Easy Ride

The thought slammed into her unexpectedly. No way should she be jealous. Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about how a total stranger could feel so good and so right. Even if it was only so “right now.”

The phone rang, yanking her out of her messed-up thoughts.

“Montgomery here,” she answered.

“I got a lead on a stray Dumpster diver near Hobby Airport. Can you help?”

“Good morning, Reese. Of course I’ll help, but calling me with this information is only going to distract me from work until I can get away.”

“All part of my evil plan. Can you get away now?”

Kirby weighed the situation. In times like these, she wished she was unemployed and independently wealthy, like her best friend, Reese, and could scour the city for animals in need of rescuing. Talk about the ultimate dream job.

“I might be able to arrange something. Have you already lined up a foster?” Kirby asked.

“No. But don’t worry. I’ll foster until I can find someone.”

Kirby exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The easy part was catching an animal. The harder part was placing him or her in a loving home. And the absolute worst part was saying goodbye, once a home was found. That was how she’d recently ended up with a rescue cat. At her house, foster home had turned into forever home.

“How far away?

“South of Broadway, living behind the Dumpsters at some rather seedy apartments. I tried to execute a solo rescue earlier this morning, but I couldn’t get close.”

“No chance the owner lives in the complex?”

“If that’s the case, the puppy needs rescuing more than ever. Very thin and dirty.”

“I’ll take an early lunch. Pick me up at ten thirty,” Kirby said. She wasn’t going to get any further on The Deep story this afternoon. Might as well be distracted for a worthy cause.

“Great. I’ll wait up front.”

Kirby replaced the receiver and referred back to the website. As she clicked through the photos, someone approached from behind.

She recognized the fumes.

“Which one is yours?” Seth asked. “Please tell me it’s Gentleman John. Ha! Gotta love it.”

Seth launched into his obnoxious laugh, which always had a delayed effect. Like a time bomb with a long fuse.

Today, it was more like a stink bomb.

As soon as Kirby clicked on Easy Ride and his buff upper body filled the screen, the laughing ceased.

Seth leaned in closer.

Kirby held her breath.

“What’s his name?” he asked.

“They don’t give out names.”

“Find out. Or I will.”

Strange. Something had piqued his curiosity, and it likely wasn’t Easy Ride’s abundance of chiseled muscles.

“You seem awfully interested. Why?” she asked.

“Only trying to help. In fact, the offer still stands to trade stories. The oil-and-gas lead is a sure thing. I’d hate to see you blow your only chance with Bettencourt after you waited so long.”

Even though she doubted Seth’s concern for her professional well-being, he wasn’t simply blowing smoke. Their news director had earned the nickname “one-chance Charlie” for good reason. He gave reporter wannabes who worked at the station a shot to be on the air. A single shot. This was hers.

“Why are you so interested in The Deep?” Seth asked. “Aside from getting to hang out at the beefcake buffet. A story like this will cast your reputation in stone. Goodbye, good girl.”

“Oddly enough, you just answered your own question.”

Seth raised one bushy brow and gave her a nod of approval. He only related to people who got down in the mud. No doubt her willingness to chase this particular lead earned his reluctant respect.

What she didn’t tell him was that this story had become personal long before she’d stepped foot in The Deep. The thought of men taking women’s money for false flattery reminded her too much of her charming crook of an ex-husband, who was more than happy to relieve her of any and all loose change and limited savings, only to end up spending it on his girlfriends. Oh, and then going on to reject his own wife.

She mentally returned to the sofa at The Deep. No evidence of rejection there. No usable information, either. He didn’t even charge her for the kisses.

Certain facts about the club might be difficult to get out of Easy Ride. However, the pleasure promised to be deliciously...easy. So much so, she was finding it hard to focus today.

Goodbye, good girl was right.

* * *

“HEY, FAB. SPOT ME,” Adam said.

Fabian positioned himself, ready to catch the bar in case Adam’s ambitious 320-pound bench press turned out to be a top-story bleeder on the evening news.

“You trying to kill yourself, Ride?”

