The Hero I Need: A Small Town Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  “Good idea.” I’ve already laid out a slab of meat in the center of the pen, hoping Bruce will go for it.

  If we’re lucky, maybe his nighttime excursion worked up an appetite.

  Our plan works perfectly.

  Within minutes, Bruce is settled back in the barn, with the meat devoured and the new sliding door closed and locked. My last look inside shows him licking his chops.

  A short time later, Grady leaves to take the stock trailer back to Drake’s house, and Hank heads home.

  I peek in on the girls, both still fast asleep, and then flop down on the sofa.

  It’s after five in the flipping morning and I’m so tired I feel emptied out.

  Even so, I wait until I hear Grady’s truck pull in closer to the house before drifting off.

  There’s no doubt now—not that there was much before.

  This damaged, growly man with a gold-plated heart is the hero I need, and the savior I deserve.

  God help me.

  * * *

  “It’s utterly pathetic, Niles. Why, you should’ve seen the look on that cretin’s face when I told him if he didn’t want to pay in full, I’d take our lovely furball and march him right back to—”

  I’m standing in the doorframe to the Fosses’ office with my heart drumming in my throat.

  “Don’t you ever knock?” Priscilla snarls, twisting angrily in her seat, her heels so tall she might snap her neck if she tries to stand up abruptly and falls.

  “Um, sorry. I just came to let you know Bruce seems extra restless today...” I’d noticed him pacing his enclosure since morning, and then the low, mournful sounding growl when I fed him in the evening.

  He was slow to eat, which was way weird...

  Almost like he’s expecting something.

  “Oh, posh, not the upset tummy again.” She sighs, clicking her long pink nails on her desk. “Don’t tell me—we need another look from the vet?”

  “Dear.” Niles gives his wife a stern look, his lantern jaw clenched. “I believe he’s scheduled for a checkup within the next week. Remember?”

  This weird, sinister looking energy darts back and forth as they make eye contact, and then both turn to face me again.

  “For such a talented, highly observant young woman, you sure do worry a lot,” Priscilla says, her tone oddly flat. “Tell you what, missy. Seeing how Niles and I have both got twenty years in with big cats—even if we don’t have one of your fancy degrees—how about you trust us on this one, hmm?”

  My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

  I’m not sure what the hell to say to that. I just know the way they keep looking at each other implies there’s some seriously bad vibes coming.

  Bad news for Bruce.

  “Understood. I’ll keep an eye on him and I’m sorry to have bothered you,” I whisper, slowly backing out.

  But before I’m able, Niles stands, a tall whipcord of a man. He moves across the office in two lunging steps and grabs the door, looking down at me.

  “Forgive me, Miss Macklin, but you’re certain you’re not becoming...shall we say, attached to Bruce?” His eyes are haunted pinpricks, daggers aimed at my soul.

  What the hell does he mean? My skin crawls.

  “I mean, I...I know how things work around here,” I assure them, forcing the phoniest smile of my life. “I know we look after the animals as long as we’re able, and sometimes they have to move on. For their own good. You...you’ve made that very clear. Bruce is a darling, but if you think I’d ever object—”

  “You’d better bloody well not,” he spits in that ice-cold accent that’s not quite British, but not American either. I wonder if it’s something he picked up on the British side of the Virgin Islands he’s disturbingly obsessed with.

  “Niles!” The Queen Bitch hisses behind him.

  He stands up to his full height, barely flustered, adjusting his tie. Then he plasters on that hellish smile I want to rip right off his face.

  “My apologies for the harsh tone. No, you’d never be so foolish, certainly. I think you’re practically one of us now, Miss Macklin,” he says with an ominous, sly smile. “In another month or two, we’d like to see how you’ll handle the full overnight shift.”

  Oh, God.

  I almost faint, a thousand dark thoughts whipping through my head like a spinning slideshow. The people who come at night are the dirty ones—or else the people who let the monsters make this their playground, who turn a blind eye to innocent animals vanishing in the darkness.

