by A. M. Wilson
Adrenaline spikes at her offer. “Absolutely. I’m available for a trial clean any day this week.”
Her smile isn’t unkind, but her upper lip curls into a slight sneer. “Perfect. How’s tomorrow? Between work and this little guy, my house is just too big to keep up with in my free time.”
I keep up with the polite curl of my lips while she flaunts her status. “I can give you my number, and you can text me your address.”
We exchange information, and I carry my supplies back to my car with an extra bounce in my step.
I toss Ghost her new plush as soon as I enter the car, and she sinks her teeth right into it. For a big pit bull, she’s surprisingly a gentle chewer. The new toy should last her a while. We zip back across town, and I pull into what I’ve decided is my spot at the truck stop.
I crack the windows and fire up a social media app on my phone. I search for Arrow Creek and come across a community group. Bingo.
First, I tap out a generic post regarding my cleaning services. Then I create one for a pet-sitter. The nerves are heavier with the second. More than likely because if I can’t find someone to watch my dog, the first post will be moot.
Hi, everyone. I’m looking for a last-minute dog sitter for a few hours tomorrow. Any recommendations on openings? She’s a three-year-old pit bull and super sweet.
“Stay pretty, Ghost.” The deaf dog doesn’t shift as I snap a cute picture of her lounging on my passenger seat. Her paws are crossed, and her head rests on top of them. I add the picture to my post.
A few replies trickle in as I wait.
There’s a kennel on main street. I believe it’s $50/day.
OMG a pit bull?? Dangerous. No, thank you.
Nerves surface when I think about leaving my baby with a stranger. How am I going to find the perfect fit in less than twenty-four hours? A kennel would be a last resort. I set my phone aside and stroke Ghost’s short fur.
The crunch of gravel alerts me to an approaching car. I swivel to watch it drive in, and my heart stutters at the sight of the familiar Jeep.
Crap! It can’t be.
I sink lower as if that’ll somehow disguise me from the driver. Typical Millennial. We avoid opening knocked doors, answering unknown numbers, and apparently try to hide in plain sight from hot men.
Rather than creep and indulge my curiosity, I pick my phone back up to check the replies. Just below the bitch who stereotyped all pit bulls, I see a reply that sounds promising.
Cami Briggs
My fifteen-year-old daughter is off school tomorrow and would love to hang with your sweet girl. I’ll message you.
My inbox already indicates a new message.
Cami: Hi. What time do you need someone to watch your dog? I can drop my daughter off.
I reply immediately.
Me: Thanks for the message. I’m actually looking for somewhere I can leave my dog for a few hours. I’m new here and haven’t set up my house yet.
Not technically a lie. If I ignore that I’m living out of my car for the foreseeable future.
Her reply is almost instant.
Cami: Not a problem. That’s even better. Come a little early so we can chat beforehand. Here’s my address.
I type the location into my GPS app. She’s right in town.
“Did you get lost on your way out of here?”
I scream and accidentally bat my phone to the floor by my feet. Both hands wrap tight around the steering wheel as I turn a heated glare out my window.
“Was that necessary?”
Rhett rolls a toothpick around the corner of his lip. “Was about to ask you the same thing.” He appears to look at my phone’s new resting place, though the shades covering his eyes conceal his scrutiny.
“You scared me.”
“Clearly.”
I squint against the bright sun. “Can I help you with something?”
“Just wondering what you’re doing back here, Rosie.”
“It’s Evie.”
That damn lucky toothpick rolls to the other side of his mouth, but he remains quiet.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I fill the silence with another comment. Why I feel the need is beyond me. Maybe if I keep my mouth shut, he’d go on about his business.
He leans against my car, right next to my face. A hell of a lot of willpower is required not to turn and stare at his crotch placed conveniently at eye level.
“I’m not the one just passing through.” He throws a version of my words back at me.
“I guess we’re both planning to stay a while.”
