Hero By Night (Independence Falls 3)

“For the past six months, my little sister has talked about you, saving every article about your family’s company,” the angry woman continued.

Whoa . . . Yes, he’d taken Susan Lewis out once and they’d ended the night back at his place, but he could have sworn they were on the same page. Hell, he’d heard her say the words, I’m not looking for anything serious, and he’d believed her. It was one freaking night. He didn’t think he needed signed documents that spelled out his intentions and hers.

“She’s practically built a shrine to you,” she added, waving her empty beer cup. “Susan was ready to plan your wedding.”

“Again, I’m sorry, but it sounds like there was a miscommunication.” Chad withdrew a bandana from his back pocket, one that had belonged to his father, and wiped his brow. “But wedding bells are not in my future. At least not anytime soon.”

The angry sister shook her head, spun on her heels, and marched off.

Chad turned to the blonde and offered a grin. She looked curious, but not ready to run for the hills. “I guess I made one helluva first impression.”

“Hmm.” She glanced down at her dog as if seeking comfort in the fact that he stood between them.

“I’m Chad Summers.” He held out his hand—­the one part of his body not covered in beer.

“You’re Katie’s brother.” She glanced briefly at his extended hand, but didn’t take it.

He lowered his arm, still smiling. “Guilty.”

“Lena.” She nodded to the dog. “That’s Hero.”

“Nice to meet you both.” He looked up the hill. Country music drifted down from the house. Someone had finally added some life to the party. ­Couples moved to the beat on the blue stone patio, laughing and drinking under the clear Oregon night sky. In the corner, Liam Trulane tossed logs into a fire pit.

“After I dry off,” Chad said, turning back to the blonde, “how about a dance?”

“No.”

Chad waited for an excuse, expecting a lie—­her dog would be lonely or she had a boyfriend. That latter one, lie or not, would send him on his way. But she didn’t say another word.

He stepped toward her, as close as the dog would allow. He was close enough to smell her floral scent. It was too faint for a perfume, most likely her soap. There was a hint of lavender and a touch of honey. As if the sight of her wasn’t enough, the smell made him want to taste her. He leaned in, a fraction of an inch, nothing more. But the next thing he knew, her dog was pushing at his legs.

“Hero is protective of my space.” Lena’s voice had a breathless quality that suggested maybe this time she wished her dog would butt out. Or maybe that was his imagination.

Chad moved back, looking at the golden retriever with renewed interest. For a breed with a reputation for being kind and friendly, this one looked as if he was debating dropping his chew toy and sinking his teeth into Chad’s leg.

“So what brings you two to Independence Falls?” he asked, keeping one eye on Hero.

“Georgia offered me a place to stay. While I get back on my feet.”

“Between jobs?” The rest of the country might be headed toward recovery, but rural Oregon was still suffering high unempl

oyment. A lot of ­people around here were doing their best to “get back on their feet.”

“I guess you could say that,” she said.

She didn’t give an inch. And hell, he liked that. Rocking back on his heels, Chad pretended to think. “What did you do before? I might know someone who is looking.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I can’t go back to it.”

“Being a model is that tough?” He offered her a teasing look that he knew for a fact helped separate women from their panties.

Lena raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know. And you can drop the sweet-­talking act.”

“You’d prefer I talk dirty?” Chad cocked his head, studying her. There it was. A spark of interest in her blue eyes. But she hid it quickly.

“I’ve spent most of my life on army bases. I’m betting you don’t have anything I haven’t heard before.”

So the drop-­dead gorgeous, not-­a-­model woman was a military brat? He took that tidbit and filed it away. He wanted to know more about her—­where she’d grown up, where she’d worked, if she screamed during sex or maintained the calm control he was finding wildly attractive.