I wanted nothing to do with pets. Dogs mostly. How the hell Grace Patterson talked me into keeping this tiny mutt for almost five hours was beyond me. It was because she was Thatcher’s little sister. Otherwise I would’ve told her to hit the road and take her ugly mutt with her. Instead, I bit my tongue and agreed to keep it long enough for her to figure out what she was going to do with it.

I told myself it had nothing to do with the way she sassily strutted along the sidewalk most days with her book bag slung over her shoulder walking to and from the school. Or that it had nothing to do with the fact that only a month ago, I learned she read motorcycle club romance books. Ride Me was the book I’d seen in her bag. A freaking motorcycle club romance. Out of all people, I couldn't believe she read them. The little sister that always wanted to tag along. Little Miss Pigtails.

Or now, Grace Patterson.

All grown up.

Fuck.

I’ve known Thatch for almost ten years. I used to work for his dad as a welder. Gracie had been a young teen when I started and could only be described as that pesky little sister of my best friend. She would linger around us, reminding us about following the rules. Thatcher, Mom said not to do that or Dad said to do it the other way. I don't know when she grew out of her pigtails – two matching ribbons, her blonde hair always parted down the middle and tied up. Anyhow, I’d never paid much attention to her as she’d gotten older, only recently, when she’d come back to Lone Star from college.

I’d seen her walking to school one morning and she was like a fresh, crisp breath of air. She hadn’t seen me watching her. In a drab, gray town, she was a bright yellow flower standing out. Her long blonde hair fluttered behind her as she walked with purpose toward her job at the elementary school. She was tall – almost as tall as me – enough that we were basically at eyelevel with one another. Not only were she and I cut from different cloths, we lived in completely different universes. One where her world was new and shiny, sunny and cloud-free, perfect and whole. Mine was fucking gray, incomplete and cloudy even on a good day.

Even though she was exhilarating and intriguing to me now, she was untouchable. Not because of how different we were, although that played a part, but as my best friend’s little sister – she was completely off limits. Thatcher would have my balls if he knew I’d just fucked Tiffany Dee hard and fast from behind and yet it was his prissy sister’s flowing blonde hair I’d imagined flying around that managed to make me come.

My doorbell rang and I ignored the slight hum of tension in my veins as I went to answer. It was Grace. She was here for the mutt. I smirked at the sight of her as I opened the door.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“Ha ha. Speaking of killing…is my dog still alive?”

“Barely. There were a few times her yappy-assed barking had me considering finishing her off.”

She gasped, “You wouldn’t do that…Would you?”

I laughed again but didn’t answer her. Her blue eyes flamed bright against her light skin as she stood with her hand on her hip. Oh, man, definitely fire. Flames. Pure sass. Why hadn’t some preppy-boy school teacher scooped her up by now?

“Can I come in or are you going to make me walk around to the back?”

I held the door open and let her pass. She smelled sweet, sugary, and I backed up closer into the door for fear I’d reach for her. Even as my brain registered there wasn’t a fat chance in hell she’d even let me touch her.

“How was your dad’s?” I asked.

“Fine. The usual. I didn’t see them.”

“I thought they were having a party. How could you not see them?”

“Are you kidding? I might as well be a guest inside their home instead of their daughter. That’s how close we are. Actually, guests get treated better than me. Unless they want something. Like tonight. Then they butter me up and make themselves scarce when I'm around. So, back to your question: my dad’s house was fine. I decorated their dining hall, talked to Mabel and left. What did you do?”

Going for shock, cause I didn’t think she gave a damn what I did with my time and was only asking out of mere formality, I told her the truth. “I got laid.”

I could feel the heat from her cheeks as a fine shade of red flooded her face all the way to her neck, disappearing beneath the awful colored shirt she was wearing—that did nothing to showcase her tits. I smirked as she opened her mouth and then closed it. I tried not to grin at having jolted her.

“I know. I heard you.” She held her chin up and folded her arms beneath her chest.

“How in the hell did you hear me?”

