Tailspin

TAILSPIN

In this smoldering fan-favorite tale from New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster, lumberyard owner Buck Boswell prides himself on his way with women—but his prickly neighbor Sadie Harte seems immune to his charms. Is she really as aloof as she acts, or can Buck convince her to take a chance on the guy next door?

Praise for New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster

“Foster hits every note (or power chord) of the true alpha male hero…a compelling read from start to finish.”

—Publishers Weekly on Bare It All

“A sexy, believable roller coaster of action and romance.”

—Kirkus Reviews on Run the Risk

“Bestseller Foster…has an amazing ability to capture a man’s emotions and lust with sizzling sex scenes and meld it with a strong woman’s point of view.”

—Publishers Weekly on A Perfect Storm

“Foster rounds out her searing trilogy with a story that tilts toward the sizzling and sexy side of the genre.”

—RT Book Reviews on Savor the Danger

“The fast-paced thriller keeps these well-developed characters moving.… Foster’s series will continue to garner fans with this exciting installment.”

—Publishers Weekly on Trace of Fever

“Steamy, edgy, and taut.”

—Library Journal on When You Dare

“Intense, edgy and hot. Lori Foster delivers everything you’re looking for in a romance.”

—New York Times bestselling author Jayne Ann Krentz on Hard to Handle

Dear Reader,

I’m so excited that Harlequin HQN is reissuing one of my favorite short stories. Readers often tell me that they laugh while reading my books. But when writing them, I’m never sure if the content is as funny as I intend it to be or not.

In Uncovered, I know it’s funny—because I still laugh just thinking about it. Once you read it, you’ll know what I mean—and I’m certain you’ll sympathize with the heroine even while cheering her on.

In Tailspin you’ll meet my little fur baby, Tootsie—renamed Tish for the purposes of the story. She’s my adorable little Chihuahua—now my only doggie, since Brock passed away (you met Brock, aka Butch, in Riley)—and she rules the house with her very tiny paw. All the cats love her, and bow to her demands. When we first got Tootsie, she was exactly like the dog in this story...right down to her fascination with bugs.

An Honorable Man is unrelated to the other stories, but given my love, gratitude and respect for the military, it’s also a favorite.

I very much hope you enjoy the stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

To catch up on all my books, be sure to check my website, www.lorifoster.com!

All my best,

Tailspin

Lori Foster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Dear Reader

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS BARELY SIX O’CLOCK on a cloudy Saturday morning in Chester, Ohio. The sun struggled to shine without much success as Buck Boswell finished brushing his teeth, then splashed his unshaven face with cold water. Saturday mornings were meant for sleeping in, preferably with a soft, warm female. But for the next couple of weekends, that was out.

Butch, the little Chihuahua he’d been roped into babysitting for two weeks, was causing a ruckus. For a four-pound dog, he made a lot of noise.

Butch had already been out to do his business—the reason Buck was up so early on a vacation day—so he should have been curled up on his blankets, back to dreaming blissful doggie dreams. For the two days Buck had minded Butch so far, that’d been his routine: up at dawn, out for his morning constitutional, back to bed.

Unfortunately, Buck couldn’t do the same. Once Butch woke him, getting back to sleep proved impossible. He was starting his vacation by keeping the hours of his grandpa instead of those of a thriving bachelor.

It sucked.

Riley, one of his best friends, had asked Buck to sit the dog so he and his wife, Regina, could take a cruise. But Riley hadn’t mentioned that Butch rose with the roosters, only to nap again afterward.

Owning his own lumberyard and working sixty-hour weeks as a result hadn’t allowed Buck much time to bond with pets. Free time was spent with his friends, his family and a selection of very nice females. Not animals.

But since he was the only bachelor left in their close circle of friends, the duty fell on him. And despite his lack of familiarity with furry creatures, he and Butch got along well enough.

So what had upset Butch enough to cause that mournful sound?

Concerned, Buck dried his face and dropped his towel. Because he slept in the nude, he’d had to pull on underwear when Butch had first awoken him. In the dark, he’d chosen monkey-print boxers given to him as a joke by Ethan’s wife, Rosie. He hadn’t bothered to put anything more on yet, so he cautiously poked his head around the corner to see what had Butch riled.