Neat brows dip below the dark shades covering his eyes. “You’re planning to stay here?” He throws an arm out at the convenience store before us.
Flames lick my cheeks at the admission. I straighten my spine and jut my chin. “It’s temporary.”
“Fuck,” he mutters low, just audible above the scrape of his shoe against the gravel.
“I don’t need your judgment,” I snap.
Both hands rise in a placating gesture, and he dips his head near my window in pursuit of my face. “None from me, Rosie.”
“Why are you calling me that?” I ask with a hint of the embarrassment still smoldering.
He straightens and tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Because when I look at your hair, all I can picture is lying in a bed of roses.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Is that a euphemism?”
He pulls the toothpick from between his lips. “Do you want it to be?” His voice drops low.
A shiver chases away the remnants of mortification and replaces it with something tantalizing.
Rhett suddenly knocks on the roof of my car and drags me reluctantly from wayward thoughts. “I have somewhere to be, but I expect you to be here at six o’clock tonight.”
I flatten my mouth into a thin line. “I don’t take orders, buddy.”
“If you’re as adventurous as you seem, you’ll take this one.”
“And if I don’t?” I shout at his retreating back.
He halts completely, turning only his chin to his shoulder to glance back. “Then you’ll be missing a damn good meal, Rosie.”
5
Rhett
Shades cover my eyes for the hangover I nurse well into the evening as I stand in the deli lane at the local grocery store. Thinking about Evie sleeping in her car sends a gut clench through me again. Even though she’s a stranger, no woman should be put in her position. I’m determined to win her over with a hot meal and pry some info out of her pretty head.
Swear to Christ if my bitch of an ex wasn’t holding my money hostage, I’d put Evie up at Arrow’s Inn for as long as she needed. The weather hasn’t quite signaled summer, and I know from sleeping in my own vehicle that the nights remain cold.
The image of her curled with her she-demon dog for warmth infiltrates my groggy brain, and I clench my fists.
The least I can do is cover a meal for the sassy stranger who’s inhabited my mind since yesterday.
The steam from the bag warms my forearm as I take the packaged meal from the cashier and return to my vehicle. This is a step up from fast food, albeit not by much. Thanks to Nora, it’s the only thing I can offer.
Another gut clench steals my breath, and I twist my fingers around the wheel as I pull into the convenience store parking lot. A swirl of nausea returns that I tell myself remains from the night before and not because the white Lexus is nowhere to be found. I back the Jeep into a spot near where she parked this morning and kill the ignition. With nothing else to do, I roll down my windows to enjoy the last rays of the sinking sun and settle in to enjoy my picnic dinner by myself.
Halfway through my first chicken drumstick, the spin of tires on gravel alerts me to an approaching vehicle. A flash of anticipation skips a heartbeat. I sink my teeth into the meat to chase it away and watch that burgundy head of curls emerge.
A pair of winged, heavy-rimmed shades covers her gaze as she sashays my way with an allur
ing sway to her hips. A jade-green skirt that she changed into since this morning swishes around her calves. The simple white V-neck tee stretched across her tits and knotted around her waist steals the show for me.
“Get your ass in here, Rosie.”
She stops short and straightens her spine. I sink my teeth into my lower lip to conceal a smirk that I have a feeling will piss her off more.
“I think I’ve changed my mind,” she shouts at me through my open window.
Fuck. Before I lose what may be my only chance at a real conversation, I drop my food and hop out so fast my seat belt buckle clanks against the doorframe. I yank open the door to my passenger side.
“Your dinner awaits.”
Her steps halt, but she doesn’t turn back to me.
“Please.” I tack on for good measure. She doesn’t know me, but I’m not above begging. Something about her intrigues me like no woman before. I swat the silly thought from my mind.
With a twist of her feet on the gravel, she strolls back to the open door. She passes by, places one foot on the floorboard of my Jeep, and leans back out through the open window to put her face directly in mine.