“I was in your backyard. I thought you were gone,” she whispered just as I stepped toward her. Holy shit. So much for me shocking her. Here I’d been imagining her while I fucked Tiff and she was only a mere wall away?

“You said you would be back at ten. I came and fed the puppy. You could imagine my shock and horror when I heard what I did.”

“I bet you ran away as fast as you could.”

Her eyes flashed and her pupils enlarged, “No. I didn’t. Do you get off on all that exaggerated moaning? I mean, come on, it’s just a show.”

Holy shit again. She’d overheard alright. “It wasn’t exaggerated. That’s just how good I am.”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes at me and tried to back away. I grabbed onto her arm, not letting her get away.

“How long did you listen?”

“Fourteen minutes. Were you on Viagra?”

I laughed, “What?”

“Seriously, who lasts that long?”

Little Gracie listened to me fuck for almost fifteen minutes. She had to be wet and my dick hardened because of this thought and unlike before, I wasn’t so sure telling her that would shock her. Not anymore anyway. Had Grace never had a real man to fuck her longer than three minutes?

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Gracie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call me Maverick.”

“I’m right. It was Viagra.” She rolled her eyes at me and suddenly I was having this conversation.

I stepped so close to her, that her tits were pressed against my chest and I could feel her body rise and fall with each breath she took. I could almost swear she was quivering.

“I don’t need Viagra. I can control myself long enough to get a woman off. Jesus, Grace, I'm not nineteen. Why is it even affecting you? Do you want to be that willing female? Do you want me to show you what it’s like to be with a real man and not some punk guy who can’t fuck you long enough for you to come? Or at the very least, not more than once.”

“And have sloppy seconds? Uh, no. No thanks.”

Even though I was wanting a rise out of her, I wasn’t expecting the flash of desire in her eyes. Her pupils dilated. Shit. Was she a hellcat underneath her cool exterior?

“It doesn't bother you that I was just having sex?”

She gave her typical Ice Queen stare and damn if I couldn't help myself, thinking what I could say or do to break that facade of hers. That damn mutt barking brought me out of the showdown and I backed away from Grace, reminding myself that even if I thought I just saw desire in her eyes, that her older brother would have my nuts on a chopping block if I so much as winked at her. Shit, he’d probably kick them now if he knew I’d just extended an invitation to get her off.

“Your mutt,” I told her.

“Yeah, about that,” she said, as if I hadn’t offered to fuck. “I was hoping that she could stay here. Please.”

“What? No fucking way, Grace. Uh-uh.”

“Please. It will only be for a little while. Until I either find her owner or figure out a way to keep her.”

“I’m not taking care of her.”

“You don’t have to,” she grabbed a hold of my arm, her eyes pleading with mine. “I’ll take care of her while she’s here.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her because this, I wanted to hear. “How?”

“I’ll come over and feed her and let her out to go to the bathroom. That kind of stuff.”

“No. I don’t like pets. I don’t like that damn dog. It’s not going to work. I work almost every day. So do you, in case you forgot.”

“School’s almost out. In two weeks, it will be over. Please Maverick,” she begged.

Her voice was a combination of panic and urgency. Her eyes were wide and scared. Fuck.

My control was already slipping because she looked so damn sweet and I had this odd sense to want to do what I could to protect her and her mutt.

“Why can’t you ask Thatcher?”

“Because I live closer to you than him. I could walk over here every day with no problem. I could let her outside and feed her on my way to school and then back. I’ll spend the time to see if she’s potty-trained. Tell me this can work.”

“I don’t want the damn mutt in my house.”

“It can’t stay outside all alone. It’s a people dog. She likes company. I’ll get her a crate to sleep in at night.”

“You think you’re going to come over any time you want?” She bit her lip and the movement had me momentarily distracted. But the look in her eyes…hell, she was a confident little thing. She did think she could come over any time she wanted.

“I was hoping. At least until I can come up with some kind of plan. Who knows, maybe someone will claim her by then. I’ll put up little posters around town and see if anyone comes forward. If so, there won’t be an issue. If not, then I’ll have to figure something else out.”

