Operation K-9 Brothers

by Sandra Owens

  “Thanks. See you soon.”

  He set the phone back on the counter. “There you go, you shameless beggar. You got an invite.”

  Dakota barked.

  * * *

  The words Jack had planned to say at seeing Nichole were lost the moment she opened the door.

  “Are you okay?” she said when he just stood in front of her, mute.

  He shook his head.

  She put her hand on his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s called a Nichole Fever. I’m burning up.” His gaze roamed over her. “Give me a minute.”

  The black dress showed off every delicious curve, but it was the cutout above the swell of her left breast that snagged his eyes. About three inches long and an inch wide, it was outlined in red, and sexy as hell. A tantalizing glimpse of skin in an otherwise simple dress. It was sleeveless, the bodice reaching the bottom of her neck, and the hem stopping just above her knees. On her feet were strappy red heels that buckled around her ankles.

  “If I start drooling, I’m blaming you,” he said.

  She smiled, her eyes filled with delight. “Then I probably shouldn’t show you the back.”

  “You probably shouldn’t but do it anyway.” He made a circle with his index finger. “Sweet baby Jesus,” he rasped when she turned.

  The dress was backless right down to just above the curve of her ass where a small red bow perched. He exhaled a long breath as his gaze traveled back up to her hair. She’d pulled it up on one side, securing it with a red clasp. The other half of her hair curled around her shoulders.

  When his team was downrange, they alternated between heart-stopping battles and times of pure boredom. During those boring days, they’d pass around books and magazines. He remembered an article he’d read a year or so ago that men associated the color red with sex. He could now swear to the truth of that, even with only splashes of red in strategic places—her feet, over her breast, at the lowest part of her spine, and in her beautiful hair.

  “Nichole.”

  “Hmm?” She glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “You’re a very dangerous woman.” He stepped up to her before she could turn to face him and put his hands on her upper arms. Sliding them down, he threaded their fingers. “To me,” he whispered into her ear.

  “Thank you, I think.”

  “No, thank you. Before I forget I’m supposed to take you out, let’s get the dogs settled so we can be on our way. We have dinner reservations in thirty minutes.”

  “Rambo’s already in his crate.” She glanced down at Dakota, sitting quietly at their feet. “Hello, pretty girl. How about you have a serious talk with Rambo about chewing up my shoes.”

  “One way to avoid that is to remove temptation.”

  She sighed. “I know. I’m used to kicking off my running shoes right inside my back door, a habit I need to break. He chewed up a second pair today, so he’s not been a good boy.”

  They left Dakota inside, and as Jack walked out with Nichole, he put his hand on her back, her skin warm under his palm. “Have I told you how much I like this dress?”

  “I think you might have mentioned it.” She paused at seeing the car. “Oh, I was expecting to have to climb into your truck.”

  “This was my dad’s.” His father had been a car nut, and the silver 2004 Thunderbird Roadster had been his last car. It was a good memory of his dad, so he’d kept it.

  “It’s super cool.”

  He opened the door for her. “I think so, too.” After she was seated, he walked around to the driver’s side. He slid into his seat and glanced at Nichole. She smiled at him, and there went his heart, doing that twitchy thing again. It was disturbing, but not quite as alarming as the first time it happened.

  Her gaze roamed over him. “You clean up pretty nice, too.”

  “Thank you.” If she knew how much time he’d spent debating what to wear, she’d laugh. He’d ended up with a pile of clothes on his bed before settling on the dark gray pants, a light blue button-down, and the gray sport coat. The surprise had been that he even owned the coat he’d found in his closet. He tried to remember why he had it, but nothing came to him.

  As he turned out of her driveway, a motorcycle approached, and Jack recognized the man as the one he’d seen before, the one she’d said was nobody. The motorcycle slowed, the man staring hard at him.

  “Keep going,” she said, glancing behind her as they drove away. “Damn it, why can’t he just go away?”

  “Who is he?”

  “My ex-boyfriend. He refuses to believe we’re over.”

  Jack pressed down on the pedal. Personally, he’d like to have a few words with the asshole who was bothering her, but that probably wasn’t the best way to start their first date. “Is he stalking you?”

  “Not really. He just keeps coming by, expecting me to get over my snit and fall back into his arms.”

  “Is there a chance of that happening?” He braced for her answer, not liking how much he wanted to hear a no. If she had any feelings for the guy, though, he wanted to know now, before he got comfortable with having a twitchy heart.

  “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.” She glanced behind her again. “Is he following us?”

  Jack was wondering the same thing. He turned at the next corner, his gaze on the rearview mirror. The motorcycle followed them. Turning on his blinker, he pulled onto the shoulder. Her ex wasn’t going to ruin his first date with Nichole.

  “Jack.” She put her hand on his arm. “Please just go.”

  “And what? Have him follow us into the restaurant?” Her face paled, which only made him more determined that the asshole was going to leave her alone. “No man should harass a woman who doesn’t want his attention. He needs to understand that.” He opened his door. “Stay here.”

  She grabbed his arm. “Please don’t fight him.”

