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CHAPTER ONE
Crappy coffee beats no coffee every morning.
If I don’t stop at the post office, I can still make it to the gym on time. It would be nice if I could count on my younger brother, Jake, to open Strike Back on Monday mornings, but let’s be honest, he’s most likely running later than I am.
I push open the coffee shop door into the thick August humidity. It’s not even nine a.m. and the freshly-paved village road in front of me is already shimmering with heat.
A yellow and black butterfly flutters in front of my face for a second before flying away. A brief reminder of why I’m rushing to work. Of what’s most important to me in this world.
I’m half-way to the curb where my Jeep’s parked when a tiny figure catches my eye.
A hooded sweatshirt covers her face, but something familiar about her body keeps my attention riveted on the woman jogging toward me. Tight leggings, curvy legs, wide hips, small stature.
You don’t have time for this. Stop being a creeper.
Even though I consider myself a dog person, the big white pit bull jogging at her side makes me think twice about approaching the woman. I open my door and set my coffee in the console cup holder. Before climbing in, I take one last glance at the jogger.
Several things happen at once. A squirrel darts into the road. The pit bull’s ears perk up and he lunges after the confused critter, yanking the jogger off the sidewalk. She trips and slams into the pavement, her palms striking asphalt with a hard slap. The dog continues charging after the squirrel, leash trailing behind him.
“Gambler, no!” the woman shouts, her voice choked with pain. She seems unaware of the sports car barreling toward her at exceeding-the-speed-limit miles an hour.
At the last minute the car jerks to the right, zipping by, missing her by inches.
A startled scream tears out of her throat. My gaze darts between the galloping dog and the girl in the road.
Help the girl or grab the dog?
“Please! Get him!” she shouts.
I’m already moving toward her, but I stop and force out a loud, piercing whistle. The dog stops and cocks his head. I repeat the whistle and he breaks into a run, stopping in front of me. His whip-like tail sweeps over the pavement in a quick, eager rhythm.
“Hey, boy. Are you friendly?” Casually, I lean over, pick up his leash, give it a gentle tug, and hurry over to help his owner.
“Are you okay?” I call out.
She tips her head up and the hood slides back, revealing her face.
Her beautiful face flushed from exercise or embarrassment. Big brown doll eyes, and pink, pouting lips.
Aubrey.
I knew I recognized those sexy legs.
Shy, but sweet, Aubrey comes into my gym once a week for the low-cost self-defense class I teach. Cuter than hell, she’s too young for me, not that it matters.
My life consists of a number of rules. At the top of my list: don’t date clients. Don’t date at all, if I’m being honest.
“Sullivan?” Her cheeks turn even redder.
I offer my hand to help her up and she winces.
Dropping my gaze, I understand why. The fall ripped a huge hole in her tight, black leggings at the left knee. Blood and dirt ooze from multiple scrapes and the skin is already turning shades of red and purple.
She hisses in a pained breath and her eyes water.
“It’s okay, Aubrey.” I wrap an arm around her waist and encourage her to lean on me. “I’ve got you.”
“Ooo…it stings so bad.”
“Do you want me to take you to the emergency room?”
“No.” She glances down at the wriggling mass of muscles and fur. “Thank you for catching him. I’m dog-walking and apparently I’m not cut out for it.”
There’s a note of shame in her tone I don’t like. “He’s a strong boy. He’d be a handful for anyone,” I say, tugging the leash.
“No kidding.” Her lips twist in a pained imitation of a smile.
“Come on, my Jeep’s right over there. I’ll give you two a ride home.”
“Thanks.”
I wrap the leash up in my free hand and keep my arm around her waist. She limps the whole way and aware of how inappropriate it would be, I have to fight the urge to pick her up and carry her.
Gambler happily jumps in the back. I hold the passenger side door open for Aubrey and she hesitates. Her eyes shine. Her cheeks turn even redder.
“What’s wrong?”
She drops her head, staring at the sidewalk.
Finally, it occurs to me, she’s not sure how to climb into my lifted Jeep with her torn-up knee. “I’m too short,” she whispers.
Short my ass. She’s perfect.
“Here.” I show her the oh-shit bar in the right corner. Before thinking it through, I fit my hands around her waist and boost her up.