Against my better judgement, I found myself agreeing. Only because I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her cute ass. Even if it were just to look. “Fine. I’ll give you a key that way you can come and go as you please. One week from this moment, is all the time you got, Princess.”

I wasn’t prepared for the way she bounded into my chest, her arms going tight around my neck – it was a mutt – how could she be so excited? Her hair fanned across my cheek as she pressed her curvy body into mine. The sugary smell from earlier filled my nostrils and it was all I could do to wrap my arms around her waist and hug her back.

Screw it. This was a one-time thing, after all.

She was sweet and warm. She fit perfectly into my grip. I hadn't been this close to a woman in almost fifteen years – not a broad like Tiffany Dee. A woman. One who cared about manicures and pedicures and one who sat properly, who never went out in public without looking her best. A woman unlike all those broads up at the bar. Fifteen years. Not since Candi. She shifted in closer and I couldn’t dream up the way her body felt right, how she felt right. I had to remind myself she was Thatcher’s little sister. It was more difficult than it should have been. Especially when she turned her head and the warm, sugary air of her breath caressed my neck, “You won’t regret this, Maverick.”

I let go of her and turned to the back door ignoring the feeling in my chest and the voice whispering to me that somehow I would regret this. “Let’s bring your mutt inside.”

The dog bounded into the house, by-passing me completely like she knew what was good for her and halted at Grace’s feet where she put her front paws up on Grace’s legs, causing Grace to bend down and pick her up.

“What about tonight?” she asked. “I don’t have a crate for her yet.”

“Looks like she’s going home with you then.”

“I can’t. The apartment complex says no pets. Even if it’s just for one night.”

“Can’t help you.”

“She can sleep with you-”

“Fuck no. That’s not happening, Grace. Ever.” She flinched at my attitude and I couldn’t have cared less. I wasn’t having the dog sleep with me. Did she not hear me when I said I didn't like pets?

“What am I going to do?”

“Not my problem.”

She bowed her head in defeat. I spared a glance at the topic at hand. The mutt did look…neglected. Its coat was dirty, gray like it’d taken a page from my book and the fur around its ears had visible matting. As I watched Grace nuzzle the dirty mutt, I decided that finding Grace was the best damn thing that had ever happened to that dog. Temporary or otherwise. She was already in love with the thing. No judgement, no selfish spiel about it cramping her style – just pure unconditional love.

Something I knew zero about.

“What are we going to do with you, Little Bo Peep?”

“Wait – Little Bo Peep? That’s ridiculous. Where’d you come up with that?”

“When I was listening to you fuck. It’s fitting to me. Since Peeping Tom sounds like a name made for a boy more than it does for a girl. I don't even know what it’s called when you listen to someone have sex. It's not exactly a Peeping Tom but that was all I could come up with on short notice.”

She was certifiable. The shock of knowing she’d listened to me fucking another woman still hadn’t worn off. Now she was naming the mutt after the incident – like listening to people getting down and dirty was an everyday occurrence.

“How about Booty?”

“Booty? As in booty call? No thank you.”

“Suit yourself. Sounds a lot better than Little Bo Peep.”

“Whatever. I’ll think of something else. In the meantime, I’m running out of options and you’re no help.”

“You better figure something out. Isn’t it past your bed time?”

“It is. I can’t leave her outside all night. I know you’re Thatcher’s friend, but aren’t you mine, too? By extension, at least.”

No. I wasn’t her friend. Crossing that line didn’t seem like a good idea. Not where Grace was concerned. She was the type who embraced life, barged into your world and made it beautiful and good, complete with sugar cookie smells. She probably took great pride in baking the damn things, too. I wasn’t into that. Not her friend, not her enemy. I was…her older brother’s best friend. A family acquaintance. I was a dick when it suited me and Grace didn’t deserve any of that bullshit. Aside from that, I was a hundred percent positive she wouldn't want any of my bullshit. She was all country club and debutants, and we all knew I was the Lazy Dogs Saloon.

