Chapter Seven
Jordan
Who the f*ck is this girl?
Checking Dozer over … sounding like she knows what she’s talking about … fixing up his leg…
And that black eye.
I’ve never felt as angry as I did when I saw that. And trust me, some f*cker just ran my dog over, so take it that I’m pretty f*cking angry about her black eye.
That’s the reason she’s been wearing those sunglasses since she arrived. And the way she covered it up when she finally realized I’d noticed it … that bruise was no accident. Someone did that to her.
It’s probably why she was so nervous around me last night. She’s so tiny and sweet and kind. How anyone could ever hurt her is beyond me.
The way she took care of Dozer … the way she’s still taking care of him … Jesus, my poor f*cking dog.
When I find the bastard who did that to him, he’s going to be eating through tubes—just like the guy who gave Mia that black eye.
Dozer might eat way too much, and take up all the space in my bed, but he’s family. I don’t have much of that left nowadays. I can’t lose him too.
“How’s he doing?” I ask over my shoulder.
“His breathing is a little labored.”
I cast a quick glance back. “What does that mean?”
“It means drive faster.”
I slam the pedal to the metal.
A few minutes later, I’m skidding to a stop outside the vets.
Jumping out of the car, I yank the seat forward and lean into the back. Mia shuffles forward and moves Dozer with her, bringing him closer to me.
I lift him into my arms.
F*cking hell. My body groans under his weight. He seems to weigh twice what he did when I picked him up back in the woods.
I shift Dozer against my chest, evening out his weight, and move as quickly as I can toward the vets. Mia is right behind me.
She overtakes and pulls open the door. I dash through.
Spotting the receptionist, I head her way. “My dog’s been hit by a car – he needs help.”
The receptionist rounds her desk. “Follow me.”
I follow quickly behind her, down a hall and into a room. A middle aged guy in a white coat is sitting at a desk working on a computer.
“Dr. Callie, we have a dog who has been hit by a car.”
The vet glances up at us, then gets straight to his feet. “Place him on here.” He points to an examination table.
Dozer flinches when I set him on the table. “Sorry, buddy,” I whisper.
“What is his name?” Dr. Callie asks, plugging a stethoscope into his ears. He presses it to Dozer’s chest.
“Dozer.” My voice sounds rough, so I clear my throat.
“I kept a check on his heart rate on the way here.”
I turn at the sound of Mia’s voice. I didn’t even realize she was still behind me.
She keeps her focus on Dr. Callie as she speaks, “It stayed steady at sixty bpm. About five minutes ago, his breathing became a little labored. He has a chest contusion, not severe from what I could tell upon examination. And his front right leg is broken – possibly a mild fracture. I strapped it up the best I could with what I had.”
And I’ll say it again – who the f*ck is this girl?
She sounds confident, a little mechanical—just like she did back at the woods when she was checking Dozer over. Nothing like the quiet, sweet, nervous girl who came into the hotel last night.
Dr. Callie looks up, removing the stethoscope from Dozer’s chest. He takes it from his ears and hangs it around his neck. “Vet or doctor?” he asks Mia.
I wait, suddenly very interested to hear her answer.
“Med student,” she answers quietly. “Second year.”
And just when I thought she couldn’t possibly get any hotter…
Dr. Mia Monroe.
Yep, she just went up a million notches on the hottie counter.
I’ve got doctor (Mia), patient (me), sex scenarios running through my mind on warp speed right now. All of them awesome.
Dr. Callie turns from us and walks over to a metal trolley. He picks up a syringe.
I shudder. I f*cking hate needles.
My mom was constantly being stuck with needles while she was going through treatment.
The treatment that didn’t save her.
Dr. Callie walks back toward Dozer, syringe in hand. “Great job on the leg.” He directs his words to Mia, then looks at us both. “I’m going to need you both to wait outside now.”
“Are you going to stick that in Dozer?” I nod at the needle in his hand.
“Don’t worry, it’s just to sedate Dozer. It won’t hurt him.”
Liar. Needles f*cking hurt.
