Flirting with Love (3 page)

Down, girl.

She set her phone on the passenger seat and turned to thank him again. His face was so close she could see every whisker on his square jaw and three sweet lines in his lower lip that she wanted to run her finger over. He smiled, and her mind turned to mush again.

Jesus, what am I? A dog in heat?
These types of thoughts surprised her. She wasn’t looking for sex, and even if she had been actively searching for a man, she wanted a relationship, not just sex. Anyone could have sex, but it took two people who were really in love to have a meaningful, lasting relationship, and that’s what she dreamed of.

“Ross,” Kelsey called from the porch of the clinic. “Luke’s on the phone for you.”

Ross held Elisabeth’s gaze for a minute longer. “Welcome to Trusty, Elisabeth. I’ll swing by when I’m free.”

It took her a minute to breathe—and to remember why he was stopping by.
To check out the piglets
. She needed to get a grip. Maybe he could give her a shot of
Ross repellant
, because she had a life to build and a business to maintain, and a man like Ross would probably chew her up and spit her out.

But, oh, would the chewing up be delicious.

IT WASN’T THE hungry piglet Ross was thinking about as he drove forty minutes from Denton back to Trusty. It was the beautiful, befuddled blonde who brought that little piggy in to see him who had his entire body revved up ever since. Ross wasn’t often taken by a woman’s looks. He was more often taken by a woman’s personality, but Elisabeth had a wholesome appearance that had definitely struck a chord.

Storm, a six-month-old black Lab and his weekend charge from the Denton Prison Pup Partners program, yawned on the seat beside him. Ross had been Storm’s weekend foster handler since the dog first entered the program as an eight-week-old puppy. Ross picked him up on Friday evenings and kept him until late Sunday, when he returned to the Prison Pup program in Denton for the week. Storm was as bonded to Ranger, Sarge, and Knight as he was to Ross. Ross tousled his head at the same time that his stomach growled. Storm cocked his head to the side and wrinkled his brow. By seven thirty Friday night, Ross needed nourishment as badly as that little piglet had.

“Gotta eat sometime. Might as well get you some socialization while I’m at it.”

Ross parked in front of Trusty Diner and leashed Storm. As a vital part of the service-dog training program, the dogs in training went to weekend puppy raisers, or foster homes, on the weekends. During that time, they went everywhere the foster families did, exposing the dogs to people, traffic, stores, and other noises and elements that weren’t available at the prison.

The bell rang above the door as Ross and Storm entered the diner.

“Two of my favorite boys,” Margie called from behind the counter.

“Settle,” Ross said to Storm, in preparation for the flurry of activity that was Margie Holmes. She hurried over in her pink waitress uniform and touched Ross’s cheek. Margie had been a waitress at Trusty Diner forever, and she knew the rules about not petting service dogs, but when it came to people, Margie knew no boundaries. She hugged, petted, and squeezed as she wished.

“You know I love you, Ross, but it kills me not to be able to love up that baby of yours.”

“I know it does, and thank you. I’ve already got three boys who didn’t make the cut. I’d like to see Storm go to a good home.” That was only partially true. Ross loved the six-month-old black Lab as much as he loved his own pups, but truth be told, his bed was getting a little small for any more bodies. Well, other than a warm womanly one, which brought his mind back to Elisabeth. He hadn’t dated a woman in town in years. Knowing about gossip was one thing, but being the center of it was a whole other ballgame.

Margie patted her eighties feathered hair. “Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. You here for dinner, hon?”

“Yes, and I’m starved.” Ross climbed into a booth. “Go in,” he instructed Storm. Storm crawled under the table and lay down. “Good boy.”

Margie brought him a tall glass of ice water and a menu. “If you could train men like that, you’d make a fortune.”

“You do realize I’m a man, right?” He smiled up at the woman who was as much a hallmark of Trusty as the crisp mountain air.

“Sugar, that’s something no red-blooded woman could miss.” She winked at him and then went to help another customer.

Forty minutes later Ross stood before the cash register sated and happy, with a belly full of meat loaf and mashed potatoes and Destination Elisabeth on his mind.

“Heard you had a pretty visitor today,” Margie said as she rang him up.