  “Yeah, okay!” I whisper, already backing away as he stares after me.

  “Keep up the diligent work, and I’m sure we’ll see you among the stars.”

  I’m down the hall when I break into a run and hot tears come stinging down my cheeks, my thoughts in a crashing panic.

  Like hell, you demon turd.

  I’m not just going to stand by hating you.

  I’m going to run, first chance I get, and you’ll have to murder me before I ever let you lay a claw on that beautiful tiger baby.

  * * *

  “Bruce!” I jerk up in a panic, calling his name, slick with sweat despite the almost frigid air-conditioning overcompensating for the muggy heat.

  Just a nightmare.

  He’s safe.

  Thank God, and thank him again for sending me Grady, too.

  I sink back into the couch, a pillow under my head and a thin blanket covering me.

  The full light filling the room makes me blink several times, trying to decipher if that’s what woke me, or if it was something else.

  I’m guessing it’s noon, if not later, by the brightness.

  A deep breath brings in the smell of rich coffee. I sit up, stretch, and yawn. The mantle clock above the fireplace shows it’s after eleven in morning. Earlier than I thought.

  An odd noise comes from outside, and I throw back the blanket, stand, and walk to the window.

  A crew of men with a boom truck are busy putting in a new yard light pole. Grady is out there, too, talking to one of them.

  I wonder if he’s gotten any sleep.

  My cheeks flush as I recall what was about to go down right before Bruce escaped.

  Holy hell.

  If that wasn’t a true sign that naked times shouldn’t be happening, nothing is. I’m here for one reason, and it doesn’t include doing the horizontal mambo with Grady in every deliriously hot position known to man and woman.

  What was I thinking?

  I wasn’t.

  Bingo, there’s my problem.

  Leaving the window, I pad through the house to steal a cup of coffee on my way through the kitchen, slugging down half of it before heading for the shower.

  Luckily, I washed a second load of laundry last night, so I have plenty to wear, including a fresh bra.

  The girls are in the kitchen when I come back, French toast and sausage links stacked high on their plates. Grady is there, too, pouring coffee from a fresh pot he must’ve made.

  “Did you get any sleep?” I ask as I set my empty cup on the counter. “Hit me with another round, sir.”

  His grin is enough to remind me how I wound up downstairs on his futon.

  “Here you go, darlin’. Welcome to the land of the living.”

  Good Lord, he’s a sight for sore eyes, even at the butt-crack of noon after a frenzied night out tiger hunting.

  I don’t have the defense to fight off the magnetic pull he has on me.

  Guess I need to work on that.

  “As for sleep, I snuck in a couple hours before the power company showed up.” He taps the end of my nose. “You were so conked out on the sofa, you didn’t make a single sound when I got you a pillow and blanket.”

  “Oh, jeez, thanks for that. I meant to stay awake until you got home.” My cheeks burn again.

  He probably thinks I’d wanted to stay awake and join him on the futon again.

  “I’m so sorry I missed brunch. I would’ve helped you,” I say, changing th
e subject to get his mind, and mine, on something more boring than our missed opportunity for death defying monkey-sex.

  “You needed to sleep in, and breakfast duty’s my gig, remember?” He leans against the counter. “They should be done with the repair job in an hour, then I have to go to the bar and check it for damage. Gotta stay on top of anything worth the insurance claim. From the sound of it, those winds wreaked havoc across the whole county last night.”

  “Can we go with you, Dad?” Sawyer asks between bites of syrupy toast. “We haven’t been to the bar in ages.”

  He flashes her a dad smile that blows my ovaries into confetti.

  “You mean you haven’t played the arcade games for a couple weeks,” he says.

  “Almost like a month!” Avery says. “Not weeks.”