Adam grimaced at the weight, but damn if Better Days’s newest release wasn’t blaring from every speaker throughout the gym. The angry schmuck within him could bench-press an eighteen-wheeler to the lead singer’s whiny voice. The owner of Six-Pax usually had better taste in music.

He finished a set and Fabian helped with the bar.

“No death wish, but that song makes me want to kill someone.”

Fabian slapped Adam on the back with the appropriate force. The gesture implied friendly support rather than pity.

“Sorry, man. How anyone can work out to that country-rock shit is beyond me. I’ll tell the manager to change the station.”

“Don’t bother. I might as well get used to hearing it. Better Days is having its best days.”

“I thought you were over her,” Fabian said.

Adam considered Fab’s statement for a minute. Truth was, being dumped by Liv honestly didn’t hurt anymore. He couldn’t say the same for the humiliation.

“I wish her the best of luck. She’ll need it. Her new boyfriend has quite the reputation with groupies. I imagine karma will take care of the balance due.”

Adam wandered over to the free weights next. Fabian trailed close behind.

“I still can’t wrap my mind around how she was doing him at the same time she was doing you. And for so long,” Fabian said.

So much for friendly support.

“Gee, Fab, let’s see if the other guys want to sit in on this discussion. I think one of them might not have caught the last part.”

Not that it mattered. Everyone within an earshot already knew the scoop.

Adam grabbed a pair of forty pounders and started banging out some standing curls.

Fabian followed suit, but grabbed some thirties instead. “I bet I know how to cheer you up.”

“How so?”

“Your new girlfriend, Kirby, tried to book tonight. Saw it on the activity feed.”

Adam nearly dropped the weights. It felt as if someone had tickled his goddamn heart with a feather.

“Why do you think I’d be happy?”

“For starters, you’ve never humped a first-timer then played the concerned-boyfriend card.”

“I’ve never humped a client. Period. I shouldn’t even have to say it.”

“First time for everything, my friend. If you didn’t hump her, why did you ask me to refund her money?”

“I like her. She’s attractive. We made out and I enjoyed the hell out of it. What can I say?”

“Just don’t do what the others are doing. Eventually, one of these wounded lovelies is going to turn psycho and give us away, and then we’ll be in some deep shit.”

Adam continued doing reps. All he could think was how he’d love to break a rule or two with Kirby. But it sure as hell wasn’t going to happen at the club.

“Does Lydia know?” Adam asked.

“I suspect our madam chooses not to know. But have no fear. Even if we get busted, you’re clean. Or so you say.”

Although true, it did nothing to tame the uneasy feeling. Last thing he needed was another controversy. Not if he wanted to land the gig in Florida. They needed an elite trainer. He needed a new life. Seemed like the perfect fit. It had been a year since he’d been appreciated for what he did best: train riders and horses at the most prestigious grounds in the greater Houston Area.

Wild Indigo Equestrian Center seemed to be the only potential employer left in the world who either didn’t know about his previous legal problems, or didn’t care. They certainly didn’t need to know his current employment situation, or the newest dilemma with the saddles. Either one of those would knock him out of the running.

He grabbed his gym bag from the floor, shrugged off his sweaty T-shirt and donned a fresh one. Six hours before he had to be back at work. Enough time to make a dent in the informal written deposition he’d promised Bernard.

The real question was, why would his ex-boss levy those charges so long after Adam had left? Why would it even be a case, because there was no way the man could have proof? Proof didn’t exist. None of it made sense.

Adam pulled his cell phone from his bag. One voice message, and from a number he didn’t recognize. Maybe it was Kirby. Maybe she got a flat tire after all.

He held the phone to his ear, and as far away from Fabian as possible.

“This is Methodist Hospital. We’re trying to locate Adam Drake, next of kin for Henry Drake. Please give us a call at...”

The hot ringing in his head made it impossible to hear the number.

Next of kin? Isn’t that the kind of thing people said when someone was deceased, or on their death bed? Besides, Adam was the man’s only kin.

A sudden sheen of cold sweat traversed the length of his neck and back. He swallowed hard in an attempt to jump-start his breathing. Instead of calling the hospital, he sprinted out of Six-Pax, jumped into his Jeep without bothering to buckle the seat belt and tore out of the parking lot.