Ross handed her his credit card. “How did you know Alice Shalmer came in to see me?”

“Playing coy, are we?” As Margie ran his credit card through the machine, her eyes never left his. “You know I read right through that coy stuff.” She leaned in close and whispered, “She’s mighty pretty, but she’s an LA girl, Ross. Trouble with a capital
T
. Probably only here to sell Cora’s place, take the money from Cora’s hard work, and run.”

“Hm.” Ross slipped his card into his wallet and tried not to let Margie’s judgment cloud his own. Margie had always been protective of Ross and his siblings. He figured it was because their father left them when Ross was only five, but he’d since learned that Margie was protective of most of the respected residents of Trusty. Even those she gossiped about could win her allegiance if they set their stories straight.

“Have a nice evening, Margie. Dinner was delicious, as always.” He looked down at Storm, standing patiently by his side. “Let’s go.”

Ten minutes later Ross pulled down the driveway that led to Cora’s farmette.
Elisabeth’s farmette
. Cora had been widowed at the age of forty-five, when her husband died of a heart attack. They didn’t have any children, and the town had rallied around her for the next twenty years. When Ross purchased the adjacent property and built his veterinary clinic and home, he too came to her aid, helping her with her animals and small repairs around the farm, checking on her during storms, and making sure she had groceries in the winter. She’d eventually hired a farmhand, and after she died, the farmhand had continued caring for the animals. Ross hadn’t realized her niece had moved in and taken over.

He parked behind Elisabeth’s Subaru Outback. Not exactly an uptight LA girl’s car. He stepped from his truck with his medical bag in hand.

“Let’s go,” he said to Storm.

Storm came to his side as Ross surveyed the property. His heart sank at the sight of Cora’s old Trusty Pies delivery van. She hadn’t used it in years, but it brought back memories of Ross and his brothers hanging out in town, waving as she drove by on her way to the diner or some other destination. If they caught her at one of her stops, she’d cut them each a slice and tell them not to tell anyone else or she’d have no pie left. Now the van was rusted all the way through above the front tire, the two rear tires were flat, and the grass around the van was waist high. He swallowed the sadness of losing his neighbor and turned in the direction of the barn and the chicken coop. Just beyond the barn was the pasture where Cora’s cow, Dolly, and two goats, Chip and Dale, grazed. Ross smiled at their names. Cora always did have a good sense of humor.

He crossed the lawn to the two-story farmhouse. The steps creaked as he ascended them to the wide front porch. He heard music coming from beyond the screen door. Ross peered into the wide hallway, straight through the back screen door, where he caught a glimpse of something black that looked suspiciously like part of a woman’s ass and leg, but his vision was obscured by the back door, propped halfway open. He stepped off the porch and walked around to the back of the house.

The music wasn’t coming from inside; it was coming from the backyard. He rounded the side of the house and stopped at the sight of Elisabeth wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a skintight tank top. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her body was contorted into some kind of knot with her incredibly hot ass up in the air.
Christ, you are sexy
. Ross’s mind immediately went to her long legs wrapped around him, over his shoulders, and—she unknotted herself and turned, catching him leering at her.

“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed.

Ross couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t staring, so he did the only thing he was capable of. He smiled. “Hey.”

“Ross. Dr. Braden. I didn’t see you standing there.” She rose, and Ross wanted to kiss the feet of whoever had developed yoga pants and tank tops. Elisabeth looked like a young Christie Brinkley. She definitely had the California-girl image, and Ross couldn’t find a damn thing wrong with that. She grabbed a towel and patted her glistening face, neck, and chest.

Damn.
He’d love to be that towel.

“Ross, please,” he finally managed.

“Ross,” she repeated. “And who’s your adorable friend?”

Ross glanced at Storm. “Free dog,” he said to the pup and unleashed him. The command let Storm know he was off duty and free to play.

“This is Storm. He’s a service dog in training.”

She knelt to pet the puppy. “He’s beautiful. Six months?”

“Yeah, about that.” Ross was about to ask how she knew so quickly, but then he remembered she’d owned some kind of crazy pet bakery and spa. He couldn’t just stand there ogling her, so he made an attempt at small talk. “Yoga?”

