Font Size:  

“Pretty sure I’ve only been getting hard for you since”—he drops his head—“since I knew what it actually meant when you got hard.” Again, he leaves me speechless. My heart gives a flutter. “You’re even sexier when you blush. Anyone ever tell you that? Wait, do not answer that question. The new police chief can’t be going around committing murder.” I choose to ignore half of what he says. He ignored my letters, so it’s fair. He doesn’t get to decide that I’m suddenly not invisible to him.

“So you’re taking the job?”

“Maybe.”

“Why maybe?” I shouldn’t be curious, but I am.

He is a good fit for it. He’s trained and knows everyone in town. He was born and raised here. It was him and Vincent that had a huge part in getting the mayor and the old police chief out of town. They’d been here a few days and locked in on those two assholes and bam. They’re now gone.

“Like I said. The new chief of police can’t be assaulting people.” I shake my head.

“Are you serious right now? After all these years, you think you can suddenly stake a claim to me?”

“Who said I never staked a claim to you years ago?” I narrow my eyes up at him.

“What does that mean?” He shrugs at my question. “You've been keeping tabs on me?” Another shrug. “What did you mean when you said if you hadn’t left me alone, you didn’t think I’d like that either?”

His face softens, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “You deserve so much more than what I have to give you.”

“Frank—”

“Or what I want to do to you,” he adds, cutting me off. “So many things I’ve thought of doing to you.” He trails his finger up my jaw and then down my neck. “One afternoon I was out on the Fricks’ ranch and they were teaching me how to tie rope to steer the cattle. All I kept thinking about was what it would be like to tie you up.”

“Biscuit.” All the air leaves my lungs. Mr. Hardly Says Two Words is now saying a million, and not one of them had I seen coming.

“I knew I had to get away from you for your own good. Thought you would be better off with some, some…” He trails off, unable to supply his own words.

“Like a veterinarian?”

“Why veterinarian?”

“Okay, fireman?” I try another.

“You said veterinarian first.”

“It popped into my head. I thought you were trying to name a profession or like a 9-5, white picket fence or something.”

“I can build a picket fence,” he says defensively. We’ve really gotten off track here, and my head is spinning more than it was when he had me tossed over his shoulder.

“I’m sure you could, Frank.” I pat his chest. Yep, as hard as the rest of him. “I need to get home and let Teddy out.”

“You called me Biscuit.”

“It was a slip.”

“To you I’m Biscuit.” I swear he almost sounds like he’s pouting.

“I need to get home,” I say again.

“To let your dog out.” I don’t think he believes me. I don't need to get home and let him out, but it’s an excuse, nonetheless. Being this close to Frank has all the walls I’ve been building since I slapped him coming back down. I need to rebuild.

“Yeah, if you read my letters you’d know—”

“You got him two years ago,” he finishes. So he had read them. He just hadn’t responded. “Isn’t there a new vet in town? Teddy go there?” Thankfully, my phone starts to beep, so I don’t have to answer him. I’ve never been happier for my sensor to go off to alert me that my blood sugar is low. That might be part of the lightheadedness I felt too.

“I’ve got to take this and get home.” I push off his chest but get nowhere. “Biscuit. I really need to take this.” He relents. I think because I called him Biscuit.

“I’ll let you go for now,” he says, releasing his hold on me. I hurry over toward my car. “But this is far from over, sugar.”

I don’t know what’s come over Biscuit. He's different. Did the Navy change him? Or maybe he’s always been good at hiding some parts of himself. Either way, the man clearly has a new mission.

Me.

CHAPTER 5

FRANK

The vet is a guy. I knew it from the minute the word came out of her mouth. She’s interested in him, too, or she wouldn’t have brought him up.

“Why are we sitting outside a pet clinic?” Vincent asks, his mouth full of sandwich. “We don’t even have a pet.”

Because I thought I should at least know the name of the man I intend to murder for trying to steal Melody while I was away serving the country. “Don’t talk about my sister.”

“I didn’t say a thing about her.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like