“You’re on thin ice, Rhett.”
That may be so, but the flush on her cheeks tells me she enjoys it.
“How thin?” I drop my voice to a husky rumble. The seduction game is one I’m familiar with, and the best played ends up with no losers, which I intend to be the case.
The pucker of her plump mouth sends a sizzle straight to my dick.
She says nothing more. Her other leg joins the first, and she seats herself firmly in my passenger seat. I push the door shut. With my fingers clenching the open window, I lean partially inside.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
Too bad those sunglasses cover her eyes. The way her breath quickens, I’d guess she hears the undercurrent of my meaning. I’d like nothing more than to feed her my cock and finish her pussy off for dessert.
Yesterday was a missed opportunity I don’t intend to pass up again.
I climb back in and hand her a Styrofoam pint and plastic spoon. She holds them as if savoring the warmth in her palms.
“Are you cold?”
She shrugs. “Not really.”
I look pointedly at her hands, and she follows my gaze. An exaggerated swallow precedes her explanation.
“Um, it’s been a while since I’ve had a hot meal.”
Fuck. “How long?”
She busies herself by uncapping the container. Tendrils of steam curl into the air, and she lowers her face into them. “About two weeks if you don’t count fast food joints. I have to say, a greasy burger is nothing compared to this.”
I swallow past a lump in my throat. “That’s broccoli cheddar. I have a turkey wild rice if you prefer…”
“Oh, no. This looks divine. Thank you.” Her breathy appreciation isn’t necessary. It’s just a fucking cup of soup.
“Here, I got this too.” I snag the tub of chicken pieces from my dash and settle it on the center console.
She immediately reaches in and pulls out a drumstick. “Be careful. You’re spoiling me, Rhett.” She sinks her teeth into the drumstick and groans. “Seriously, though. I need to repay you. I start work tomorrow, and I can get you cash.”
Her words fill me with irritation. “It’s my treat, Rosie.”
Her shades clatter against the dash when she tosses them there. “Whatever. The next one’s on me then.”
I give a one-shoulder shrug. The next time will be mine as well. And the time after that. One thing Nora couldn’t kill is my chivalry.
“What job did you find?” I circle back to her previous comment.
Her eyes alight with excitement for the first time since we met. The stunning hazel shade appears nearly olive green in the waning sunlight.
“I’m starting a cleaning business. I had a side gig back home for extra cash. The startup is fairly light, and I managed to find my first client today while picking up supplies.”
I pop the top off my Styrofoam cup and drink the warm soup straight without a spoon. “I have some friends in town I could spread the word to.”
Her direct smile up close punches me in the gut.
“That’d be great. I can give you my phone number in case anyone is interested.” Leaning back in her seat, she blows a bit of steam from her spoon before savoring her first bite. “This is really good.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, the word sticking in my throat as I watch her enjoy a fucking cup of soup.
“What is it you do?” Her question seamlessly resumes the conversation.
“I run my grandfather’s extermination company. My grandparents adopted me as an infant, and when he was ready to retire, I took over the family business. It doesn’t sound like much, but we service three counties. I owe him a lot.”
“I think a stable career sounds impressive.”
An awkwardness settles over me for divulging too much. “What brings you to Arrow Creek?”
The stiffness of her neck reveals I struck something personal, but she recovers quickly. She savors one last bite of soup in her mouth before replacing the lid and setting the disposable cup on the dash. I don’t know what I expected of her expression, but when she faces me with red lining her eyes, I know it wasn’t that.
Sorrow bleeds from every inch, every crease of worry. “I made a mistake, and I lost everything.”
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, at a loss for what else to say. It doesn’t seem like my place to pry when we’re basically strangers.
She shrugs. “I know better for next time.” The heaviness shrouds the vehicle in regret, and I sense she’s about to flee.
“It makes you human, not a monster.”
“What?”
“Mistakes. Regret. It doesn’t make you a monster, no matter who you hurt or how badly you hurt them. It makes you human.”