“Yeah. It’s the only thing that centers me, and you know, new place, starting over. I definitely need centering.” She looked down at her clothes. “Please excuse the sweat.”

Ross nodded, unsure what else to say, because he was pretty sure,
Babe, I’ll center you, and you can put that sweaty body against mine anytime
, wouldn’t go over very well. Besides, getting involved with a neighbor was a bad idea. Even a neighbor who looked like she was put on this earth to fulfill his every fantasy.

“Are the pigs in the barn?” He shoved his thumb in the direction of the barn.

“Yeah. I’ll go with you.”

She fell into step beside him and Storm, and, he noticed, she pet his pup the entire way.

“So, you’re training a service dog?” She pulled the elastic from her ponytail and shook her hair free, sending the scent of fruity shampoo into the air.

His new favorite scent.

“I work with the prisoners in Denton and teach them how to train the dogs, and on weekends the dogs go to foster homes to get acclimated with the sights and sounds of the real world.” He pulled the barn door open. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, slanting the last of its light across the pasture.

“I’ll get the lights.”

Ross watched her walk away, then forced himself to tear his eyes away and turn his attention to the piglets. He dated plenty of women, but he’d given up thoughts of settling down until recently. His brother Luke was engaged to Daisy Honey, who had grown up in Trusty, and was now the only family-practice doctor in town, and his younger brother Wes was living with Callie Barnes, a transplant from Denver who had recently taken over Alice’s position as head librarian. Both of his brothers had been scoundrels when it came to women. His oldest brother, Pierce, had treated women as if they were expendable, and even he had recently fallen in love. His fiancée, Rebecca Rivera, was from Reno. A far cry from Trusty, but she’d quickly become everything to Pierce.

Ross wasn’t a scoundrel. If anything, he was a careful dater. He’d always had plenty of women to choose from, but Ross liked smart women with a strong sense of self, and he preferred natural beauty to manufactured. He had yet to find a woman who suited him long term. Once women found out that he had a trust fund, they were all about the money. But lately, after seeing how happy his brothers were with their newfound loves, he wasn’t giving up hope. Ross was more like his sister, Emily, than his last remaining bachelor brother, Jake, a stuntman in LA who Ross couldn’t imagine ever settling down. Ross believed in love, no matter how much he scoffed at it to his brothers. A guy had to keep his image up. He’d even like a family. A big one, and he wasn’t blind to the fact that he was thirty-five—and only getting older.

The lights illuminated the barn, bringing Ross’s mind back to the issue at hand.
Piglets
. The mother pig was on her side with the piglets lying nearby. She stood as soon as he stepped into the pen.

“Careful. Sadie gets a little testy. She doesn’t like anyone near her babies.”

He nodded, eyes on Sadie, and crouched down low. “Hey there, Sadie. I just want to check out your babies.” The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. He’d been around enough sows to know she could charge at any second.

 “This is when I usually get out of there,” Elisabeth warned.

He held a hand up in her direction and nodded. “Sweet Sadie, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt your babies.” Ross eyed Storm. “Settle,” he instructed, and Storm sat obediently. Ross brought his attention back to Sadie, but spoke to Elisabeth.

“Pigs can’t see up very well, so getting down to eye level helps. Humming, as I mentioned earlier, also helps.” He noticed she had a hand on Storm again.
Lucky dog.

Sadie grunted and Ross hummed, first one tune, then another, until he found the one that calmed her. Eventually, she came to his side, and he continued sweet-talking her.

“I’m just going to make sure your babies are okay.” After a few minutes of bonding, Sadie allowed him to check out the piglets. When he was assured that they were well, he thanked Sadie and stepped from the pen.

“I think they’re in good shape. Just keep an eye on Kennedy.”

“I will. Thank you, and I’m so sorry about your pants. You’re covered in mud.”

She touched his arm as she had done in the clinic, and Ross wondered if she did that with all men. The thought made his stomach clench. He decided not to think about Elisabeth and other guys.

“That’s why they make washing machines.” They turned off the lights and walked out of the barn. The sounds of crickets filled the air as darkness settled in around them.

“I love the sounds of night here,” she said as they walked back toward the house.