Grady Hart frowned as he drove his truck down the rutted dirt lane to the Mountain Dog Rescue Center. He hadn’t expected Linx to be quite so hostile about him adopting the dogs on behalf of the veterans.

Wasn’t she the one who had donated the seed money for his charity by buying Jenna’s sexy see-through high-concept wedding dress for a reality show fundraiser?

True, she’d told him to stay away from her place because her dog supposedly hated him.

Last Christmas, he’d come to Colson’s Corner when his sister Cait was kidnapped by a deranged psychopath. He’d met some of Linx’s family, and she’d pretended she hadn’t known him, by allowing Cait, who she’d befriended, to introduce him.

He’d returned the favor and didn’t let his family know about her—or their past—either. It was better that way—given the heavy accusations she’d thrown his way—threatening to blackmail him for sexual harassment if he didn’t do as she demanded.

True, he’d been her smokejumping instructor, but she was over eighteen and she was the aggressor, chasing him all over the camp and cornering him when he’d least expected.

He slammed the door of his truck and walked up the path to the wooden cabin which served as the office. A chorus of barks ranging from deep bass bellows to the sharp yips of smaller dogs competed to welcome him.

He stepped onto the porch and spied the sign. It said, “Closed.”

What game was she playing? She’d agreed to meet him, but now she was playing hard to get?

As if he’d have anything to do with any woman, including her. All they wanted was a man’s money and having him whipped to the size of a kitty cat at their beck and call.

Nope, because of Linx Colson and others like her, he would never allow himself to be caught up in their drama and games. He simply needed the dogs, nothing more, nothing less.

Grady pressed the buzzer, and a dog barked and whined behind the door. It wasn’t a warning bark, or an aggressive “get off my property” bark, but a playful and demanding bark.

The sound was almost familiar. It was a big dog, that much he could tell. Maybe female and very affectionate—begging for a tummy rub.

How could a dog expert like Linx interpret these noises as hate?

He heard sounds of her scolding the dog named Cedar who she dragged away from the door. Another door slammed and footsteps returned.

Linx opened the door, looked around, and grabbed him by the lapels.

“Get in here before anyone sees you.” She slammed the door, then shoved him against the log walls of her cabin. Still clutching his jacket, she attacked his lips.

Her hot tongue drilled into his surprised mouth—not that he was shocked, and her breath came fast and panting. She devoured him, kissing and nipping his lips and rubbing her cheek against the two-day growth of beard he sported.

He quickly took control of the kiss and grabbed her tight, turning her so she was pressed against the wall, and he was the one plunging his tongue into her mouth.

What was going on here?

But then, this was vintage Linx through and through. She used to jump him behind the mess hall, entice him to follow her to the far side of the hangar, or find him on “mop up” duty and tumble him onto the still smoldering ashes, trusting their flame retardant clothes would take care of any lingering embers.

Then there was the skinny dipping. How could he forget?

But he needed answers, and as long as her lips ravished his, he’d get nothing useful from her—not even the reason she shut her friendly-sounding dog in the bathroom.

Taking a breath of her spicy and seductive scent, he pulled back from her swollen lips enough to mutter, “What’s wrong with your dog? Aren’t you going to put her out before she hurts herself?”

“How do you know it’s a her?” Linx’s head snapped back. “Have you been snooping around? You know my dog hates you.”

“I think she wants to play.”

“You don’t know my dog.” She pushed back from him, and he wanted her lips back on his. Kissing was better than arguing. “We shouldn’t be meeting here. Too dangerous.”

He changed the subject instead. “Let’s go to the barn out back so you can show me the dogs.”

“No, you’re not supposed to be here—”

A loud pounding cut off her reply. “Open up. Sheriff.”

Linx patted her hair down and tugged her shirt, smoothing her jeans before opening the door.

“Oh, hi, Todd!” she chirped. “Grady was just leaving.”

The big man, who had once seemed so friendly when he was rescuing Cait, put his hands on his hips, his right hand near his holstered gun. “Grady Hart. You know damn well you need to leave my sister alone. Leave peacefully, or I’ll be forced to take you to court.”

“To court? What for?” Grady wiped his lips with the back of his hand to remove any traces of telltale lipstick.

“A restraining order. My sister filed a complaint and you’re not supposed to come within fifty feet of her residence.”

Linx shrank from Grady’s side, appearing to hide behind her brother.

What the heck? This woman was no shrinking lily. She was a hellcat on wheels. Why was she acting like she needed her big brother to rescue her?

“The only person who needs restraining is her.” Grady jabbed a finger her direction. He brushed by the lawman and stomped down the steps of the porch.

Linx Colson had just pushed his last button.

