I could, however, scream. Which was what I’d done.
He’d thought I was just ‘playing’ when I’d told him no. Something I was most certainly not doing.
Anyway, long story short, my dad had come into the room and threw Reggie through my bedroom window, nearly killing him because he was impaled on a piece of glass through the chest.
Paramedics had rushed to the scene and saved Reggie’s life.
Something my father probably could’ve offered Reggie, yet he was reluctant to use his abilities on someone that had just tried to rape his teenaged daughter.
It’d eventually been the reason I’d gone into nursing, and then furthering my schooling by becoming a physician’s assistant.
I found that I rather liked the trauma situations; in fact, I thrived during them.
“Hey, Missy,” Bob, the neighbor to my right, waved from his perch on his front porch step.
I waved back. “How’s the missus doing, Bob?”
He shrugged. “Cantankerous.”
I giggled. “I’ll tell her you said that!”
He winked. “That woman’s my world, girl. There ain’t nothin’ you can tell her that she hasn’t heard from me before.”
I smiled at my favorite neighbor, heart full of envy at their relationship.
I just wished that one day I could have something like they did.
Someone to spend my afternoons with rocking in my rocking chair. Someone to bring a glass of sweet tea to when he’d been mowing the lawn all morning. Someone who brought me home flowers every Sunday morning just because he saw them on the side of the road on the way home from church.
“I got another one of your packages for you. It’s on your front hall table,” Bob explained as I started up my front walk.
I tossed a smile at him.
“Was Cola good for you today?” I asked loudly over my shoulder as I stuck the key in the lock.
He made a so-so gesture with his hand. “Only one accident, but that was because she got too excited when she saw me. Other than that, she did wonderfully.”
Cola was my six month old Great Pyrenees that I’d gotten in Dog Alley in Canton, Texas during First Monday Trade Days.
‘Trades Days’ was what one would call a huge flea market.
Some of it was homemade, while other of it was obviously bought overseas. Food, clothes, furniture. If you wanted it, they probably had it.
“Thank you, Bob,” I said, smiling when Cola came barreling out of the door. “She looks happy to see me.”
I smiled and got down on one knee, allowing me to wrap my arms around Cola’s thick neck to hug her.
She was such a big, loving girl.
“Who’s that?” Bob asked, watching as a truck started to drive down our street at an extremely slow pace.
I sighed.
“His name’s Bennett. I borrowed his jacket and he left his phone in it,” I explained.
Bob was protective of me.
When I’d started to look for places, I was very particular in my tastes.
I wanted the house to be isolated, and at the end of a road that assured nobody had to pass my house.
If they made it as far as Bob’s house, they had to be there for a reason.
Something that I really liked knowing.
“Sure that’s why,” Bob laughed. “More like you stole it. You stole it, didn’t you?”
I gasped in affront. “I most certainly did not steal anything!”
Cola, sensing the man that had just stepped foot out of his truck, started barreling towards the newcomer in her happy, nobody’s a stranger, lope that would probably end up in a tackle.
Bennett, though, saw the dog coming and braced his legs.
Cola hit him like a battering ram, but Bennett didn’t even go back at all.
I would’ve ended up on my ass.
Shaking my head, I started walking towards Bennett.
“Why are you dressed like that?” I asked curiously.
Head to toe in black. He even had a mask on his head that was black. Although it was only partially covering his head more like a toboggan would.
“SWAT call,” he said simply, holding out his hand.
I took his hand and shook it firmly before dropping it.
His look of amusement had my eyebrows lowering. “What?”
“I wanted my phone, but a handshake works, too. Wasn’t aware women were into handshakes when they saw men, but I’ll remember your preference for next time when we see each other,” he said lightly.
My face flamed, and I reached into the jacket I was wearing, handing him everything that was in there.
“Thanks,” he muttered, shoving the phone into his pocket and hooking his pager on his belt.
“Umm,” I said, looking at the road as Paxton rolled up in his smart car. “Thanks for coming.”
It was obviously a dismissal, and the way his eyes flared with laughter pointed out that he knew that it was, too.
“Right,” he said, giving Cola one more good scratch behind the ear before he turned on his heel and headed to his truck. “Thanks.”
“You’re keeping the jacket?” Paxton asked in surprise.
I looked down and jumped. “Oh! Bennett!”
He started the truck, but rolled his window down to look at me.
“What?” He asked over the growl of the engine.
“Your jacket!” I said, thrusting my chest forward and lowering my arms to allow the jacket to slip free.
“Keep it,” he laughed. “You’ll need something to keep you warm at night. ‘Cause Lord knows nobody would want to do that job themselves.”
On my outraged screech, he rolled the window up and peeled out of his spot at the curb.
“Wow,” Paxton said, fanning himself. “That man was hot. I wonder…”
“He’s not gay, nor will he ever be gay. Fuck, but did you see that man? And the attitude? Jesus Christ, he’s got to have the worst sense of humor in the world. Ass,” I growled, walking inside.
Before I could walk all the way inside, though, I turned and glared at the two laughing men.
“Good night, Bob! Die, Paxton,” I growled.
Their laughter followed me inside. However, it was the deep timbre of Bennett’s voice, and the smell of his jacket, that kept me warm that night.
Something that would come back to haunt me later.Chapter 3I don’t mind going to work, but the twelve hour wait to go home sucks balls.