He had zero intention of driving the speed limit. Didn’t care how many tickets he got along the way.

Time to start breaking some rules.

* * *

KIRBY POSITIONED HERSELF on one side of the Dumpster while Reese tiptoed around to the other.

The air reeked of urine and spoiled milk and miscellaneous unidentifiable odors. She inhaled through her mouth, but pure nastiness coated her throat. The thick, noxious mix made her feel as if she were swallowing toxic sludge. But it was all worth it as soon as the scared puppy peeked around the side. In fact, there was no other place Kirby would rather be.

Except perhaps one other place. On the sofa at The Deep, being massaged and kissed and desired by the most desirable man she’d ever met. And being looked at by those baby blue eyes.

The memory battled for her focus, but dreamy eyes of a different kind were sizing her up.

“Looks like a Maltese-terrier mix,” she said.

The puppy growled as if in disagreement.

“Hard to tell. Baby needs a bath. At least his vocal cords are healthy,” Reese said.

They anchored the edges of a large net at either corner of a fence without managing to spook the puppy, and draped the rest of it over the large metal contraption.

“Area secure,” Kirby said, although she knew all too well the puppy could finagle its way out of the trap easily enough.

Kirby pulled the net over her head, effectively sealing her inside the entrapment zone. She opened the paper sack, reached in and tore off a piece of the hamburger and bun. Then she held it out while Reese snuck underneath from the other side, rescue leash in hand.

The puppy crouched and took a few tentative steps forward, but retracted back to its spot without taking the bait.

Kirby set down the bite and backed away as far as the net would allow.

Reese took slow, easy steps closer. Then they both stood perfectly still. And waited.

It took a few minutes, but the puppy inched close enough to claim the food, then scurried back to the unreachable center behind the Dumpster.

“Smart little guy. Or girl,” Reese said.

“My bets are on girl. Time to take it to the next level.” Kirby placed another bite even farther outside the puppy’s self-defined boundary.

The creature gained a little more confidence, grabbing the bite this time and retreating before Reese could make her move.

“Party time,” Kirby whispered.

Reese moved to the edge of the Dumpster. The puppy would surely see her feet, but would hopefully forget all about it once the feast was laid out.

Kirby set two pieces of the burger on the ground, a couple of feet apart, along with a trail of French fries leading up to her feet as she backed completely against the netting. If the puppy wanted to claim all treats, he or she would inevitably linger.

Sure enough, the puppy took the bait.

Reese slipped the leash around the puppy’s neck while Kirby peeled away the netting.

The puppy railed against the leash but then seemed to finally realize they were there to help and relinquished its struggle on the way to the car.

Once settled in the back seat, the creature proceeded to lick Kirby’s face.

“Ah, more kisses.” She tore off a tiny bite of the burger as a reward.

“Boy or girl?” Reese asked as she started the car and took the first U-turn toward downtown.

Kirby lifted the little one’s wagging tail.

“Girl. I win.”

“You’re amazing. How did you know?”

“Easy. A boy would have taken the bait on the first drop and thought about the consequences later.”

Reese raised a brow and glanced in the rearview mirror. “Are we talking about dogs or men?”

Kirby simply smiled.

“Thank you for doing this. I know you’re really busy at work,” Reese said.

“Happy to do it.”

The puppy curled up beside Kirby and fell fast asleep as they rode, in relative silence, back to the station.

“Speaking of work and kisses, how did your date go last night?” Reese asked.

Kirby figured the question had been percolating in her friend’s brain.

“Okay. He’s amazing-looking, but otherwise I have no story to tell.” She privately smiled at her understatement, and Reese totally witnessed the momentary slip.

“Keep your eyes on the road, please,” Kirby admonished. “We don’t want to kill the puppy after we went to so much trouble to rescue her.”

“Okay. But dish, please.”

“There’s nothing to dish. Seriously, I’m not planning on sleeping with the guy. I just need to get him to talk.”

“Right. No telling where those guys have been.”

“Probably no more places than my ex had been,” Kirby said.