  “I stand corrected. Sure, you can tag along.” He takes a full drink of coffee while looking at me. “You’d might as well come, too. We’ll eat a late lunch there and save you the trouble of fixing something. It’s bar food, but it’s decent. The Bobcat lives up to my favorite celebrity chef’s standards.”

  My mind is still in the past, remembering the smoldering looks from last night, the heat of his kiss, the want that’s beginning to spark in my veins.

  I almost forget to answer as I take another pull of coffee.

  “Oh, okay. You’re still that worried about my cooking, I see,” I tease.

  He laughs. “Better safe than sorry.”

  I stick my tongue out at him and grab an apple from the bowl on the counter to hold me over until lunch. I peer over the top of it as I sink my teeth in, my eyes fixed on Grady.

  The girls roll back in their seats, laughing.

  “Just be ready in an hour,” he tells us, flashing that picture-perfect smile over his shoulder.

  The girls talk about the games they like while I grab a nibble of French toast—yes, it’s magnificent—and tell me how their father only lets them hang out when there won’t be many people at the bar. They stick to the video games and arcade machines because they’re too young for darts.

  Their excitement continues until we arrive at the bar.

  Grady gives them each a twenty-dollar bill to spend on the row of games lining one wall.

  No one else is at the Bobcat, and Grady spends a few minutes checking doors and opening shades before he says he’s going to check out back for damage.

  The place is rustic, plastered in homey old beer signs and country jokes, but it’s also got a modern vibe I like. You’d be hard-pressed not to feel at ease enjoying an evening of fun here.

  I watch the girls play their games until I see Grady’s finished his inspection, then I meet him near the long, highly shellacked bar.

  “Everything still in one piece?” I ask, pulling over a glass of water he serves.

  “Near enough. Like Weston and Hank said, nothing but the trash got flipped, and they took care of that cleanup. Austin just arrived—he’s the cook today—and I asked him to put on some chicken wings for the girls when he has a chance. What would you like?”

  “Wings sound good,” I say. “Anything I can do to help out? I feel like I’m just twiddling my thumbs.”

  “Gotta catch up on some paperwork.” He grimaces slightly. “If you want to put your lovely organizational skills to good use, I have a few piles of receipts and shipping orders that need to be filed for accounting.”

  “Show me!” I say, glad to not just stand around.

  He opens a door behind the bar that reveals a decent-sized office with stacks of papers on top of every flat surface.

  “It doesn’t all have to be sorted today,” he says, gesturing to a round table in one corner. “Just the two stacks there. I usually take an evening every week just for filing things, but I haven’t gotten around to it lately with all the fun.”

  We trade smiles.

  “All right. Do they get filed in that cabinet?” I nod at the black metal filing cabinet next to the table.

  “Good guess. There should be a file next to the invoices that have already been approved, paid, and entered into the system. I just keep paper copies for audits.”

  “I’m on it, boss!” I say, very deliberately brushing his wall of a body as I saunter past.

  Not so fast.

  He touches my arm, stopping me from crossing the room, and slowly winds his fingers around my wrist.

  The look on his face makes my heart race.

  I don’t want him to kiss me, I think, because that shouldn’t keep happening. Not again.

  Yeah, I’m not very good at convincing myself, either.

  “Daaaad!” Sawyer shouts from the main room. “The Bug Hunt machine malfunctioned and ate my money!”

  He pinches his lips together and shakes his head, releasing my hand with a sigh.

  “I’d better get on that. Whole world might end if the kids can’t take potshots at cartoon bumblebees.”

  “Got you covered,” I say with a grin, hurrying to the table to start my task, telling myself I’m glad for the interruption.

  Again, I’m a horrible little liar.

  The next half hour feels awkward. Mostly because I’m trying to justify not kissing him again next time we’re alone, and it’s getting more impossible by the second.

  The girls shout when the chicken wings are served, along with fries and sodas.

  We sit at the table together, talking and laughing. Easy when the girls are so comical, and their little fights over who beat what arcade game ease the tension inside me.

