Oliver waited until they were in the stream of traffic before he glanced over at his companion. She was sitting straight up in her seat, having spread newspapers beneath her before she sat down. He was certain the car rental people would be grateful. They’d had to open all the windows to dispel the eau de dumpster that permeated both Wookie and her. It helped. A little. She still looked like a homeless person, except for the blotch of color in her hair revealed by her missing cap.
There was a thick streak of turquoise blue running diagonally from her hairline into the thick darkness of her waves where the streaks tailed off, like a comet. That kind of thing usually went along with a nose ring, gloppy mascara, and all-black attire. And plenty of attitude. Check yes on the last item.
At the moment, however, she seemed awfully subdued. Staring dead ahead, as if he’d steered them into five lanes of oncoming traffic, she stroked Wookie so hard the poor little pup would be bald if she kept it up. Her other hand gripped the door handle for dear life. Yep. Definitely a bit of shock setting in. Except for giving the occasional direction, she hadn’t offered a word of conversation.
“You okay?”
She glanced at him, her rich caramel-colored eyes a little too wide for natural expression. “Of course. Why?”
He could think of about half a dozen reasons, starting with the fact that she was scared shitless, though he didn’t know why. The freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks were standing in stark relief. But he’d had plenty of experience with people who’d suffered a shock. “You haven’t told me your name. I’m Oliver Kelly.”
She flashed a very fake smile. “Mac.”
“Just Mac?”
She rolled a shoulder.
“Transgendering, are we?” She shot him a hostile sideways glance. “Just checking. What with the grunge clothing and turquoise hair dye, it’s tough to tell who you’re trying to attract.”
“Not trying at all. This?” She swept a hand down her front. “Fashion statement.”
He grinned. “What about the repell-y attraction vibe going on between us?”
She turned her look fully on him. “There’s no attraction.”
“Whatever you say.” At least she was talking. “How did those asswipes know where to find your car?”
She repositioned Wookie, who was getting over his ordeal and becoming curious about the dog in the backseat. Jackeroo was watching the Pom with quiet intensity. “Lucky guess?”
“You told the deputy they knew which car they were looking for.”
“Did I?”
Hard-ass. But so was he. “Those boys went all Beyoncé Lemonade on your car for a reason. That means you have an enemy. Had that occurred to you?”
Macayla didn’t glance at him. She’d been thinking of little else. But she wasn’t going to confide in a stranger. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“You’re trying to avoid them all.”
She gave a little shake of her head. “This is not your problem.”
“Tell that to my face.”
She glanced back at him, really taking inventory this time. He was looking at her with his one good eye. The left was puffed closed. It dawned her that she should probably have offered to drive. A second glance at the hard set of his jaw beneath his beard told her that probably wouldn’t have been a good move. He was trying to be a gentleman. Or maybe he was just the alpha-male sort who needed to be in charge at all times. Or she was just being difficult. Though she had no idea why.
To be fair, most people would have done what the other bystanders did. Call the cops and meanwhile take a lot of cell phone video of the violence they wanted no part of. “Why did you get involved in the fight?”
He was scowling when he glanced back from the road ahead. “You needed help. I was there.”
“Is that the only reason?”
He gave her a curious look as he turned the corner. “You mean no other guy you know would have stepped in? Or do you think I just like a fight?”
She gave him a pissy look. She could feel it on her face.
He laughed. “Now, my brothers Rafe and Tommy would have rushed in for the sheer hell of it. Get a few beers down them and they go all aggro, spoiling for a fight. Started more than a few at the local pub in their younger years.”
“What about you?”
He grinned. “I’m too vain to want to mess this up.” He ran his palm under his chin as if presenting his face as exhibit number one.
Mac shook her head but smiled. She believed him. He had a lot to protect. Those cheekbones. That chiseled mouth. She noticed that his bun had come down in the altercation. Hair flowed onto his shoulders in the tawny shades of a lion’s mane. As she watched, he ran a hand through it, fingers curled into a rake that lifted and settled the hair back from his face.
He caught sight of himself in the rearview mirror. “Aw, crap. I’m ruined.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Mac’s dry tone brought his attention back to her.
“Sorry?”
“I mean, I understand your face”—as well as other parts of his ridiculously toned body—“is your fortune. But with a body like yours, most patrons won’t notice a black eye.” Her gaze slid over him to emphasize her point.
She didn’t mean for it to snag on any particular part of him, like the hard curve of his shoulder nearest her. But once she began, the inventory took on a life of its own. He’d covered up his perfectly impressive chest by donning his hoodie. It looked as if he’d tucked a boulder in each shoulder seam. She’d already seen the abs, and the slim hips, and the tight curve of his ass. And the colorful shoulder tattoos. But it was the way he looked at her, like she had his full and complete interest. What woman could resist all that turquoise scrutiny?
“See something you like?”
What could she say? “Nice bod. Not that I’m interested.”
“You totally are.” He grinned and her toes curled inside her boots. There was a dimple hiding in his beard. A damn dimple!
Mac gave in to embarrassed laughter. “Okay. So you’re a lot of hot. You expect ogling, I guess. Being in your line of work.”
He frowned in puzzlement. “What are you talking about?”