Aside from all of that though, something inside me wanted to push her. I wanted to see how far she was willing to go. And at what point she would chicken out.

Tiffany Dee, I could handle.

Grace Patterson, I could not.

Would not.

“Stay the night,” I shrugged. I said it only to get a rise out of her cause so far, I wasn’t having much luck. Some ill-conceived notion that I could push her proper buttons and shock her. Daring her too, in a way—I wanted a reaction from her.

“Thank you. That’s what I’m going to have to do,” she said.

Fuck.

“I wasn’t serious.”

“It’s the only plausible idea. I’ll just sleep here on your couch with her. I’ll be gone before you even wake up in the morning.”

“Grace. You can’t stay here. First of all, if Thatcher found out, he’d be annoyed at you and royally pissed at me. Second of all, it was a joke. I wasn’t serious.”

“Can she sleep in your bed tonight?” she asked, still cradling the topic of conversation in her arms. I was mildly envious that the mutt got to feel those tits. The damn thing even blinked an eye open at me like it was tormenting me. It knew. I grunted in frustration.

“Hell no.”

“And I can’t take her to my apartment. I have no choice. I’ll sleep on the couch. You won’t even know we’re here.”

That wasn’t true. Three feet of nothing was between us and my body was tuned to her like a bead on a rod. I could feel her. Practically taste her. Her smell enveloped me like smoke. I would lay awake all night with the knowledge that she was out here.

“It’s not a good idea,” I said. Even though I knew my resolve was softening. The little mutt snuggled into her arms, fast asleep. It was like Grace lacked the ability to know when I was being sarcastic – something that everyone usually was quick to notice. Except her.

“Thatcher doesn’t even have to know. You and I know it’s harmless and what Thatcher doesn’t know, won’t hurt him. I won’t tell. Will you?”

Hmmm, harmless? For her, maybe. I pulled my do-rag off my head in frustration and fanned my short hair out of habit with my other hand. “I’m good at keeping secrets. Your brother is the closest friend I have in Lone Star next to Ryan. He would kill me if he knew I let you spend the night. Even if this has nothing to do with sex, Thatch would think it did.”

“What am I going to do then?” Her eyes glassed over with unshed tears and my stomach hollowed out as if I’d just gotten the wind kicked out of me. Having a drug-addict mother wouldn’t break me but watching a woman as sweet as Grace cry, would.

Sucker.

“Fine. Fine. You win.” She came up like she was going to hug me again and I put my hand out to stop her, shaking my head. I couldn’t go through another bout of feeling her slender body against mine. “This better never get out, Grace.”

“It won’t. I won’t tell anyone I stayed here.”

“And if that mutt pisses in here, it won’t be staying after tonight. Neither will you.” I made that as clear as I could. This situation was against my better judgement. Those tears though. Even though it was sadness, it was part of her beautiful and perfect world already trying to grab me with its tentacles, roping me in to start giving a shit.

“She won’t. She’ll behave. I have a feeling she’s already potty-trained. Do you have a blanket I can use?”

I growled as I retreated to my room in search of a blanket and pillow. The woman was going to be the death of me. I’d never had to deal with Grace on a one-on-one basis—I didn’t realize how persuasive she was. It wasn’t like batting her eyes “fuck-me” persuasive, it was her youthful, naïve looks and the fact that she was so invested in this mutt situation that I couldn’t say no to her. It was her pure innocence.

I grabbed her bedding, trying to ignore her sweet talk to the dog. Yes, baby, you’re so sweet. You get to sleep with me tonight. Yes, he’s the big bad wolf and I'm going to protect you. Yes, baby, I love you. Ha. Big bad wolf. Yup. That was me to a T. And she was Little Red Riding Hood.

I would eat her up whole.

I would enjoy it, too.

“Here.” I handed her the thin blanket, cotton sheet and a pillow from my bed. “Now, go to bed.”