A squeal erupts out of her. “You can’t!”
“Can’t what?”
“Lift me.”
“I just did.” I settle my hand on her leg to stop her from turning in the seat. “Wait.”
Her big, brown, questioning eyes meet mine.
“Your knee.” I reach past her and snag a bottle of water out of the middle console. “We need to clean it up.”
“I’ll be fine,” she protests.
“You went down pretty hard. I don’t want it to get infected.” I brush her hand aside and survey the damage. Blood and dirt trail down her leg, seeping into the ragged material of her ruined pants. “This is bad,” I mutter, squirting water over the non-shredded parts of her leg first.
I grab a wad of clean napkins out of the glove compartment and dab at a few spots. Once I wash some of the blood away, I note the bits of gravel and dirt embedded in her flesh. Her injury is more than I can treat on the side of the road with a bottle of water and some cheap, paper napkins.
“How far is your place?” I ask, meeting her watery eyes.
She points down the road. “Not far.”
“Buckle up.” I nudge her into the seat and pull the seatbelt around her. She shakes her head, but buckles in while I close the door.
When I climb in on the other side, a warm wet tongue lashes the side of my face. I reach back and pat Gambler’s head. “Thanks for the tongue-bath, fella.”
“He seems to like you. You must remind him of Tyler.”
Who the hell is Tyler?
Yeah, here I am with my rigid rule about not dating clients, poor girl’s bleeding and in pain, and I’m itching with jealousy the second another man’s name comes out of her sinful mouth.
Good job, jerk.
“Is that your boyfriend?” I ask striving for a neutral tone.
Her soft laughter reassures me before she even says a word. “No. He’s my neighbor. He needed a dog-sitter, and I needed the money.”
“Where’s your house?”
She points up ahead. “Third right.”
I recognize the area. Cheap apartments contained in three square brick buildings three stories each. I follow the road around to the parking lot located in the back.
“The last one,” she directs.
I pull into a spot in front of her building and open my door.
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“What floor do you live on?” There’s no chance in hell I’m letting her limp her way inside all by herself. I’m still not convinced she doesn’t need to go to the hospital.
“The second.”
“How are you planning to get the two of you upstairs?”
I don’t wait for an answer. Jogging around the Jeep, I open her door and help her out. “It’s getting hot,” she mutters, slipping off her sweatshirt and tying it around her waist.
Fuck me.
Hot’s an understatement. The long, loose T-shirt she’s wearing has no business being that sexy. The round neckline hints at a tight-fitting sports bra underneath and shows off a lot of flu
shed skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat, nudging the dirtier part of my mind into wondering if that’s what she’d look like after sex.
“Sully? The dog?” Her soft voice draws me away from my filthy fantasies.
“Sure. Yeah.”
I open the back and Gambler falls into my arms, body wiggling, tail wagging, tongue licking. “You’re just one big ball of energy aren’t ya, boy?” I set him down and rub his head.
Aubrey moves to take the leash and I stop her. “I’ve got him. Go ahead.”
She doesn’t protest, and I stop to dig out a first aid kit before catching up with her.
Every step makes her flinch and the urge to scoop her up comes raging back.
“Here.” She holds her hand out for the leash at the top of the stairs. “I need to let him into Ty’s place.”
How close is she with this guy? Why does she have his apartment key?
Not your concern, jackass.
I wait outside while she takes care of the dog. When she backs out of the apartment and sees me, her eyes widen.
“What are you still doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
A brief smile flickers over her face. “You don’t have to do that.”
As if I’d leave her alone limping and bleeding. We stand there staring at each other for a few seconds.
“Well.” She points to the door in front of us. “That’s me.”
Attraction is a funny thing.
I’ve been attracted to Sully from the moment we first met. He’s never looked at me with anything other than professional interest. Even though our mutual friends Bree and Liam have hinted several times that we’d make a cute couple.
Fate has a terrible sense of humor.
Here, I’m trying to do a nice thing and walk my neighbor’s dog so I can earn extra money.
Instead, I end up falling, barely miss getting run over by some asshole, scraping most of the skin off my knee, and looking like a fool in front of my crush.
Now, he wants to come into my apartment too? Can my morning take more of a sucky wrong turn?
“Uh, sure.”