“Oh. Sorry, I forgot. Hey, know what? I think you should totally go for it with this guy. Get the story, and have a few orgasms.”

“What? No.” But even as Kirby said it, her body begged to differ.

“Do it, Kirby. You deserve to have some fun. Just make him wear protection.”

Reese eased to a stop in front of the station.

“I won’t let it go that far,” Kirby said as she exited the back seat, much to the disappointment of the puppy.

Reese’s smirk said it all. Kirby hadn’t been the least bit convincing.

Maybe because she didn’t feel the least bit convinced. Mostly, what she felt was a deep stirring that whipped into a frenzy at the thought of him. It was as if he’d turned her on last night and there wasn’t an off switch.

Between the high of rescuing the puppy and the images of Easy Ride that her mind feasted on, getting anything accomplished at work wouldn’t be easy.

Once back at her desk, a different reality set in. She hadn’t logged out of the private portal, and someone had obviously been poking around the site. Furthermore, she knew exactly who that someone was. But there was no way she’d let Seth hijack her assignment.

True, she had a chink in her armor, which could make it more challenging to be objective. Yet, she wanted to feel what this man had made her feel. She deserved to feel something. All the self-talk in the world kept leading her back to the same place, and back into the arms of the irresistible unknown.

Mix business with pleasure...live in the moment.

The only problem was, she hadn’t been prepared for...this. Out-of-control desire. As appealing as it sounded to shed her good-girl image, she hadn’t set out to sleep with her source. Too risky. Professionally and personally.

In fact, she’d be satisfied with a repeat of last night’s “performance.”

Yeah. Right.

At least she was prepared to take Reese’s advice, should the uncontrollable happen again—make him wear a condom—because she was in too deep to stop now. For the pleasure, and for the story.

Her moment, it seemed, had arrived.

* * *

ADAM PUMPED A generous amount of Purell into his hands and worked it through every pore. The cool gel calmed his sweaty palms, and the clean scent cleared his head for what he was about to face.

He was still reeling from the emotional jolt, as if he’d been riding the most incredible mare and was cold-cocked by a low-hanging branch.

It didn’t help his nervousness to see the name Henry V. Drake on the wall next to his grandfather’s hospital room.

At least his worst fears weren’t realized. Henry hadn’t died. From what little Adam had been told when he’d asked for directions at the nurses’ station, his grandfather took the wrong dosage of one of his many medicines and blacked out on the front lawn. Fortunately, a neighbor called 911 and gave Adam as the primary contact.

He knocked lightly while easing the door fully open.

“Come in, come in!” Henry’s cheery greeting provided some assurance that nothing essential had changed.

The man looked up as Adam approached. A rather large glob of pudding wobbled on the spoon as Henry’s hand shook ever so slightly.

“What the heck are you doing here, son? The hospital folks weren’t supposed to bother you with this.” Henry set down the spoon and shoved the entire tray aside.

Adam perched on the edge of the bed.

“You gave everyone quite a scare, old man.”

“Busybody neighbors. I was resting on the lawn. I wish they’d mind their own business.”

As if to emphasize his point, Henry kicked at the covers, exposing one pale thin leg and one foot sheathed in a fuzzy blue sock, complete with rubber speed bumps on the sole.

“You were resting, facedown, on the lawn?”

“Okay. Maybe I got a little dizzy.”

“You and I are going to put together a written schedule for your medications. Or, better yet, hire a nurse to stop by the house and administer them. I promise I’ll find a pretty one.”

A little life returned to Henry’s pale cheeks.

“I’d rather you find a pretty one for yourself. Nurse or otherwise.”

“I’m working on it.” Adam couldn’t help but smile when he thought about Kirby, which was absolutely insane. But she was insanely beautiful. And seemingly sweet. She sure as hell smelled sweet, and tasted even sweeter.

Henry eyed him curiously. “You’ve met someone.”

“I’m paging the doctor. You’re delusional.”

“I raised you. I know when you’ve got a crush.”

Crush? It hadn’t even occurred to Adam to describe it that way.

As much as he’d like to get to know Kirby better, his plans didn’t include a relationship. In fact, that was the last complication he needed, now that his professional life was inching closer to full resurrection. But, hey, his grandfather was happy. Might as well use it to his advantage.