I was suddenly irritated, wishing like hell I could pull out the hog and take it for a ride. Devil’s Pass. Red Willow Canyon. There was nothing better than having the wind whip my face as I left the world behind. As long as I could be anywhere else but here with Grace Patterson and her sweet talk. Her bright shiny days.

I turned to leave but she stopped me. “You don't really have to go to sleep right now, do you?”

I glanced at her hand on my arm and shrugged it off. “You said it was past your bedtime.”

“It is. But I was hoping I could give her a quick bath.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No. I don't suppose you have any dog shampoo, do you?”

The look on my face clued her in.

“Okay. Well, I think it would be okay to use a bar of soap. Just for tonight. We could give her a quick scrub down.”

“There is no ‘we’ in any of this.”

She tilted her head to the side, her doe-eyes pleading. “I need some help, Maverick. For one night. Please. Can you stop being so difficult? What is it with you anyway? It's a dog, for crying out loud. You act like she’s a work of the Devil.”

My mouth twitched up, “A work of the Devil I can handle. This, this is something else entirely.” Something I wanted no part in. What was it with her? She didn't even know the mutt and she was already coddling it like a fucking baby. For all she knew the damn thing had enough fleas to hurt us both.

Leaving her again, I grabbed a bar of soap out of the bathroom, as well as a towel, knowing if I didn’t that would be the next thing out of her mouth. “Here. Nothing else, you got me?”

She rolled her eyes at me, brushing my warning off completely. “I might need a pair of scissors to cut the matted hair away from her ears.” As if I hadn't said a thing.

“No. Take it to the groomers tomorrow. You’re pushing my buttons, Gracie.”

She came toe to toe with me. The mutt still sleeping, sandwiched between us, her breasts lightly grazed my shirt. “You’re pushing my buttons, Maverick Carter. This dog needs help. Love. Why are you making it difficult for me to give her that? I know somewhere in there,” she placed her palm on my chest directly over my heart, “you have a heart. Your secret will be safe with me.”

Oh, the girl’s got balls. Her blue eyes didn't so much as flicker as she said this to me. Honesty. It was something I doubted in most people aside from my inner circle of friends. Which, admittedly wasn't very big because of this reason. Honesty required loyalty and that was far and few between these days. But looking into Thatcher’s little—grown—sister’s eyes, I saw it clear as day. Unwavering honesty and innocence. Confidence, too. The world had yet to pull her in and drag her through the mud straight into the depths of hell.

For this reason, I stepped back and the air cooled my chest where her hand had been. I found some scissors and handed them to her without saying another word.

She eyed me warily as if she wasn't sure what to do. She drug her teeth along her bottom lip, assessing me, scrutinizing me. Something in her eyes flickered as she watched me. I wanted to drag my teeth along that bottom lip. Taste that confidence and innocence of hers across my tongue.

“What? I'm not one of your students. Quit looking at me like I need your help.”

“Did I say anything about you needing my help?” she said.

“What then? What are looking at me that way for?”

“I never noticed how unhelpful you are,” she said matter of factly.

“I got you what you asked for.”

“Begrudgingly.”

“Begrudgingly? Who talks like that? And anyway, I never noticed how pushy you are,” I said

“I'm not pushy. I'm simply trying to help a poor, lost animal that needs me.” She stroked the mutt along his head. His ears twitched up as if it were deciding to wake up. I rubbed my eyes. This was insane. How had she literally fallen at my feet tonight? What had I done to deserve this?

In Lone Star, I’d mostly kept to myself – I was a pro at that. I worked and I enjoyed my bachelorhood. I didn't want pets – dogs or otherwise, yet I’d managed to be blessed with not only a puppy, but a woman who had no clue that I really was the big bad wolf and would eat her up like she was candy on a stick, all in one night. A woman, who, so far, couldn't identify sarcasm if it bit her on her ass and one who apparently didn't get the memo that I liked to be alone. Except to fuck. Oh, yeah, and add that to the list. Naïve. Innocent. And yet unperturbed by listening to me have sex.

How’d I get so lucky?

