Chapter Eleven
Cade
I pick up a picture frame from Sarah’s desk. The encased photo is one of Tyrone and Sarah sitting on Stella’s front porch with goofy grins pasted on their faces. I set it back down and glance over at the two women.
Sam is resting at Lola’s feet with his head on her shoe. He’d run back and forth, whining when we arrived in the waiting room. His excitement at smelling the other animals had eased his nervousness over the gunshot. I’m not pleased about any of this. Sam is too big for her and will only get bigger. Not to mention, he appears to have trauma issues.
Takes one to know one, buddy. I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. If she wants the damn dog, she’ll get the damned dog. All I can do is pray she doesn’t get hurt.
Lola and Sarah are discussing the procedure for adoption. I’ve caught bits and pieces of their conversation as they bounce information back and forth. Babies and animals. The great equalizers.
When we’d first arrived, Lola had prattled on about how it was my idea to get Sam vaccinated and tested, to which Sarah sang my praises in between sharing a couple of embarrassing stories of our past. Thankfully, she left out the ones of how we met and my brief foray into self-pity upon my return from the military.
I’m not sure how Lola’s weaving her way into my inner circle. Letting people get close is not my thing. I pace in front of the line of licenses posted on the wall.
My back aches from tension. I should have taken her to a different shelter or ignored the whole dog thing altogether. She’s capable of taking an animal to the vet on her own. She doesn’t need a wounded anti-hero to ride in on his stallion to ruin the day.
Lola bends down and pats Sam on the head. A strand of her hair flutters over her cheek, and my heart thuds in my chest. Damn it. She takes my breath away. It’s not only her beauty. It’s the entire package. Physically, there’s no denying she makes parts of my body hum that I thought were dead and buried–along with my team.
But that’s not it. She’s getting to me, and I can’t afford that. Get your head out of the clouds.
Is she with Trenton or not? I’ve been too afraid of the answer to ask. Fuck. The only way she’d be interested in you is if she thinks you’re a stray that needs fixing. Sadly, that’s not too far off the mark. Damn it. I’m not broken. I don’t need to be fixed, and I don’t need or want a woman.
I groan under my breath. Sam’s ear lifts, and he looks in my direction. What was I thinking when I asked her if she was jealous? Of course, she isn’t. I grew up fending for myself while Trenton grew up being waited on.
“We get a lot of homeless animals during the fall.”
“Why is that?”
Sarah walks past me to sit behind her desk. She motions for me to take a seat beside Lola. “People drop off the puppies they had in the spring. They keep getting bigger, so they bring them to a shelter. Or else, they drive a few miles away from home and leave them to care for themselves. Then, either the dog catchers or people like you find the animals and bring them in.”
“That’s so sad.” She gazes distressingly at Sam. “How can you afford to keep them all?”
“We survive on donations for food, toys, that type of stuff, and people like me,” Sarah points to herself, “volunteer their time. I have a paying veterinary service, but when I can, I come here to help out.”
“That’s so nice of you. I’m glad people are willing to go the extra mile for pets like Sam.” Sam looks up at the three of us and barks. She beams and pats him on the head. “Look, he already knows his name.”
I shake my head. No matter what I say, she keeps worming her way in.
“How did you meet Cade?”
I close my eyes. Please be the watered-down version. Or skip the water part in this case. “Sarah, she doesn’t want to hear the boring story of how we met.”
“Boring? I don’t think she’ll find the story boring.”
***
Lola
“That sounds intriguing. Cade said he met you through his friend, Tyrone.” Sarah has long blonde to brunette ombre hair, giving her a slight gypsy appearance. In the photo on her desk is a picture of her with an attractive man. The contrast in their skin tones makes for a striking image.
“Let’s see.” She taps her index finger to her top lip, waggles her eyebrows, and smiles mischievously. “I met Cade while he was wearing nothing but a towel.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to tell her this story.” Cade’s face turns a bright shade of crimson, reminding me of hot pepper. Interesting. He’s embarrassed. This must be good.
“What do I get if I don’t?”
I shift to the edge of my seat. “Spill it.” Cade wrapped in a towel. I’ve got to hear this.
“We met while I was still in college. I’d only been dating Tyrone for a few weeks, and we’d been quiet about our relationship. Meeting in the library and other out of the way places, so I hadn’t met any of his roommates or frien–”
“He was afraid one of his buddies would steal his girl. He was still scrawny as a beanpole.”
My gaze shifts to the photo. That man was a beanpole? Obviously, he’d hit a growth spurt sometime before the picture was taken. He isn’t as ripped as Cade, but he has broad shoulders and bulging biceps.
Sarah chuckles. “You might be right. If I hadn’t already been in love with Tyrone, I might have been tempted.” She twists in her seat to face my direction as a ripple of jealousy slices through me.
Stop. Don’t go there. You’re friends. Hell, we aren’t even friends. We’re co-workers.
“Now, back to my story before I was so rudely interrupted. Tyrone’s bedroom was upstairs, and everyone had gone to a frat party the night before. They weren’t supposed to be back until early afternoon. So, imagine my surprise when I traipsed into the bathroom to use the facilities to find a dripping wet, naked man with what I have to call a hand towel held in front of his junk.”
My eyes fly to Cade’s, and his gaze holds mine for several seconds while my imagination has no problems envisioning him with water trickling down his rock-hard abs, headed for his trim waist and chiseled hips. My fingers twitch. Down to his rock-hard cock. Holy hell. My nipples ache as my clit convulses. Breathe. Remember to breathe. I finally tear my attention away from him before I spontaneously combust.
“After she ogled me for a couple of minutes, she screamed, slammed the door in my face, and ran out of the room. I didn’t see her again until my next leave.”
“Hey, you scared me, and it wasn’t a couple of minutes. It was a few seconds at most.” She purses her lips together. “I was used to living at home.” She arches her eyebrows. “Where people shut and lock the doors before doing their business.”
“It was four o’clock in the morning. No one else should have been up. But I did learn my lesson. Never shower with an open door. You never know who might walk in on you.”
My mind wanders as they continue to banter. One question had been answered. He’d been on leave, which means he’d been in the military. Well, two questions. He’s obviously not the cold, calculated person I believed he was when we first met. He’s got amazing friends who care about him a great deal. That’s not the person he tries to pretend to be.
Not that it matters. He’s not interested in a relationship with you, so stop fantasizing about him in the shower or anywhere else.