I take a step closer. “Look, I just need to know … is he going to be okay?” My voice suddenly sounds small. I’m reminded of how I sounded in the hospital when we found out the treatment hadn’t worked. That mom was going to die.
A lump forms in my throat. And my eyes start to water. A dog. I’m getting emotional over a f*cking dog.
I clear my throat.
“He’s going to be fine.” Dr. Callie smiles kindly.
The receptionist holds the door open for us. For the first time, I notice the name badge on her uniform – Penny.
“If you want to wait up front in the reception area, I’ll come and let you know how Dozer is doing as soon as I can,” Penny says.
I follow Mia to the door. Stopping, I turn back to Dr. Callie. “Take good care of him.”
He nods.
Penny closes the door behind us, staying in the room.
I stare at the door. My eyes start to water again.
Stop acting like a p-ssy, Matthews.
“Shall we sit?” Mia says from behind me.
Pulling in a deep breath, I blink my eyes clear and turn around.
The first thing my lowered eyes make contact with is Mia’s bare stomach.
Flat, soft creamy skin that is just begging to be licked. I lift my eyes, and of course, I have to check her tits out.
If she just raised her hands above her head, I’d totally get a view…
Jesus Christ. What the f*ck is wrong with me?
She ripped her t-shirt to help Dozer, who is currently being treated by a vet because he was hit by a car, and here I am checking her out like a sex-crazed idiot.
“I owe you a t-shirt.” I point to the bare skin I was just staring at.
She glances down. Her cheeks flush red, and she wraps her hands around her mid-section, covering herself. “Don’t worry about it. It was just a cheap Walmart shirt.”
She drives a Mercedes and wears Walmart? This girl makes no sense at all.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
With a brisk nod, I turn and walk past her toward the reception area.
I know she’s behind me, so when I reach the seats I step aside and allow her to sit first before taking the seat beside her.
See, I’m not a total douche. I can be a gentleman.
I lean forward, resting my arms on my thighs. They’re still aching from carrying Dozer. This move puts me real close to Mia. She smells just like she did last night—vanilla.
No one should smell this good. It makes functioning difficult. Or not functioning, if you catch my drift.
I can’t remember ever being this hot for a girl before. Just my f*cking luck that I can’t touch her.
“Thank you … for what you did for Dozer,” I say. I don’t look at her. If I want to keep my thoughts clean, then it’s a good idea to avoid as much visual contact as possible.
“No problem.”
Her voice is so soft, just as I imagine her skin feels. Soft and warm, and I bet she’s really tight…
“I like dogs,” she adds. “All animals, in fact. They’re a whole lot nicer than people.”
There’s a sudden sadness to her voice, and I can’t help but look at her.
Her lips are downturn, and I notice she’s still wearing those god-awful sunglasses.
“You can take the sunglasses off, you know. There’s only us here, and I’ve already seen what you’re hiding behind them.”
Her whole body stiffens.
There’s a long pause where she does absolutely nothing. I’m not actually sure that she’s still breathing. I wonder if I’ve said the wrong thing. Gone about this the wrong way?
I don’t want to upset her.
Why? I’m not actually sure. It’s not like I’m usually concerned with a woman’s emotional goings on. But with her, something is just … different.
She lifts her hand to her face and slowly slides the sunglasses off.
I watch her slender fingers tremble as she turns the arms of the sunglasses in and sets them on her lap, hands covering them.
Then I notice that she has these sore looking calluses on the knuckle of her right hand. I notice them because they look out of place with the rest of her soft, flawless skin.
Maybe she has eczema or something.
I lift my eyes to her face.
Her eyes are closed. The bruise so very evident.
Anger pulses inside me again, so f*cking fierce that I could punch a hole in the wall and still not feel clear.
I clench my hands in my lap. “The a*shole that did that to you…?”
She bites her lip and looks away.
The caveman inside me is beating his chest right now, ready to beat the shit out of the a*shole that did this to her. No woman should ever go through that. Especially not her. Definitely not her.