* * *

Linx stared out the window at the dust left by Grady’s departing truck, followed by Todd’s patrol car. Apparently, Todd had gotten a missed call from her, so being the protective brother he was, he’d headed for her cabin once he was finished with another call he was on.

She wiped a stray strand of hair from her forehead and opened the bathroom door, letting Cedar out. The dog rushed to the front door, sniffing all the spots where that hot man had taken all the oxygen from her lungs.

Her stomach twisted. Should she have kept Cedar from Grady all these years?

Definitely.

Leaving her alone in a remote cabin where fire broke out was pure negligence.

She reached over and gave Cedar a firm rubbing of her reddish mane. The poor thing had practically been abandoned. She’d needed Linx.

Just like the puppy she’d rescued a few days ago.

“Let’s see if Ginger’s up. Come on.” Linx patted her leg for Cedar to follow her up to her loft where Ginger slept in a box with a hot water bottle next to Linx’s bed.

The little puppy was awake. Her head swayed from side to side, and she squealed, looking for the bottle.

“You adorable little sweetie,” Linx said as she cradled the tiny pooch to her chest. Actually, as newborn puppies went, Ginger was quite large, already the size of a Yorkie. Her fluffy fur was dry and soft, and she’d stopped shivering after putting on weight.

Cedar sniffed the puppy and licked her, but when the puppy tried to latch onto her nose, she jumped back like an alien worm had attacked her.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” Linx patted her dog’s back. “She looks so much like you, that if I didn’t know you’re spayed, I would have thought you’d given birth and kept it a secret from me.”

Cedar groaned and gave a half-hearted bark.

Linx jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen. Poor Ginger was so hungry she squirmed and wiggled between Linx’s breasts. Not that there was anything there for her.

After warming up a bottle of prepared formula, Linx settled on the couch near the front door to feed her little puppy.

Correction, the Center’s newest guest.

She couldn’t afford to adopt every dog she rescued, and puppies like Ginger could bring in donations and a higher adoption fee—money she desperately needed to keep all of her guests housed, fed, and comfortable.

She should get Ginger’s story out on the internet. Any attention and publicity would help with fundraising and attract adoptions for all the dogs.

Cedar’s ears perked up, and she jumped toward the front door as footsteps clambered onto the porch.

It couldn’t be Grady, could it?

The front door opened. By reflex, Linx caught Cedar by the collar. Her heart threatened to jump to her throat, but settled down at the familiar voice hailing through the doorway.

Tami bustled into the cabin like a thunderstorm without the rain. Her platform heels clip-clopped over the heart-pine floor and her large and lethal purse knocked down a plastic vase, spilling a bouquet of dried flowers onto the coffee table.

“Looks like I missed Todd. Passed by him on the way over here.” Tami’s eyelashes fluttered as she propped her hand on her hip. “Next time you sic him on Grady, make sure to clue me in.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Linx explained, hoping her lips weren’t tell-tale swollen from beard burn.

“Good thing, too, or he would have been clued in about Cedar.” Tami took out a compact and checked her lipstick. “You live dangerously.”

“That man is dangerous, not me,” Linx grumbled as she put the nipple of the bottle into Ginger’s mouth. “Did he come up here just to stick it to me?”

“He can stick it my way anytime,” Tami said, slapping a stack of file folders onto her desk. “Got several people looking at commercial property and offices.”

“Oh, really? Who?” Linx paced around the desk, still bottle feeding the puppy.

“Your man’s sister, Cait Wonder, called. She’s looking for a central retail location for her wedding store.”

“A wedding store? Here?”

“Seeing that the town’s full of singles,” Tami primped her hair, “it would make a lot of sense. Maybe she should run a dating service, too.”

Linx had made friends with Cait and her husband, Brian, last Christmas when the couple found two lost chow chow dogs. Their family owned a cabin in a remote area up the mountain, and Linx had taken the dogs in when Cait and Brian had to return to San Francisco.

“Right, a dating service.” Linx’s mind wasn’t on dating—not with her dismal track record. She and men were like oil and water—full of piss and vinegar with a dollop of gunpowder. Explosive chemistry with no safety valve.

“And then there’s your man, Grady Hart.” Tami glanced at her to see if she’d get a reaction.

“He’s not my man,” Linx grumbled, still boiling inside with unspent lust and anger.

Grady Hart had more on his mind than simply getting a dog or two from her. Judging from the way his cock had prodded her, she could easily suss out his secrets—like why, of all places, was he looking for office space here, and more to the point, why wasn’t he out fighting fires?

“If I’m a betting woman, and I am,” Tami said, “I’m thinking he has unfinished business with you.”

“Well, duh.” Linx glanced at Cedar who was busily inhaling every bit of Grady’s scent at the doorway where they had so violently groped each other.

