our raised Daniel's hackles.
Thea took a step forward, wringing her hands, the scent of her fogging his head. "Brett? Brett Vandercamp?"
The doctor looked her up and down and brightened. "Dottie. Hi."
"Her name is Dorothea," Daniel snapped.
She ignored him. "How are you, Brett? I'd heard you moved back to town to take over your dad's veterinary hospital."
"I'm well, and you heard correctly. How about you? What have you been up to?"
She played with a loose tendril of hair, the curl coiling around her finger. Her color was high--because of douche-nozzle Vandercamp?
"I'm even better now that you're here," Thea said with a tremulous smile. "You look good."
"So do you. Very good."
What. The. Hell. Were they flirting?
"I didn't realize you two were friends," Daniel grated.
"I tutored Brett," Thea said, her gaze remaining on the vet. "Thanks to me, he made an A in history."
Vandercamp rested an elbow on the counter, leaning toward her as if he had every right to invade her personal space. "I haven't seen you around, had no idea you'd grown even prettier."
"Really? You think so?" She blushed the loveliest shade of rose. "I mean, of course I've grown prettier. Thank you for noticing."
When Daniel had complimented her, she'd called him a liar.
Annoyed, he inserted himself between the pair. "Are y
ou here about the dog or trolling for a date?"
"Why not both?" Far from intimidated, Vandercamp picked up and examined Princess. He changed her bandages and said, "What do you say, Dot--Dorothea? Want to go out sometime?"
Her breath caught in her throat, as if she couldn't believe something so wonderful was happening to her.
Say no. She had better say--
"Yes. I'd like that."
Daniel gripped the edge of the counter with so much force he feared he would crack the wood. As Thea exchanged numbers with Vandercamp, he focused on his breathing. In, out. In...out.
When the vet left at long last--good riddance!--Daniel glared at the flustered Thea. "You're dating me."
His little kitten showed her claws, hissing, "I'm dating you under duress. We are not exclusive, Mr. Room Wrecker. If we were, then and only then could you warn me away from Brett."
I will not punch a wall. She was the only woman he wanted, and he expected to be the only man she wanted. "What would you like me to wear for our date?" The words shot from him, as sharp as daggers.
Her gaze slid over his white button up and dark slacks. His Sunday best, as his momma used to say. "Wear a T-shirt and jeans. No, sweatpants." She waved a finger over him. "And make sure both are baggy."
The motion startled Princess, who snarled at her. To his surprise, Thea stuck out her tongue at the dog. A second later, she covered her mouth with her hand, those shamrock eyes wide. Then she giggled. Soon the giggle bloomed into an all-out laugh. The amusement lit her entire face, making his chest ache.
She's mine, and I won't share. But she's right. If our relationship is to remain a secret, I can't warn Vandercamp away.
He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.
A boom of thunder rattled the building, and Princess quieted. She began to tremble. He pressed her against his chest. Sometimes, in the heat of battle, explosions and gunfire raging all around him, he and his buds had to lie down and press together in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity to strike...or for death to strike them. Feeling another's heartbeat had been their only tether to life.
"Finally! We're getting some action." Thea messed with her phone. "There's a ninety-five percent chance of hail." She skipped to the door to...record the storm?
"You like hail?"
"Don't be silly. Only crazy people like hail," she said--while grinning. "Maybe a freak snowstorm will blow in and a tornado will hit. We could have a snowquakenado blizzard. Do you know how awesome that would be?"
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