“I can hurt him, Mia. Just say the word and it’s done.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath. Wide, blue eyes meet mine.
Jesus, she’s breathtaking. Even with the black eye.
Her eyes are as stunning as I knew they would be. They’re the color of the water of a caldera.
After high school, I went traveling with some buddies—it was before my mom got sick, and I had to come back home. We were in Lombok, an island in Indonesia, and we had trekked out to Mount Rinjani. There was a caldera there. The water stays hot permanently, due to the volcanic activity, and is so purely blue. All filtering shades rippling together to make the most amazing shade of blue you will ever see.
Mia’s eyes are the exact shade of blue as that water.
Breaking our stare, she begins examining the sunglasses in hand with her eyes and fingers as if her life depends on it.
I don’t think she’s going to say anything, and I have no clue what else to say.
“No one did this to me. It was just an accident.”
Her words are softly spoken, but I feel like they’ve just punched me in my chest.
I shake my head. “People don’t hide accidents like you’re hiding that black eye. And the very fact you said it was an accident just confirms to me that someone did this to you.”
Her eyes snap up to mine. There’s an unexpected fire in them. I like it. Means there is some fight in her.
“So what if someone hurt me. What business is it of yours?”
Wow, that stung. Why did that sting?
I grit my teeth and lean back in my seat. “You’re right. It’s not my business.”
Her anger instantly disappears. So quick, it surprises me.
“God, I’m so sorry. That sounded—I don’t—” She shifts in her seat, her fingers pulling on that plump lower lip. “I don’t mean to come off like a bitch. I really appreciate your offer, but hurting … him … it’s not necessary.”
I turn my head and stare her straight in the eyes. “It looks necessary from where I’m sitting.”
Her hand drops back to her lap. “Violence never solves violence.”
This a*shole blacks her eye, yet she thinks that way. She’s either a f*cking angel, or really stupid. From what I’ve already seen of her, I’m going with angel. I hope she doesn’t prove me wrong on this.
“Maybe not.” I notice her eyes are on my mouth, so I swipe my lower lip with my tongue. “But trust me, it’s the only language that scum, like the bastard who did that to you, understand. And it’d make me feel a whole lot better knowing that me teaching him some manners would mean he’d keep his f*ckin’ hands off you.”
Seriously, once I was done with him, he wouldn’t even breathe in her direction again. I want to hurt this a*shole badly. About as badly as I want to be situated between her thighs.
Why? I barely know this girl. Is it because I want to f*ck her more than I’ve ever wanted to f*ck anyone before.
No, it’s not that. So what the hell is it?
I glance at her, and see that her eyes have filled with tears.
Shit, don’t cry. I don’t do crying chicks.
“Look,” I start to speak quickly to stave off her tears, “I’m just saying that if you want me to hurt him, I will. Call it my way of paying you back for taking care of Dozer. If you don’t, you don’t. No big deal.”
Biting her lip, she nods. A tear falls from her long lashes, splashing onto her jeans.
My chest starts to feel tight. What the f*ck is that?
I look away, giving her privacy as she swipes her fingers under her eyes to dry them.
And also so I can rub this f*cking ache out of my chest.
“Mia, I just want you to know that not all men are a*sholes.”
What. The. F*ck?
Not all men are a*sholes? Jesus Christ, Matthews. Yes, we are. There are just varying degrees of male a*sholeness.
I’m an a*shole. One who would never raise his hand to a woman, and I f*cking abhor men that do. But I have absolutely no problem in hooking up with a chick, then walking away from her the second my cock is out of her.
Case in point – whatsername from yesterday. See, I can’t even remember her name. That’s how big an a*shole I am.
Weird thing is … I don’t want Mia to think I’m an a*shole. I want her to like me.
It’s the whole damsel in distress thing. Has to be. And the way she took care of Dozer before, so gentle with him. Frigging amazing.
It’s doing f*cked up things to me.
I risk a glance and her wide, glistening, bright blue eyes are blinking back at me. Long lashes bat against her cheekbones.
Jesus, she’s beautiful.
She licks her lips and presses them together. My eyes fall to them.