The dog sat at the French doors at the back of Buck’s apartment, staring out at the shadowy yard.

“Hey, bud, what’s the deal?”

Butch cast him a quick worried look, then went back to staring. Buck strode forward, leaned close for his own peek and narrowed his eyes to see through the hazy morning shadows. A trim figure moved across the high grass.

Sadie Harte.

Figured it had to be a woman who’d get the dog baying like a crazed wolf. Occasionally Sadie had the same effect on Buck. He didn’t understand her. She was unlike other women he knew. And she made him nuts.

Sadie was the most buttoned-down, prudish, spinsterish twenty-something woman he had ever seen. To call her plain would be an understatement. But did that stop Buck from being nice to her? No. He even teased her a little, tried flirting some. He was friendly, cordial.

It got him nowhere.

In fact, despite her cold politeness, he thought she actually disliked him. In the three months that she’d been his neighbor, not once had she invited him to her apartment. And when he’d invited her to join a small get-together with his close friends, she’d refused. She’d chat with him in the yard, or give a passing greeting, but anything remotely indicative of a relationship seemed to scare her off, even one as casual as friendship.

The only time she’d been to his apartment was to ask him not to make so much noise.

It nettled him that he couldn’t get her to warm up to him. Women liked him, damn it. He wasn’t an ogre, he had his own business, his mother had taught him manners and he loved to laugh. Not bad qualities, right?

So, why did Sadie keep him at arm’s length?

Curiosity was getting to him. Not once had he ever seen her with a boyfriend. She never had company, either. No one. Not family, not friends.

But she did take in rescue animals. Pitiful creatures with their tails between their legs, their ears down. They’d cower whenever anyone got near. Sadie was patience personified, tender and careful and caring. Too many times, Buck had stood at his door and watched her with a dog or two in the small backyard. He’d open his window so he could hear her soft voice as she cajoled an animal into trusting her.

Broke his heart, it really did. The worst part of it all was that Sadie didn’t keep the pets. She helped them, and then found them good homes where they could have the love of a family, a big fenced yard, maybe kids to play with.

Today, however, wasn’t the same. Normally when he saw Sadie, she had on her schoolteacher duds, as Buck liked to think of them. Even while working with the animals in the yard, she wore long shapeless skirts, flat shoes, loose blouses better suited to a maiden aunt than a young woman. Far as Buck knew, she didn’t own a pair of jeans. Or shorts. Or, God forbid, a bathing suit.

She always looked prim and standoffish—and it drove him crazy wondering what she’d look like in something more revealing…. That was the way with men. They always wanted what they couldn’t have. He wanted a peek at proper Ms. Sadie Harte.

Today was his day to have his wish come true.

Mesmerized, intrigued and a little amused, Buck leaned against the wall and took in the sight before him. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, Sadie was in the yard, running from his lot to her own and back again.

In a thin nightgown.

Now he knew what she slept in. It wasn’t the nudity he’d imagined many times over, but the long white gown made of thin cotton would do for future fantasies. The gown was innocent, romantic and hinted at the body beneath.

As Sadie dashed past, his gaze tracked her from the top of her head to her dew-wet feet and back up again. Sleepiness got replaced with sharpened awareness. If Sadie dressed like that more often, her social calendar would be full.

Had she just woken, too? Maybe had a nightmare? They’d talked enough for him to know that Sadie was the sensible sort, not a woman prone to theatrics. Given her wardrobe, she was really modest, too. But this morning she hadn’t even donned a housecoat.

At that precise moment, early morning sunbeams burst through the clouds, making Sadie’s gown slightly transparent. Breath caught, Buck took in the sight of the few subtle shadows that hinted at female curves.

The new view was damn interesting. He made note of her narrow waist, her small, high breasts and long thighs. The image of her curled in bed, half-asleep, soft and warm, crowded into his brain.

Butch howled again and scratched at the door, forcing Buck back into the moment.

“Sorry, buddy. I don’t want you running after her. No reason for you both to look wacko.”