  He couldn’t promise that. It depended on her ex. He wouldn’t start a fight, but he wouldn’t run away from one. “Just stay in the car, okay?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he strode to the motorcycle stopped behind them. He straddled the front wheel and put his hands on the handlebar, curling his fingers around the steel. “You’re upsetting Nichole. That doesn’t make me happy. How about you get lost.”

  The man lifted the black-tinted visor of his helmet. “You gonna fucking make me?”

  “Not me. The cops. I already called them. Told them some asshole was following me.” He had a feeling this man wouldn’t want the police nosing around.

  Mean brown eyes slitted. “There’s one thing you need to know, dude. Nichole’s mine, and I don’t like you sniffing around her.”

  “Some valuable intel, dude. Nichole isn’t anyone’s property.” He glanced at his watch. “I figure a police cruiser should be pulling up in about three minutes. I’ll be more than happy to let them sort this out.”

  “You’d be wise to watch your back. I got friends who can make you disappear.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

  This was like watching a bad B movie, and Jack considered laughing in the man’s face. Instead, he let his eyes go ice-cold. “You don’t know me, so you have no reason to believe me, but you should. I’m not a man you want to mess with.” He let go of the handlebars and stepped to the side. “Pretty sure I hear a siren headed this way.”

  The man revved the engine, then burned rubber as he took off. Jack memorized the license plate. He’d call his new friend, Deke, tomorrow, see if the cops had anything on the douchebag. When he returned to the car, he said, “You need to take out a restraining order on that guy.”

  Nichole wanted to scream. Why couldn’t Lane leave her alone? “I know. I was just hoping it wouldn’t come to that. What did he say?”

  “Oh, he just warned me that I was encroaching on his property.” />
  “Jerk. I’m not anybody’s property.”

  “Told him that. I said I’d called the cops, so he decided he didn’t want to stick around.” He put a hand over hers. “Are you okay? We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.”

  “No way am I letting him ruin my evening. You promised dinner and dancing, and I’m collecting.” Jack was right, though. It was time to get a restraining order.

  “That’s my girl.” He shot her a panty-melting smile. “I should probably warn you. I’m a dancing fool.”

  “But are you any good?”

  He grinned. “Oh, baby, just try to keep up.”

  * * *

  The man hadn’t lied, he could dance. Nichole considered herself a good dancer, but Jack could flat-out move. She grinned as he spun her under his good arm. They’d been on the dance floor for three songs, and she was going to need oxygen soon. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

  The song ended, and before she could tell him she needed to sit this one out, the band segued into a slow song. He pulled her to him, and since there was nowhere else she wanted to be, she slid her hands around his neck. His arms wrapped around her back so that they were pressed together from chests to hips.

  “Where’d you learn to dance like that?” she said.

  “My mom owned a dance studio. She’d recruit me to partner up when there was a shortage of boys in a class. She made me learn it all. Foxtrot, the waltz, the tango, you name it.”

  “I’m impressed. What’s your favorite dance?”

  “The tango.” His eyes heated as he peered down at her. “It’s making love on a dance floor with your clothes on.”

  Oh yeah, sign her up. “That’s a great way to describe it. It is a sensual dance.”

  “I’ll teach you, and then we can come back and show off.”

  She might not survive dancing a tango with him. “I’m afraid my clothes would fall off without any help from me if we did that. They’re already wanting to, and we’re not even tangoing.”

  “Yeah?” He slid his hands to her hips, pressed his fingers into her skin, and put his mouth to her ear. “In that case, we’ll dance it in private.” His hands left her hips, and he pressed a warm palm against her spine. “Did I tell you how much I love this dress, Nichole?” He slowly glided his fingers up her back, then back down again, sending shivers spiraling in all directions. “You like me to touch you, don’t you?”

  Was he kidding? She felt like she was going to end up in a gooey puddle at his feet when he said her name in that raspy way. Never mind that his touching her was making her body sing. Several more of his touches on her bare skin, and she was going to find herself begging.

  He chuckled when she didn’t answer. “If I wasn’t determined to romance you, I’d throw you over my shoulder right now and haul your sexy ass back to my cave.”

  She almost whimpered. “You have a cave?”

  “No, but I’d find one.” The slow song ended, and he led her off the dance floor. “You want to stay or go?”

  “I’m ready to go if you are.” After all the dancing, her feet were killing her, and she didn’t think she could dance another step.

  “I’m hungry. Why don’t we find a Huddle House and have some pancakes or something?”

  “Seriously, after that amazing dinner you’re hungry?” He’d taken her to one of the downtown restaurants, and she’d watched in amazement as he’d devoured a huge steak and all the trimmings.

  He grinned. “Growing boy and all that.” His gaze darted to the left, and he pulled her to a stop. “But first there’s some people I want you to meet.”

  The couple he led her to were in a corner, their attention so focused on each other’s mouths that they didn’t even realize they had company.

  “Hit the road, Jack,” the man said, his lips still glued to the woman’s.

  Okay, maybe the guy was not so unaware, and Nichole tugged on Jack’s hand. They obviously weren’t welcome.

  Jack laughed. “Dude, let go of your wife long enough for me to introduce you two to someone.”