I want to kiss them.
Her.
Everywhere.
Run my tongue over every inch of her silky soft skin.
I bet she tastes like vanilla. Tastes exactly like she smells.
I want to spread her legs and bury my head between her thighs. Lick her until she screams my name. Then push my cock deep inside and f*ck her until we both lose our goddamn minds from the pleasure.
I might not have test driven her yet, but I just know that sex with Mia Monroe would be that good. I have a sense for these things.
Yes, I know it’s totally inappropriate for me to want this at this exact moment, but people look for comfort in difficult situations, right?
And Dozer would understand. That dog is as horny as I am. He’s just about dry humped every piece of furniture we own. I once caught him going at it with the wooden table in the garden. Poor bastard was so desperate to get off that he risked splinters. I really should get him laid.
Holy shit. Dozer’s a virgin.
Now that’s just not right.
I swear to God right here and now – get Dozer through this and I promise the first thing I’ll do is hook him up with the hottest dog I can find. Not that I know anything about hot dogs … yeah, I caught that, I’m as funny as I am good-looking. But I think a fancy dog like a poodle or something would work for Dozer.
“So, Jordan…” I seriously dig the way she says my name. “Dozer is an unusual name for a dog. Where did that come from? He sleep a lot?” Her lips work on a smile, and my dick pulses in response.
She’s after a subject change, and I can go with that. I let out a laugh and look away before I do something stupid like pull a Dozer and try to dry hump her leg.
“Yeah, he sleeps tons, but that’s not where it came from. Dozer was a stray. Found him at our door one night when he was a puppy. He was starving, so we took him in and fed him. We put out fliers, but no one claimed him, so we kept him. In the first week he stayed with us, he broke a shit load of stuff—ornaments, plates, glasses, even a window.”
I laugh again, remembering how pissed my dad was when Dozer jumped head first at the living room window trying to get at a bird on the porch. Shattered the window.
“Basically, Dozer broke everything he touched, and my dad said he was like a bulldozer taking down everything in his path, and it just kinda stuck. Ended up being shortened to Dozer, because he can be a little dozy at times.” I smile, then I glance in the direction of the hall. “I’ve just always thought of him as invincible, you know.”
“He’s going to be fine, Jordan. It’s just a broken leg—well, not just a broken leg, because broken legs are incredibly painful, I just meant—”
Her face has gone red. She’s flustered. Cute.
“I know what you meant.” I smile.
A small smile touches her lips. “Aside from his leg, I really don’t think there is anything else to worry about.” She touches my arm with her fingers. It’s a gentle touch, almost imperceptible. But even still, my blood turns to molten f*cking lava at the contact.
She withdraws her hand. A look of surprise on her face.
You’re surprised, sweetheart? Well, you’re not the only one.
With the hot lava flooding straight to the main man, I talk to distract myself from my impending boner. “So you’re a doctor,” I say, just remembering that. How the f*ck did I forget that?
Hell, she’s a living, breathing wet dream.
“Training to be,” she says quietly.
“Where?”
She slides me a glance. “Harvard.”
Harvard. She’s beautiful and incredibly smart.
There’s isn’t anything that’s less than perfect about her. Except for the douchehole of an ex.
“Ivy League – nice.” I nod, impressed.
She shrugs her shoulders in response and looks to the floor, kicking her sneakers together.
So, she’s from Boston. Interesting. I don’t remember seeing that on the form she filled out last night, but then I was too busy eye-f*cking her to notice where she was from.
What’s she doing way out here then? I’d say vacation, but women rarely vacation alone, and they always take pre-planned trips. Turning up at Golden Oaks like she did … this was an unplanned trip. And I’m guessing it had something to do with the a*shole who marred that perfect face.
“So, are you originally from Boston?”
I see her hesitation. Her whole body has stiffened again.
“Yes,” she says on a breath. “Lived there my whole life.”
“What you doing way out here in Colorado?”
She shifts in her seat, tilting her body away from me. “I’m trying to, um…” She clears her throat. “I’m here to find my mother.”