  Once we return to Grady’s office, I’m definitely feeling better—even with the smoldering, lip-biting sideways glances Mr. Broody-Brood keeps casting my way.

  While Sawyer and Avery run on like tiny chatterboxes, I’m reminded how it’s always been just the three of them for a long time, and how sweetly they’ve welcomed me into their lives.

  I should be honored.

  They’ve helped me in a desperate time and I have to pay it back somehow.

  I definitely can’t leave behind damage.

  After we eat, I get the filing done in no time and straighten the room.

  Grady comes in and out of the office, greeting employees as they arrive for the evening, as well as the first few customers. We leave before the bar gets super busy and then spend the rest of the afternoon at home cleaning up the yard.

  The storm knocked loose plenty of leaves and branches, plus a few last footprints from Bruce I’d missed. I scratch them out of the ground carefully.

  The girls head off on their ATVs a little while later, endless bundles of energy, saying they want to check the trails for more messes to clear.

  Nope. They’re just ready for some play after all the yard work, and who am I to object?

  They really are good kids, and I’m going to miss them like mad whenever Bruce and I leave.

  “Want to join them?” Grady asks, towering over me.

  I turn from watching them ride away and shake my head.

  “No, let them play. I was just thinking what great kids you have.”

  “Glad you agree,” he says, but he’s looking at me with a heavy, thoughtful gaze, his eyes flashing.

  “What?” I ask, suddenly feeling shy.

  He tilts his head slightly to one side. “I get the feeling you’ve been thinking about what happened last night. Maybe you’re changing your mind about a redo.”

  Wowza.

  So that’s what’s on his mind behind that lady-killer smile. Or he just reads my mind that easily.

  I chide myself for not keeping things more hidden.

  I shrug.

  “After Bruce got out and everything, I bet you probably wondered if it was, well—”

  “No. I don’t wonder. It wasn’t a mistake, Willow Wisp.” His growling confidence shocks me to the core as he slides his hands around my waist, bringing me closer. “And if you’re still game, I’ve been looking forward to starting up right where we left off all damn day.”

  Oh, snap.

  He
doesn’t mess around, does he?

  Reason one hundred on the grumpalicious-man-beast-o-meter why Grady McKnight might bring me to my knees. More than literally.

  Excitement flares inside me, sending hot needles through my blood.

  Yes, I’m hopeless, and that’s all there is to it.

  “You...you’re sure?” It comes out like a whimper.

  “Very.” The tip of his nose touches mine, and then our foreheads meet. “If you’re not, whatever. I’ll understand. I only fuck the willing, darlin’, and I want to fuck you like I need my next breath.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “I need you,” I admit, refusing to rethink it all again. I’ll have time to do all that after Bruce and I leave.

  For now, my body does the talking, defying every reason in my head why this is epic trouble.

  And every last bit of me agrees as his hungry lips catch mine in a long, savory kiss.

  Though my knees are weaker when the kiss ends, the rest of me feels totally invigorated.

  For the life of me, I can’t remember why I ever thought kissing him again would be a bad idea. Can’t imagine why I thought any of this wouldn’t feel enthralling.

  “Gonna hit the shower. You do some thinkin’,” he says as we walk together, hand in hand toward the house. “I’ll grill burgers for supper.”

  “Sounds delish. I’ll make a macaroni salad while you’re in the shower,” I say, trying not to stay stuck on the image forming in my mind.

  Grady, buck naked.

  His miles of muscle slick and wet.

  That massive bulge I’d felt rubbing against me last night hanging down...or would it be very upright? Intense and pulsing and oh-so-ready to—

  “Plan B: you could shower with me.” He lifts a brow while opening the front door.

  My heart skips its next ten beats as I stumble inside.

  “Oh, yes, I mean...argh! The girls won’t be gone that long, will they?” Blood rushes to my cheeks, at least what little I have left above the waist.