  “Is he still here?” the man said.

  His wife chuckled. “He’s a stubborn one. You might as well talk to him.” She pushed her husband away and smiled at them.

  Jack slid onto the chair across from them, pulling her down next to him. “Deke, Heather, this is Nichole. Nichole, Heather’s my physical therapist, and this ugly thing is her husband. Deke’s a cop, so don’t tell him about that joint you have in your purse.”

  “I do not have a joint in my purse.” She raised her hand. “I swear, Officer.”

  “Mmm, maybe I should frisk you to make sure,” Jack said, his gaze traveling over her.

  Deke snorted. “Nichole, what’s a nice girl like you doing with a bonehead like Jack?”

  “Hey.” Jack slapped a hand over his heart. “You wound me, bro.”

  “Ignore these two clowns,” Heather said. “It’s nice to meet you, Nichole, but you look familiar. Are you sure we’ve never met?”

  “Have you ever been to the River Arts District? I have a pottery booth there where you might have seen me.”

  Heather squealed. “Yes! I even have some of your pottery.” She grabbed Deke’s arm. “She made that beautiful bowl on our coffee table.”

  “You made that?” At her nod, Deke said, “I think my wife loves that bowl more than me.”

  Jack laughed. “Understandable.”

  “Harsh, man,” Deke said.

  They talked and joked for another thirty minutes, and Nichole really liked Jack’s friends. She was pleased when they made plans to get together for dinner on Saturday night. She and Jack stood to leave.

  “I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” Jack said to Deke. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” He glanced at Heather. “And I’ll see you Wednesday for my torture session.”

  “It was great meeting you both,” Nichole said.

  As they walked out, Jack put his hand on her back and smiled down at her as he stroked his fingers up her bare spine. Can we have his baby? her ovaries pleaded. The place was crowded, and he shifted so that he was a little in front of her, clearing a path to the exit. He didn’t push anyone out of the way. It was more that his presence radiated some kind of power that had people moving aside, and that was just hot.

  He’d left her wanting on the night they’d enacted the scene from Ghost, but tonight he was hers, even if she had to tie him up so he couldn’t get away.

  “What’s that smile for?” he said as he opened the car door for her.

  “Just wondering if I have any rope at home.”

  “Huh?”

  She patted his arm. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Not sure that’s a comfort, darlin’.” He slipped his hand to the back of her neck and lowered his mouth to hers. After kissing her senseless, he said, “But you won’t have to tie me up tonight to have your way with me.” He winked.

  Not only was he sexy as all get-out, but he was a mind reader, too. “Are you sure you want to stop for pancakes?”

  “That craving has passed. Now all I want is a taste of you.” He tuned the radio to a station playing love songs, and then held her hand on the ride home. Her body hummed with anticipation in a way it never had for another man. Then they turned onto her street, and her gaze narrowed on the car parked in her driveway.

  “Crap. Not tonight,” she said at seeing her brother sitting on her porch steps.

  Chapter Nine

  “Who’s that?” Jack parked his car next to the one in Nichole’s driveway. The man sitting on her steps wasn’t her ex-boyfriend, at least not the one he’d met.

  “My brother.” She let out a weary sigh. “He’s supposed to be in Florida at my parents’.”

  Okay, a brother he could deal with. Before he could get to her side of the car to o
pen her door, she was out and marching toward her brother. Jack caught up with her, and her brother scowled.

  “Who the hell is this, Nic?”

  Jack held out his hand. “Jack Daniels.”

  Ignoring him, the man kept his gaze on Nichole.

  “Jack, this is my brother, Mark, who is supposed to be in Florida right now.”

  “Yeah, well, Lane called.”

  “And of course you came running. What happened to the new job you just started?”

  “Florida’s hot as hell.” He shot Jack a glance. “Besides, the ’rents were all up in my business.”

  “The word is parents. Have some respect for the people who gave you life and still put up with your bullshit,” Nichole said.

  Mark sighed. “Can we not do this with an audience?”

  “Sure. Come back tomorrow and we’ll talk.”

  Jack had noticed the carry-on bag sitting next to the door, meaning her brother intended to stay with Nichole. He didn’t like the man’s attitude with Nichole, so it was difficult to keep his mouth shut.

  “Thought I’d bunk here tonight,” Mark said.

  “I should go.” Jack put his hand on Nichole’s back. Her muscles were tense, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave her, but he needed to before he said something to her brother. She might be unhappy with Mark at the moment, but Jack doubted she wanted him inserting himself in the middle of whatever was going on between them.

  She glared at her brother before turning a soft smile on him. “Probably for the best. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “You going to be okay?” he asked when they reached his door.

  “Yeah. My brother’s a jerk, but he’s harmless.”

  Jack wasn’t so sure about that. “Call me later, just so I know you’re okay.”

  “I will.” She pressed her mouth to his. When she finished assaulting him—and God knew, he was more than fine with that—she lifted her gaze to his. “I had plans for you tonight, Mr. Daniels.”

  He grinned. “I know. Something involving ropes, and believe me, I was all for whatever your plans were.” He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Don’t forget to call me later.”