“Shut the lights off when you’re done,” I said.

I left Grace and her mutt alone in my kitchen and went to my room. All over again I listened to her sweet talk to the damn dog. You’re so sweet, baby. Who would let you go? I can do this all by myself. We don't need him, do we? I don’t know why he pretends he’s so tough. It's okay, I’ll take care of you. You’ll be a good baby, won't you? You’re going to sleep with me on his couch, aren't you? After we get you all nice and pretty. The water ran for some time as I envisioned her washing the dog in my kitchen sink.

Finally, silence. My mind was restless thinking about Grace sleeping under my sheet on my couch with my pillow. The angel who listened as I fucked another female. Knowing I could pull another wad out of me—as if Tiffany hadn’t accomplished that—I wasn't about to jerk off as Grace lay in the other room. I wasn't so sure what she would do if she heard me. I couldn’t explain that to Thatcher.

I tossed and turned the entire night, with her sleeping under my roof. When daylight broke through the corners of my shades, something hit me. A feeling I hadn't felt in such a long time, I almost wasn't sure what it was even though I let it eat at me all night.

I was jealous.

Jealous of that fucking mutt that got to cuddle with Gracie all night long.

I didn't even bother to keep quiet as I strolled out of my room in the morning. The first thing I noticed of course, was her. One arm flung over her face in sleep. One bare-assed, mile long leg bent up resting along the back of the couch. The mutt was nestled in between her legs and it popped its head up as soon as I walked past. Grace’s shoulder was mostly bare—she must have worn a tank top beneath her shirt last night. A shirt that was in a heap on the floor next to her, along with her phone and shoes.

Hell.

Good thing she wasn't staying here again.

I turned from the sight of her and headed into my kitchen to make some coffee. I caught myself taking the grounds and the filter quietly out of the cupboards, filling the pot as quickly and quietly as I could before hitting the power button. I leaned against the counter and waited for the coffee to brew. Thankfully, I couldn't see the living room from where I stood. I didn't need to gawk over her sleeping form.

A wall separated the kitchen from the living room. If I were to sit at my kitchen table, I'd be able to see her. I’d wait for the coffee and head out to the garage. I’d been working on my dad’s old Indian and in the near future, she was going to be finished.

“Is there enough for me?”

I tensed, not turning right away as I filled my mug. The sliding glass door slid open, more of her come on baby mutterings, and the door slid shut.

“Help yourself.” As I turned to face her, I sucked in a breath.

She’d yet to put her top back on, only wearing a skin-tight cotton tank top that clung to her chest, leaving nothing to the imagination. Thankfully she still had her skirt on from the night before, slightly wrinkled and twisted, hugging her hourglass shape, but none of it detracted from her beauty. The corner of her mouth turned up, causing the dark brown freckle near her top lip to rise, too. I guessed I was one of few people that had seen her like this: last night’s make-up still on, day old clothes and sleep-tousled hair that was no longer board straight, not to mention all the skin showing along her shoulders and chest, something I hadn’t realized she hid so well until now.

“I knew you wouldn't be a gentleman about it.”

Tilting my head at her statement, I watched her as she strolled into my kitchen like she owned the place and opened the right cupboard next to my head and withdrew a mug and poured herself coffee.

“That was your first mistake. I'm not a gentleman. Even still, what are you referring to? The coffee?”

“Ha. That, too.” She took a sip of her coffee and folded her arms across her chest, shielding any further glances from me.

“Ah. You’re embarrassed about your chest? Or upset that I'm looking? Should’ve put your top on.”

“I'm not embarrassed by them, big and inconvenient as they are. I didn't know you were in here until I let her outside. It's still slightly dark out.”

“Well, now you know.” I slid a glance down again, not sorry in the least at undressing her mentally. “How could I not look?”

Thin straps dug into her shoulders, hefting up her goods for me to look. I was serious. If she wasn’t sure I was up, she should have covered herself.

“Whatever. I didn't ask for these. I know they’re big and obnoxious-”

“They’re perfect,” I admitted.