Trouble

It’s doing fucked up things to me.



I risk a glance and her wide, glistening, bright blue eyes are blinking back at me. Long lashes bat against her cheekbones.



Jesus, she’s beautiful.



She licks her lips and presses them together. My eyes fall to them.



I want to kiss them.



Her.



Everywhere.



Run my tongue over every inch of her silky soft skin.



I bet she tastes like vanilla. Tastes exactly like she smells.



I want to spread her legs and bury my head between her thighs. Lick her until she screams my name. Then push my cock deep inside and fuck her until we both lose our goddamn minds from the pleasure.



I might not have test driven her yet, but I just know that sex with Mia Monroe would be that good. I have a sense for these things.



Yes, I know it’s totally inappropriate for me to want this at this exact moment, but people look for comfort in difficult situations, right?



And Dozer would understand. That dog is as horny as I am. He’s just about dry humped every piece of furniture we own. I once caught him going at it with the wooden table in the garden. Poor bastard was so desperate to get off that he risked splinters. I really should get him laid.



Holy shit. Dozer’s a virgin.



Now that’s just not right.



I swear to God right here and now – get Dozer through this and I promise the first thing I’ll do is hook him up with the hottest dog I can find. Not that I know anything about hot dogs … yeah, I caught that, I’m as funny as I am good-looking. But I think a fancy dog like a poodle or something would work for Dozer.



“So, Jordan…” I seriously dig the way she says my name. “Dozer is an unusual name for a dog. Where did that come from? He sleep a lot?” Her lips work on a smile, and my dick pulses in response.



She’s after a subject change, and I can go with that. I let out a laugh and look away before I do something stupid like pull a Dozer and try to dry hump her leg.



“Yeah, he sleeps tons, but that’s not where it came from. Dozer was a stray. Found him at our door one night when he was a puppy. He was starving, so we took him in and fed him. We put out fliers, but no one claimed him, so we kept him. In the first week he stayed with us, he broke a shit load of stuff—ornaments, plates, glasses, even a window.”



I laugh again, remembering how pissed my dad was when Dozer jumped head first at the living room window trying to get at a bird on the porch. Shattered the window.



“Basically, Dozer broke everything he touched, and my dad said he was like a bulldozer taking down everything in his path, and it just kinda stuck. Ended up being shortened to Dozer, because he can be a little dozy at times.” I smile, then I glance in the direction of the hall. “I’ve just always thought of him as invincible, you know.”



“He’s going to be fine, Jordan. It’s just a broken leg—well, not just a broken leg, because broken legs are incredibly painful, I just meant—”



Her face has gone red. She’s flustered. Cute.



“I know what you meant.” I smile.



A small smile touches her lips. “Aside from his leg, I really don’t think there is anything else to worry about.” She touches my arm with her fingers. It’s a gentle touch, almost imperceptible. But even still, my blood turns to molten fucking lava at the contact.



She withdraws her hand. A look of surprise on her face.



You’re surprised, sweetheart? Well, you’re not the only one.



With the hot lava flooding straight to the main man, I talk to distract myself from my impending boner. “So you’re a doctor,” I say, just remembering that. How the fuck did I forget that?



Hell, she’s a living, breathing wet dream.



“Training to be,” she says quietly.



“Where?”



She slides me a glance. “Harvard.”



Harvard. She’s beautiful and incredibly smart.



There’s isn’t anything that’s less than perfect about her. Except for the douchehole of an ex.



“Ivy League – nice.” I nod, impressed.



She shrugs her shoulders in response and looks to the floor, kicking her sneakers together.



So, she’s from Boston. Interesting. I don’t remember seeing that on the form she filled out last night, but then I was too busy eye-fucking her to notice where she was from.



What’s she doing way out here then? I’d say vacation, but women rarely vacation alone, and they always take pre-planned trips. Turning up at Golden Oaks like she did … this was an unplanned trip. And I’m guessing it had something to do with the asshole who marred that perfect face.



“So, are you originally from Boston?”



I see her hesitation. Her whole body has stiffened again.



“Yes,” she says on a breath. “Lived there my whole life.”



“What you doing way out here in Colorado?”



She shifts in her seat, tilting her body away from me. “I’m trying to, um…” She clears her throat. “I’m here to find my mother.”



Didn’t expect that.



“You adopted?”



Did I mention I have no filter?



She shakes her head. “No, my father—I lived with my father. My mother left when I was a baby.”



“Shit,” I say. “So your dad … he’s okay about you been out here alone searching for your mom?” And why hasn’t he kicked the cocksucker’s ass who hurt her?



“My father is dead.”



Shit. Guess that answers my questions. But what surprises me is the lack of emotion in her voice about her dad being dead.