Sadie’s light brown, baby-fine hair danced around her head as she whipped this way and that in a crazed fashion. He’d always wanted to see her with her hair down. Because she usually had it twisted up, Buck hadn’t known it was bone straight, shoulder-length, or that it had glints of red and gold when the sunlight hit it just right. Now that he did know, he wondered why she always kept it up. It looked real pretty around her shoulders.

Suddenly her small bare feet slid in the tall, dewy grass, almost landing her on her tush. Her arms did cartwheels in the air. She looked panicked before catching her balance and taking off again.

Damn it.

Buck slid the door open a little so she could hear him, but not wide enough for Butch to get out. “Sadie,” he called, hoping to gain her attention without startling her. “Is something wrong?”

Her head jerked in his direction, her chocolate-brown gaze locked on his, and to Buck’s surprise, she came barreling toward him. Except for her nose, which had turned pink with the morning chill, her face was pale.

“What the—?” Buck braced himself for the unexpected attack.

Screaming, Sadie jerked the door right out of his hand and nearly knocked him over in her haste to get inside. Her wet feet shot out from under her again when she stepped on his tile floor. Buck caught her under the arms before she hit the ground, aware of her slight weight and fragile bones. She was such a delicate woman—

Sadie paid him no mind. Immediately she slammed the door shut again, using enough force to rattle the panes of glass. Panting, nose glued to the glass, she watched the yard as if expecting something momentous.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Buck leaned against the wall and stared down at Sadie. At six-three, he stood taller than a lot of people. He was used to looking down. But Sadie was more petite than most, damn near a foot shorter than him.

And she was in her nightgown. With pretty, sleep-rumpled hair. And small feminine feet, now wet and dirty with grass stains.

He was still ogling her feet when Sadie jumped. “Ohmigod, there it is! There she is!”

Buck looked over her shoulder—and saw another Chihuahua, way fatter than Butch but not much bigger otherwise. The poor thing was soaked from running in the grass. It was also missing some fur. It had a bald forehead with other bare patches on its belly and behind. It was about the ugliest little dog Buck had ever seen, and it charged right up to his door, then put both front paws to the glass.

Sadie screamed. The shocking sound caused Buck to nearly jump out of his underwear. Bewildered, he caught Sadie’s upper arm and turned her toward him.

“What in the world is wrong with you?”

“Cicada! Cicada!”

“No,” Buck said reasonably, “Chihuahua. Probably the homeliest Chihuahua I’ve ever seen, but you apparently agreed to take it in….”

Sadie turned on him, stretched on her tiptoes to glare and said, “In. Her. Mouth.”

Her snarling tone startled him. Buck glanced down at the female dog and…ewww.

Right there between the dog’s teeth was a chubby, still screeching, red-eyed cicada. He shuddered in honest, horrified revulsion. No wonder the dog was losing fur if she kept things like that in her mouth.

“Good God, is she going to eat it?”

“I don’t know,” Sadie wailed while doing a little dance and flapping her hands. “She keeps getting…things, and bringing them home to me. A dead frog, a slimy night crawler, and now this.”

The little dog whined around the pulsating bug.

“She wants in,” Sadie gasped.

“Over my dead body,” Buck said.

Her expression earnest, Sadie turned to Buck. She even flattened a hand on his chest, which nearly stopped his heart.

“Go out there and take it away from her,” she said, her tone commanding.

Buck stiffened. Of all the things to ask, why did it have to be that? And she had asked it while touching his naked chest with her soft little hand, he in his underwear and she in her nightgown, leaving room for all sorts of possibilities.

He hated to disappoint her, but some things were too much. “Sorry, no can do.”

Her lips trembled. “Why?”

“I hate cicadas.”

Her doelike eyes widened. “But you’re a man!”

“Last time I checked, yeah.” At least he knew she’d noticed that much. “And stop yelling. You’re upsetting the dogs.”

Only Butch didn’t look upset. He looked…love-struck. From the moment the other Chihuahua appeared, Butch had gone stock-still, his head tilted, his bulgy little eyes wide. Deep in his throat, a low, husky rumble escaped. Close to a whimper, but Butch was all male dog, so no way would Buck accuse him of whimpering.