“I think the person I hurt the most is myself.”
“Do you want me to make you feel better?”
“You couldn’t possibly—” That’s all she gets out before I silence her with my lips.
I settle my mouth against hers, plump and warm. The kiss is soft and exploring as I gently coax her to let me try.
We might be complete strangers, but my empathy burns bright for this woman stuck in a similar situation. The telling sign comes as her lips begin to move beneath mine.
“Say the word, and I can help. If only for a little while,” I mumble against her warm mouth.
A quiet moan escapes on her breath. “The word,” she pants before palming the side of my head and bringing me back.
She tastes my grin before I tuck it away for later and attack her mouth with more intensity. I nip her bottom lip in a request to open, and when she does, I slip my tongue inside. Her hair tangles nicely in my fist. I tug her head to the side for access and forge a trail of kisses down her neck. The sounds of her moans spur me on to deliver on my promise.
I tug her head upright again and release my grip on her silky locks. My palm settles on the base of her throat, where I tighten my fingers around the flimsy column. A squeeze serves as a warning. Her rounded eyes seeking mine find surprise. I’ve never grabbed a woman’s throat before, but something inside me wants to possess her.
“Put your right foot on the dash, Rosie.”
Moving only our eyes, we watch her comply as I keep her head pinned.
Her skirt swoops lower when she raises her right foot as asked. A chilled breeze sweeps through the open windows and billows the green fabric between her legs.
“Spread them wide.” The order scrapes like gravel up my throat.
She rests one knee on the open window ledge and the other against the console.
I press my thumb into the side of her throat, feeling the steady thrum of her carotid, and flick my attention to her face. Rather than fear, her dilated pupils reveal she’s turned way the fuck on.
“Does the open window make you cold?”
“A-A little.”
I dip my head and suck her lower lip into my mouth, drawing from her a breathy moan.
“Then we should warm you up. Don’t you think?”
“Yes.” She tries to lift her lips to mine, but I hold her in place with a warning squeeze and a tsk.
“Hold still. If you move around too much, someone might see what you’re doing.” With a wicked grin, I gather the fabric closest to me and drag it up her leg. “If you can hold still, no one will suspect a thing.”
Her mouth drops open on a pant as my fingers slowly walk along her smooth, pale skin to her panties. I release her throat and press my forehead against hers in order to watch. I want to see her face change as I plunge into her for the first time. I switch the fabric of her skirt into my right hand and use my left to force the gusset of her panties to the side. The damp material clings to the back of my hand.
“Last warning, Rosie.” I drag my index finger along her wet slit.
She pants and shakes her head, halting my movements.
“Is that a no?”
Her head shakes again.
“Use your words, or this stops.”
She flushes scarlet from the tip of her V-neck to the roots of her hair. “I need you to finger me.”
My own groan works its way out, and I bury my face in her neck. I wasn’t expecting her to be so explicit, but the words finger me send a rush straight to my dick. Her bold demeanor makes everyone before this moment seem inadequate.
I part her flesh and delve my middle finger in straight to the hilt. She gasps in my ear.
As I slowly retreat and push my finger in again, I work the side of her neck with my mouth. I suck and nibble and taste the sensitive area below her ear, careful not to leave a mark. She curls her elbow and palms the back of my head, holding me to her. Her tits thrust out as her hips buck into my hand.
“Want more?”
Rather than speak, she nods frantically against me. On my next outward glide, I add another finger and work them both inside. My thumb finds her clit. I rest my forehead against her temple and watch as desire washes over her face.
Her mouth drops open again while her neck arches against the headrest, and her sounds of pleasure would put any porn star into retirement. Not that she’s even remotely acting. She’s vocal in a way most women are afraid to be. I wipe my grin across her cheek before taking her lips to silence her. Although the erotic noises are my new favorite melody, I don’t want to attract attention before I bring her over the finish.