Losing my mom was horrendous—beyond horrendous. I adored my mom. If I lost my dad … well, my world would implode.



“Sorry to hear that.” It’s a crap thing to say, but really what else is there to say.



“Thank you.” Emotionless again. Weird.



I twist in my seat to her. “So your mom lives here?”



She brushes her golden hair from her eyes. “Apparently so. I have an address, but it was from over twenty years ago. Whether she still lives there or not, I’m not sure.”



I nod in agreement. “What’s your mom’s name? I’ve lived here my whole life. If she’s still here, I might know her. If not, my dad will. He used to be a cop. He knows everyone.”



She sucks her top lip into her mouth. An image of me doing exactly the same plays a scene in my head.



“Anna Monroe. Well, that was her married name. I don’t know her maiden name.”



I rake through my brain for an Anna. The only person I can think of is Annie Parker, and she’s only a few years older than me. Has a mouth like a vacuum cleaner. Good memories.



“Sorry.” I shake my head.



“It’s okay.” Her smile is sad.



“Hey, how about I look up the address on my phone? See if she still lives there?”



“Would you? I never thought to do that. Thank you.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a ratty piece of paper, then hands it to me.



I get my cell from my pocket and type the address and the name Anna Monroe into the search engine.



What comes up makes my heart drop for Mia. I almost don’t want to tell her.



“Anything?” God, she sounds so hopeful.



I glance up at her. “The address you have for your mom is now home to a grocery store.”



“Oh.”



Jesus, I can literally feel her disappointment like it’s my own.



My chest feels tight again. Seriously, what the fuck is that? I rub at my sternum with my fingers.



“The houses must have been leveled for the store to be built,” I say. “I’m sorry.”



“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” She takes the piece of paper from me and holds it in her hand.



She smiles, but it’s forced.



She looks so lost. So sad. It’s painful to see.



“I can help you find your mom, if you want?”



What the fuck! Have I lost my mind?



I don’t spend time with girls outside the bedroom. Apart from Beth, and that’s only because she plays for the same team as I do.



If I spend time with Mia, I know what will happen. And I can’t get balls deep with her.



Yes, I might have spent the last five minutes imagining her flat on her back, and me pounding into her like a jackhammer, but I’m not a complete bastard.



I may not know the full story, but it’s clear this girl has been through the wringer with the asshole who gave her the black eye, and now she’s searching for her mother. The mother who abandoned her when she was a baby.



Mia might be the hottest girl I have ever seen … okay, she is the hottest girl I have ever seen in life, and the sweetest. And I’m so horny for her that my dick actually hurts. It motherfucking hurts.



But the girl’s got enough to deal with.



And me spending an invariable amount of time around a hot girl that I cannot put my dick inside … it’s just not possible.



I might as well be in prison.



Or hell.



That’s it, I’m in hell.



This is payback for the chick I banged who was married.



Okay, I lied before. I totally knew she was married when I tapped that.



“Would you?” She sounds hopeful. “I mean, I wouldn’t know where to start, and you know the people in this town, so you’d know who to speak to.”



“Sure I will.” That’s it. Keep talking dickhead. Keep digging that hole deeper. “Like I said, I owe you for what you did for Dozer.”



“You don’t owe me anything, Jordan. I wanted to help you.”



She said my name again. I’m toast.



“And I want to help you.”



And I want to help you. Jesus, I’m such a lame ass pussy.



It’s official. I’ve lost my fucking mind.



Then she smiles. It’s wide and bright and dazzling, and like a sucker punch to the chest. And ball sack.



My life has just got seriously hard.



Kind of like the permanent state of my cock while around Mia Monroe.



Chapter Eight



Mia



I can’t believe what has just happened.



I just admitted to Jordan—a guy who I barely know—that Forbes hit me. And I also told him about my mother. The mother who abandoned me. The mother who I drove across seven states to try and find and she doesn’t even live at the address I have anymore.



I’m so stupid.



Why didn’t I check this before I drove across the country in a lame attempt to find her?



But what was I going to do? Go back to my apartment and make threesome with Forbes?



I don’t think so.



Jordan must think I’m a real mess. And an idiot.



He’d be right on both counts.



I think it’s best if I just get out of here. I’ll go back to the hotel, grab my things and go … where?



I’ll just find another hotel, and then I can figure out my next move.



I just hope he doesn’t tell anyone what he already knows about Forbes hitting me. Why would he? He doesn’t exactly seem like the gossipy type. But then he did say his dad used to be a cop. What if…?



No, I would have to report it myself, and I don’t really think the local police force are going to be concerned with a stranger in town who happens to have a black eye.