Maybe Butch had bad eyesight and didn’t realize the other dog was balding. Maybe—

Sadie’s hand, still on his chest, curled into a fist, grasping a handful of hair. “She’s leaving. You have to go get her.”

When Buck just winced, she changed tactics. “Oh please. I can’t lose her, but I can’t go out there, either. I just can’t. Not while she has that awful thing in her mouth.”

Buck watched the dog trot around the corner. He shook his head, denying the inevitable. “I hate cicadas. If it were a spider, no problem at all. A snake, I’m there. But cicadas—”

Sadie jerked, nearly removing his chest hair. “She’s going to get lost!”

Yeah, she probably would. Disgusted and feeling very put out, Buck gently untangled Sadie’s fingers from his chest hair. He leaned down till his nose almost touched hers.

“All right. But you owe me.”

Her lashes fluttered in incomprehension.

“Agreed?”

She swallowed, then gave a small nod. “All right.”

Satisfied, Buck picked up Butch and handed him to her. “Hold him. I’ll be right back.”

“Her name is Tish,” Sadie yelled in a belated effort to be helpful.

Buck crept out, his eyes darting this way and that, his ears alert to the scream of the cicada. No sign of the dog. No sign of other neighbors, either, thank God, since he wore only boxers.

In a ridiculously high voice for a man who weighed two-twenty-five, all of it muscle, he called, “Tish? Come on, sweetie pie. Heeeere, Tish…”

He rounded the corner of the building and there she sat, her round butt almost hidden in the tall grass. She’d put down the cicada, but it wasn’t moving. It just…lay there, looking gruesome and wicked with its fiery eyes exposed. Ick. Why wouldn’t the damn thing fly away?

Buck drew a fortifying breath. “Come here, baby,” he cajoled.

Tish tipped her head and stared. Her ears perked up, forming a wrinkle in her bald forehead. Buck could see her belly and what looked like a scar. He frowned—until Tish put one paw on the vibrating bug.

Buck’s stomach lurched. How could she bare to touch it? “Come on, Tish. Be a good girl, now. No reason to be afraid, baby, I promise. I just want to hold you. That’s all.”

Behind him, Sadie whispered, “I bet you say that to a lot of girls.”

Buck’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, so he wouldn’t startle the dog, he pivoted to face her. “I thought you were too chicken to come out.”

The hem of Sadie’s gown was soaked and clung to her ankles. She was shivering in the brisk morning air, with Butch hugged up to her chest, shielding her breasts from view. Butch didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked real cozy.

“You’re between me and the bug.” Her expression was taut. “That helps.”

A thought occurred to Buck and his eyes rounded. “You didn’t close my door, did you?”

Sensing his alarm, Sadie hesitated before admitting, “Um… Yes. Why?”

Just what he didn’t need this morning. Letting his gaze settle on hers, he growled, “Because now it’s locked. And in case you didn’t notice, I’m in my boxers.”

She cleared her throat. “I, uh, noticed.”

She had? Of course she had, he told himself. They’re bright yellow and have monkeys all over them. His eyes narrowed more. “All right, brainiac, so how am I supposed to—”

Sadie started backpedaling. “Here she comes!”

Buck jerked around, prepared for the worst, but thank God, Tish had left the cicada behind. “That’s a good girl, Tish. Come here, baby.” He knelt down, held out his arms, and the dog…dodged around him.

Buck tried to grab her, lost his balance and landed butt-first in the wet grass. Dew instantly soaked through his boxers.

Sadie dropped Butch into his lap and took up the pursuit. After more wild scrambling and a few near spills of her own, she caught Tish. Wild-eyed with alarm, the pudgy little dog wiggled, getting the front of Sadie’s gown wet before settling against her and tucking her head into Sadie’s underarm.

“There you go, Tish,” she crooned softly. “It’s okay now. I’ve got you. I’d never hurt you.”

Cradling the fat little dog securely, Sadie came back to Buck. She kissed the dog’s ear, which thankfully had fur on it. “Thank you, Buck.” She kissed the dog again, and her voice went soft and sweet. “She’s more trouble than three Great Danes, but I already love her.”