“Okay. You got me. I’ll spill the details after you’re back home. And only if you let me hire a nurse.”

Henry kicked off the remainder of the covers, exposing both legs and damn near everything remotely attached.

Adam arranged Henry’s gown to fully cover the man’s privates.

“They’re keeping me overnight. They want to run some more blasted tests. You’ll have to at least feed me a crumb.”

A nurse walked in. The doctor followed on her heels.

“What’s the verdict?” Adam asked.

“Terrible news. I’m afraid I can’t let you run the Houston Marathon this year, Mr. Drake,” the doctor said, directing his answer to Henry.

“Well, that is disappointing. I was so sure it was mine to win.”

“I don’t doubt it for a minute.” The doctor turned his attention to Adam. “It could have been much worse. He could have fallen on cement, rather than grass.”

“Hey! I’m in the room! I can hear you,” Henry interjected. Obviously, he wasn’t thrilled about being referred to in the third person. “I was taking a nap. Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

“Do you think he’ll be released tomorrow?” Adam asked.

“We’ll have to see.” The doctor reached down and patted Henry’s arm. “I’ll give your grandson a call if anything changes.”

“I’ll spend the night here,” Adam said.

The doctor nodded and left the room.

“You’re going home, and that’s that. There’s something I need you to do,” Henry said.

“I know. But I don’t think we should list our homes until I get a solid offer. It’s between me and one other guy, but they pretty much guaranteed I’m in the lead.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. Destin, Florida, is our destiny! I’ve already cut the tags off my new swimming trunks, that’s how confident I am. Do whatever you think is best as far as putting the houses up for sale.”

Adam studied this frail man, who also happened to be the strongest person he knew. A man who spent what should have been his golden years of retirement raising Adam in Houston, putting up with an endless amount of bullshit. Florida was Adam’s chance to make it up to the man who had sacrificed so much. Didn’t get much better than white sand beaches and emerald-tinted waters.

“So, what is it you need me to do?” Adam asked.

“I want you to promise you’ll make me a great-grandfather before I die. I always wanted the word great in front of my name.”

“How do you know you don’t already have great-grandkids running around somewhere?”

Even joking about such a thing made Adam’s conscience quiver. Condoms were nonnegotiable until a committed relationship was established. He could be certain of his fatherhood status, or lack thereof, at this point.

“At least promise me you’ll find a nice girl. Liv wasn’t nice. I may not be much, but I’m a flawless judge of character.”

Yet, if Henry really knew what Adam had made of himself—disgraced trainer turned cut-rate escort—it might turn the man’s whole flawless-judge assumption on its ear. Considering he could lose his grandfather at any time, it was more important than ever that he straighten out his own life.

Beginning with his career.

4

KIRBY STAYED IN bed and stared at her open palm, willing her mind to reconstruct the smudge of what used to be Easy Ride’s cell phone number. It had survived the first night and one full day, but last night’s bubble bath proved to be its undoing.

She’d committed the sequence to memory, but now the order of the numbers proved to be a moving target. A mental shell game.

When she couldn’t find any definition within the hopeless blur, she balled her hand into a fist and knocked herself on the forehead. Hard.

Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t write his number down somewhere. She didn’t need to become addicted to a man like him. Which meant she’d need to check her emotions and insecurities at the door, along with her newly reawakened carnal desire.

Once halfheartedly upright, she finagled out from under the goose-down comforter, swung her legs over the side of the bed and eased into her fuzzy leopard-print slippers. Onward to the kitchen, where the Keurig sat ready and waiting for its morning abuse.

Designer caffeine. Yet another addiction she couldn’t afford. Today could easily be a four-mug day.

She sensed Lady’s inquisitive green feline eyes watching her every move from the top of the refrigerator. Kirby retrieved a tin of moist cat food from the pantry. Lady’s warm purr couldn’t compete with a modified version of the song playing in Kirby’s head.

Baby Blue...

She wished she could get another look at those blue eyes this morning. Blue skies were out there, as well, but she couldn’t see them, either. Nothing but overcast skies.