“The Thunder from Down Under male revue. Your accent gave you away. There’re billboards around advertising that you guys are in town. I’ve never been to a show, but I hear it’s…” Suddenly she realized she couldn’t repeat without blushing what she’d heard about all-male revues from her friends.
“A fun evening?” He was grinning wide, a twinkling of amusement deep in his gaze. “You should come to a show.”
“Not my thing.”
His amusement increased. “Too sexy?”
“Too sleazy.”
His expression turned chill. “You just insulted my job.”
Mac felt herself blush but didn’t apologize. After all, this was a man who bared his ass for dollar bills. Still, she couldn’t blame him for drumming up business. “Being nice to women comes naturally for you.”
“Yes. My mum taught me well.”
“She approves of what you do for a living?”
“Absolutely. My whole family’s proud of the business I’m in.”
“Hm.”
“That was an insulting hm.”
“Not my business. Here we are. Turn in here.”
When they had found a space in the parking lot of Gulfstream Veterinary Hospital, Oliver rolled his head toward her. “The vet. You brought me to see a vet?”
She smirked. “It’s not for you. It’s for Wookie. I need to be certain he isn’t suffering from any cuts or bruising from his ordeal before I take him to his owners.”
“A bath and flea dip would be more in order.”
Mac couldn’t disagree. She had meant to make a joke of bringing Oliver to be treated by a veterinarian but his poor eye looked like raw meat. And that was no laughing matter. “The doctor I’m sending you to works in the Emerga-Care center just there.” She pointed to a building across the street. “Ask for Dr. Alicia. Tell her I sent you and to put it on my tab.”
“You have a tab at an emergency clinic?”
“I can get a bit scraped up chasing animals. I found Dr. Alicia’s Rottweiler weeks after he’d escaped from her parents’ care while she was on vacation. She was so grateful that she offered to take care of any injuries I might get, if they can be handled in the office.”
Oliver was impressed. “She must really like her dog.”
“Doesn’t everybody?” Mac grabbed her purse, which Sam had handed off to her as her car was towed away. “Thanks for the ride.” She reached back to give Jackeroo’s head a scratch. “See you around. Or, no, I guess I won’t.”
Hand braced on the wheel, Oliver leaned toward the passenger side. He smelled good, of sunshine and warm skin. His smile could sell … anything. “That could change. Dinner?”
“Sorry. But I can’t.” Mac looked down, seeking less heat than his gaze. “I’ve got business. And my dogs. And things.”
“I make you nervous.”
She chanced a glance. “I imagine you make many women nervous.” And hot and horny, et cetera.
Slow grin. “Sure you won’t come by and catch my act?”
“No. Thanks. But no.” Mac averted her eyes before they could dip lower than his chin. No need to tease herself over what could not be. She preferred men who kept their pants on in public.
She slid out of her seat, Wookie in her arms. “You’ve been really helpful. Thanks again for the lift. And I am really sorry about your face.”
“No worries.”
He watched her walk away, unable to take his eyes off her. It wasn’t as though she was spectacularly gorgeous. Cute. Or that he thought she was swaying her hips in a particularly provocative way for his benefit. She was half bent over that smelly Pom, whispering things too low for him to understand. Clearly her attention was on the dog. No, he watched her because he had the feeling that much more was going on in the pint-sized package than he knew. Perhaps more than she realized. The deputy had been concerned.
Oliver snorted as he reached to put his car in gear. Deputy Got the Hots for Mac had radiated territorial vibes that even Jackeroo had picked up on.
“If I put my mind to it, it wouldn’t even be a contest.” He cast that opinion over his shoulder to Jack, who leaned in and licked his chin.
Not that he was interested in seducing Mac— Shit. He hadn’t gotten her full name.
He put the car back in park. He’d never come away with less than a name if he was interested in a woman. Not that he was interested in her, that way. But something was going on that made one side of her mouth pull down at the corner when she thought no one was watching her.
She was hiding something. It was there in the strain in her voice. By the absence of emotion, it was something big. He’d heard that lack of animation in a tone of voice many times, as people searched for a missing relative in the aftermath of an earthquake or a flood. Not yet willing to accept a horrible truth, they keep their voices quiet and their eyes open a little too wide in the hope of being wrong. Getting on with the horror of the searching, because if they stopped they’d be overwhelmed by their grief.
In response to that thought something heavy settled in his chest for a second time that morning.
Not his problem.
She kept saying that, as though he was a nuisance. Or she’d had way too much experience with people not being there for her when she most needed them. She could just be a giant pain in the ass—eye.
Oliver reached up to check his wound in the rearview mirror. But damn, he’d bled for her. He’d earned the right to at least her full name.
And that was the other thing. He knew for a fact that she’d ducked the question about recognizing the guys who’d busted up her car. One possible reason was that she was afraid of them. Another was that she was protecting them.
Oliver got out and opened the back door, dangling a leash.
Jackeroo, who made no move to exit the seat, watched him with lowered head.
“I know. You can smell a vet’s office a mile away. But this trip’s not for you. So buck up, mate. I’m the one going to visit the doc.”
He glanced across the street toward the clinic, whose sign included a Red Cross symbol, and then back at the vet’s entrance through which Mac and Wookie were disappearing. He should be able to keep an eye on the vet’s while he got his eye looked after. Mac might think it was over but his curiosity was up. His brothers might prefer a fight. He loved mysteries.