Watching Sadie, Buck felt a funny melting sensation in his chest. Sadie the spinster really did seem to adore the animals she took in. How hard it must be to get attached to a pet, and then let it go to someone else.

Yet that’s what she did. Because even though she cared, she couldn’t possibly keep them all. She rehabilitated animals, found them good homes and then said goodbye.

What an incredible woman.

Behind him, the cicada began screeching and took flight. Buck ducked, Sadie squealed. Luckily, for all concerned, it flew in the opposite direction before they had time to get too excited.

“No problem.” Unwilling to wait around to see if the bug returned, Buck shoved to his feet, reached back to pluck the clinging wet material of his boxers off his ass, and nodded. “Now how am I going to get back into my place?”

A blush stained Sadie’s cheeks, making her pink nose less noticeable. Her shoulders slumped and she bit her lower lip.

It was a nice, full lip, Buck realized. He watched her teeth worry it and his heartbeat sped up. She was such an intriguing mix of contradictions. Rigid and formal in some ways, but overtly sensual in others.

He shook his head and concentrated on her eyes. They were a soft brown, almost the color of milk chocolate, framed by darker lashes, and at the moment, filled with guilt.

“I, uh, suppose you could come into my place and call the manager.”

“At six in the morning?” He tucked Butch under one arm and shifted. Everyone in the complex knew better than to bother Henry before a respectable hour. “Respectable” to Henry was around noon, but Buck wasn’t going to sit around in his boxers that long.

Sadie continued to chew on that soft, full bottom lip, agonizing in indecision until Buck took pity on her. “How about you pour me a coffee, maybe even throw some breakfast together, and at eight I’ll call him?”

Her eyes rounded. “Coffee?”

“Yeah. It’s a morning drink. Hot, loaded with caffeine. I didn’t get a single cup yet, and right about now, I need it.”

“I know what it is.” She struggled again, then gave up and cradled the dog a little lower in her arms. “I have some made already.”

“Great.” The damp front of her gown clung to her breasts. “I’m freezing my ass off. My nipples are so hard, I could cut glass.”

Her mouth fell open, and she looked at his chest.

Buck, feeling provoked by that hot, nearly tactile stare, pointed out gently, “Yours too, for that matter.”

Her stunned gaze clashed with his, held for two heartbeats, then she whipped around, giving him her back.

Buck watched the gown settle around her trim hips and the plump curves of her small behind.

Ignoring his comment on her stiffened nipples—which really had tantalized him—she stammered, “Y-you want to stay at my apartment for two hours?”

Distracted, he murmured, “Yeah, why?” And then, realizing how unenthusiastic she sounded, he added, “Is that a problem?”

She shrugged.

“Turn around, Sadie. I don’t like talking to the back of your head.” And he liked seeing her expressive eyes as she spoke, the way she watched him, how easily she blushed.

She turned, but kept the dog held high. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, that’s all.”

So, Buck thought, he was good enough to save her bald, bug-eating dog, but not good enough to feed? Did she find him so distasteful that she couldn’t tolerate his company for two measly hours?

He shifted again, ready to grumble at her, then saw her eyes dip past his navel. She sighed softly before remembering herself and returned her gaze to his face. This time she didn’t blush, but she did look defiant, as if daring him to mention her gaffe.

Given how she kept checking him out, maybe she didn’t find him distasteful at all. Buck grinned. “You think I should just sit on my back porch twiddling my thumbs till Henry wakes up? In this wet underwear?” When she still looked undecided, he added, “With a Chihuahua on my lap?”

The mention of the dog did it.

“Oh.” She frowned, shrugged her thin shoulders and tucked her silky hair behind her ear. “I, uh, I guess not.” And she glanced at his lap again. “That wouldn’t be fair to Butch.”

If she didn’t quit that, the monkeys on his shorts were gonna start dancing. Having a female, even a spinster-type female, stare at a guy’s crotch usually got the action started. Seeing as he had no way of hiding it, he just knew her blush would brighten up a few notches.

With perfect timing to break the awkward moment, Butch barked, then stared at Tish while making that low humming sound again. Buck scratched the dog’s ear, knowing just how he felt.