Primal Force (K-9 Rescue #3)

Once they were both in his truck, she turned to him, her eyes a little bright. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have the nerve to do this alone.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek near the corner of his mouth.

Again, he only allowed himself a nod. Anything else would be a disaster. He didn’t know how to cherish. But he did know how to protect. If anybody said or did anything today to dim the light in her eyes or stiffen the soft beauty of her smile, he would pound them into the ground.

Law turned on the ignition, threw his beat-up truck into gear, and stomped on the pedal, sending gravel flying.

*

Sam looked up from the backseat, curious about the cause of the excitement. All she noticed was two Alphas on high alert. But not the scared or angry kind. That other kind she hadn’t quite figured out. But it made the air between them fragrant with happy.

At least Cat wasn’t with them. The last glimpse she’d had of the feline was as she was being shut into the downstairs bathroom with a tray of something even Sam wouldn’t eat.

Samantha lay her head on her paws and sighed. Alpha happy. Pack happy.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Looks like Santa farted Christmas all over town.”

Jori laughed. “That’s a terrible way to put it.”

Law wagged his head in disbelief as he inched his truck along Spring Street. The narrow winding lane through downtown Eureka Springs was clogged with shoppers and holiday guests drawn by the town’s monthlong celebration, and the chance to purchase one-of-a-kind artwork, jewelry, and crafts.

“Just look at that.” He pointed to a storefront window where a young man sat wearing a Santa’s elf costume. Holding a huge peppermint lollipop, he waved at passersby. “That’s just freaky.”

“They call them living windows, Law.”

Law grunted. “I’d say a man dressed up like that lacks a certain amount of self-respect.”

Jori landed a playful swat on his arm. “Some people have a better-developed sense of play. I bet you’d make a wonderful elf.”

He scowled at her, but it was halfhearted.

“Now, that’s more like it.” He pointed to a young woman standing on the curb at the Basin Street Park, right in the middle of town. She wore bright-red Heidi braids and a Santa’s helper costume that consisted of a lace-up bustier, a very short skirt with ruffled panties, and thigh-high white stockings with Christmas bows as garters. The sign beside her said she was handing out fudge samples from Two Dumb Dames Fudge Factory.

He turned his sludge-gold gaze on her. “Would you wear that for me?”

Jori laughed. “No way. You’re hell on lingerie.”

“Damn straight.”

Jori turned away from his wolfish grin, a little stunned that the man she’d once thought had no sense of humor was teasing her. Better to concentrate on the scenery.

Law was right. Eureka Springs’s Old World spa village facade of original nineteenth-century Victorian houses and storefronts did look like a Santa’s Christmas Village come to life. Every store window and restaurant and bar entrance that wasn’t swagged and wreathed was strangled with tinsel and ornaments and lights. But the town lost its starchy appearance after dark, becoming the most open-minded in the state.

She had often walked the meandering slope of Spring Street on a weekend getaway from the University of Arkansas with friends. There were bars for every taste. Her favorite had been the Rowdy Beaver Tavern, which offered karaoke as well as live bands. Other bars catered to bikers. Some welcomed doctors, lawyers, and businesspeople styling the “Born to Be Wild” swagger of their lost youth. Others, like the Cathouse Lounge, served the hard-core one-percenters. Both groups shared a love of the challenge and the thrill of riding the steep twisty roads leading into town. For the moment, the celebration of Christmas had brought everyone into cheerful coexistence.

Jori glanced at Law, who was intently watching holiday shoppers cross the street without even acknowledging traffic. This would be her first Christmas in five years to celebrate as she wished. So what did she wish for? She mustn’t wish for him. If history was any judge, she didn’t make good decisions where the men in her life were concerned. The jump from outlaw businessman to wild-man lawman sounded a lot like rebound.

Lost in thought, she didn’t realize they had climbed past town and up through the residential area until they came out of the final steep, twisty turn of the street at the entrance to the Crescent Hotel. Here the crowd swelled again as people milled around the Christmas Tree Forest of lighted and decorated trees on the east lawn. The hotel built on the mountaintop rose out of the woodland darkness as majestic as any Old World castle.

But it was the laughter that caught Jori’s attention as they pulled into the curved drive before the multistoried hotel. Carefree and joyful laughter.