Didn’t expect that.
“You adopted?”
Did I mention I have no filter?
She shakes her head. “No, my father—I lived with my father. My mother left when I was a baby.”
“Shit,” I say. “So your dad … he’s okay about you been out here alone searching for your mom?” And why hasn’t he kicked the cocksucker’s ass who hurt her?
“My father is dead.”
Shit. Guess that answers my questions. But what surprises me is the lack of emotion in her voice about her dad being dead.
Losing my mom was horrendous—beyond horrendous. I adored my mom. If I lost my dad … well, my world would implode.
“Sorry to hear that.” It’s a crap thing to say, but really what else is there to say.
“Thank you.” Emotionless again. Weird.
I twist in my seat to her. “So your mom lives here?”
She brushes her golden hair from her eyes. “Apparently so. I have an address, but it was from over twenty years ago. Whether she still lives there or not, I’m not sure.”
I nod in agreement. “What’s your mom’s name? I’ve lived here my whole life. If she’s still here, I might know her. If not, my dad will. He used to be a cop. He knows everyone.”
She sucks her top lip into her mouth. An image of me doing exactly the same plays a scene in my head.
“Anna Monroe. Well, that was her married name. I don’t know her maiden name.”
I rake through my brain for an Anna. The only person I can think of is Annie Parker, and she’s only a few years older than me. Has a mouth like a vacuum cleaner. Good memories.
“Sorry.” I shake my head.
“It’s okay.” Her smile is sad.
“Hey, how about I look up the address on my phone? See if she still lives there?”
“Would you? I never thought to do that. Thank you.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a ratty piece of paper, then hands it to me.
I get my cell from my pocket and type the address and the name Anna Monroe into the search engine.
What comes up makes my heart drop for Mia. I almost don’t want to tell her.
“Anything?” God, she sounds so hopeful.
I glance up at her. “The address you have for your mom is now home to a grocery store.”
“Oh.”
Jesus, I can literally feel her disappointment like it’s my own.
My chest feels tight again. Seriously, what the f*ck is that? I rub at my sternum with my fingers.
“The houses must have been leveled for the store to be built,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” She takes the piece of paper from me and holds it in her hand.
She smiles, but it’s forced.
She looks so lost. So sad. It’s painful to see.
“I can help you find your mom, if you want?”
What the f*ck! Have I lost my mind?
I don’t spend time with girls outside the bedroom. Apart from Beth, and that’s only because she plays for the same team as I do.
If I spend time with Mia, I know what will happen. And I can’t get balls deep with her.
Yes, I might have spent the last five minutes imagining her flat on her back, and me pounding into her like a jackhammer, but I’m not a complete bastard.
I may not know the full story, but it’s clear this girl has been through the wringer with the a*shole who gave her the black eye, and now she’s searching for her mother. The mother who abandoned her when she was a baby.
Mia might be the hottest girl I have ever seen … okay, she is the hottest girl I have ever seen in life, and the sweetest. And I’m so horny for her that my dick actually hurts. It motherf*cking hurts.
But the girl’s got enough to deal with.
And me spending an invariable amount of time around a hot girl that I cannot put my dick inside … it’s just not possible.
I might as well be in prison.
Or hell.
That’s it, I’m in hell.
This is payback for the chick I banged who was married.
Okay, I lied before. I totally knew she was married when I tapped that.
“Would you?” She sounds hopeful. “I mean, I wouldn’t know where to start, and you know the people in this town, so you’d know who to speak to.”
“Sure I will.” That’s it. Keep talking dickhead. Keep digging that hole deeper. “Like I said, I owe you for what you did for Dozer.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Jordan. I wanted to help you.”
She said my name again. I’m toast.
“And I want to help you.”
And I want to help you. Jesus, I’m such a lame ass p-ssy.
It’s official. I’ve lost my f*cking mind.
Then she smiles. It’s wide and bright and dazzling, and like a sucker punch to the chest. And ball sack.
My life has just got seriously hard.
Kind of like the permanent state of my cock while around Mia Monroe.