“You poor darling,” Tami teased Cedar. “Bet you still remember him, don’t you?”

“He doesn’t remember her,” Linx retorted. “Abandoned her like he abandons anything female and inconvenient.”

“What do you think he’ll do if he finds out you kept his dog?”

“Finders keepers, losers weepers. Although I don’t think that man’s wept for anyone.” Linx kissed the top of little Ginger’s head. “I don’t want any complications.”

“Then you shouldn’t invite him over here.” Tami turned on her computer. “Keep him at arm’s length.”

“What about the office space he’s looking for? You should tell him there’s nothing available in the entire town.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep him away from you,” Tami said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Somewhere far off, remote, and private.”

Linx burned inside, knowing Tami found Grady attractive. But what could she say? Grady was fair game for all the single women of the world.

His type never lacked women willing to throw themselves at him, as if he were a lottery jackpot. Ironic, wasn’t it, that the biggest assholes and the most commitment-phobic men were the most highly prized.

“You do whatever you want,” Linx said. “I don’t care. I have to feed the rest of the dogs.”

She set Ginger’s empty bottle on the table and put the puppy over her shoulder. Pacing around the small room, she rubbed the puppy’s back. Instead of a burp, wetness seeped and dripped down the front of her blouse.

“Oh, Ginger, you had an accident.” Linx nuzzled the little bundle of sweetness.

“About Grady’s list,” Tami called out as she scrolled through the center’s email. “I think it’s okay if the dog trainer he’s working with approves of the adoption.”

“I don’t agree.” Linx wet a paper towel and wiped off Ginger’s fur. “What happens if we give a dog to the trainer, and it turns out the veteran doesn’t want him?”

“There are no guarantees even with all the screening we do.” Tami sounded exasperated. “You could have someone who’s perfect on paper. Has great references from his neighbors and says all the right things, and then something goes wrong and the dog is surrendered again.”

“Or abused, or worse …”

“I think we should give Grady’s program a chance,” Tami said—or rather Tami’s hormones spoke. “Let’s give him one of our hardest-to-place dogs and see how he does.”

“They’re not experiments.” Even though Linx grumbled about it, she had to look at the realistic situation. The more dogs she placed in their forever homes, the more she could rescue from kill shelters.

“Here’s a good one,” Tami said, staring at the screen. “Grady has a veteran who needs a mean-looking dog. One who’s calm and collected, but scary to look at.”

“Men with small balls always want a mean-looking dog, and then when they can’t handle it, they dump the dog at the pound.” Linx set Ginger into a box lined with a towel and heated a hot water bottle in the microwave.

“You need to take a chance,” Tami said. “Besides, I’m betting there’s nothing small on your man, Grady.”

And Linx was betting Tami was dying to find out—firsthand. She kept needling her with the “your man” thing, hoping Linx would flat out deny it and give her the green light.

“Fine, I’ll take a look and see what we have. Watch over Ginger.” Linx strode across the small box-like cabin through the kitchen to the back door.

Dogs barked and bayed at her as she dragged the bag of food from kennel to kennel, exchanging dirty bowls with clean ones. She stopped to pat and chat with each guest, from the old bulldog that had been with her since she’d started the center to the newest arrival, a majestic-looking German shepherd pitbull mix who stood quietly at her side while she filled his bowl.

He didn’t dig in until she gave the command, and he didn’t join in the incessant barking that the other dogs did to pass the time.

“Still getting used to us, aren’t you?” She rubbed his neck. He was one of the dogs who had been surrendered by his owner. The usual excuses were death in the family, loss of living space, or move across the country. This one was a soldier deploying to a warzone.

She sighed as she surveyed the rows and rows of kennels, each housing a shell-shocked former pet who had either been abandoned or had been abused to the point of running away. Finding new homes for them was a priority. Her shelter was no-kill, and she relied on donations and adoption fees to keep the operation going.

Which reminded her. She needed to get the center spruced up for the Fourth of July festivities. Hang up the flag, red, white, and blue banners, and make sure everything was clean and spiffy.

Every year, in the week running up to July 4, Colson’s Corner had a Gold Rush Festival which attracted tourists and locals alike. She would have a booth plastered with photographs of the available rescue dogs, as well as incentives for people to visit the shelter where she could pre-qualify potential adopters for the pet auction held after the Fourth of July parade.

There was no time to worry about whether Grady found an office or not. The only thing that mattered was keeping him and Cedar apart.

Oh, sure, he hadn’t looked for her much after that fire four years ago, but then again, she hadn’t posted anything either.

Cedar was hers, and she had a much better life with Linx than with a traveling smokejumper who didn’t understand the first thing about responsibility.