If She Dares. Tanya MichaelsЧитать онлайн книгу.
of retreating farther beneath its makeshift shelter, the dog scurried to her, as if seeking protection.
“It’s okay, buddy. I won’t let anything happen to you.” At the sound of her voice, the dog’s tail wagged, and Riley’s heart melted. She picked up the puppy and stood, glancing around. No one seemed to be calling for a lost dog. The nearest business on the street, a hair salon, had already closed for the day. Meanwhile, clouds that looked downright ominous were rolling in.
She tucked the shaking canine between her jacket and workout top, cradling it against her body heat. “Looks like you’re coming with me.”
What are you going to do with a puppy, genius? She didn’t know yet, but no way in hell was she leaving it here at a street intersection. She could always come back later and post flyers around the area.
Keeping up a soft, one-sided conversation meant to keep the puppy calm, she hastened to her car, glad for the remote control on her key ring that made it easy to unlock the door without a free hand. Once she had the passenger door open, she unzipped her gym bag and dumped her clothes on the floor. She needed the empty bag for a makeshift pet carrier. Hopefully, the mesh sides that would allow the puppy to see her would keep him from freaking out.
Him? Curious, she held up the puppy. “Ah, not a boy, then.” She scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Us girls have to stick together, right?” She set the gym bag on the seat and gently deposited her new friend inside. After zipping the bag, she put the seat belt through the bag’s straps to keep the puppy safely anchored in case Riley had to make any sudden stops.
By the time Riley got in on her side of the car, the puppy was whining and pawing at the side of the bag.
“Don’t worry.” Riley put her key in the ignition. “We’ll be home soon.” Home. Where no pets were allowed. Maybe I can change that if I get voted onto the tenant board.
Perhaps. But the election was a month away and the new board didn’t even take office until the first of January. No way she could sneak a puppy in and out of the building for regular walks from now until the new year without anyone noticing.
“Cute little thing like you probably has an owner, right?” The dog, though fretful, didn’t seem malnourished or filthy. “I just have to keep you out of the storm for tonight, then we’ll see about finding out if you belong to anyone.”
The puppy made another noise, but this one was more warble than whimper, as if she was just trying to keep up her end of the conversation.
As Riley backed out of her parking spot, she resisted the urge to think up names for the adorable canine. Stick to the plan. Put a roof over her head for tonight, then find her owner. Of course, even a single night was risky. If she got busted with a dog after the tenant board had specifically refused her pet request, there would be hell to pay.
An unexpected grin tugged at Riley’s lips. This was rebellious and utterly spontaneous, the most she’d felt like herself in months—not counting her teasing exchange with Jack in the elevator. You weren’t going to think about him anymore today.
Right. Good policy...even if it was proving difficult to maintain.
* * *
JACK LEANED BACK in the driver seat, glad to be home but so drained it took him a moment to summon the energy to climb out of his car. He’d worked several crime scenes today, but the last one had been emotionally grueling. The only witness to the shooting had been a neighborhood kid. Jack had tried to patiently coax details from the shaken child while mentally cursing the unfairness of life.
Childhood shouldn’t include murder. It should be all ice cream cones and...amusement parks or something. Granted, his own upbringing had included more criminal activity than family vacations. That kid today must have really got to him, because usually Jack was more of a realist. He knew he couldn’t magically make the world fair—but he could help take down the bastards who were messing it up for everyone else. Bolstered by the hope that his composites would generate hits and ultimately lead to stopping more bad guys, he opened his door.
A few spaces down, another car was pulling in, and he recognized it as the same blue compact Riley had driven away in on Saturday. His mood unexpectedly lightened. He should ask her if she’d taken any steps to challenging Mrs. Tyler’s Reign of Tenant Terror. He headed in Riley’s direction, ignoring the rain that pelted him. It had been raining all damn month—what were a few more drops at this point?
Before he reached her, Riley got out of her car, darted around to the passenger side and shrugged out of her jacket. Beneath it was an athletic top that momentarily stopped him in his tracks. He’d wondered previously if she wore dark clothes to avoid notice. The fitted racerback tank was black, with the exception of some turquoise piping, but with a silhouette like hers and beautifully sculpted shoulders, she might as well have been wearing neon. He drank in the sight of her.
Plenty of his art classes had included study of the human form—not to mention his ongoing, informal study of women in more intimate settings—so why did he feel poleaxed at the sight of Riley in an athletic top?
She was such a sexy combination of strength and delicate femininity. Strength she’s going to use to kick your ass if she catches you leering. He ducked his gaze, but she was too busy fidgeting with something to have noticed him yet. As he got closer, he realized she was positioning her jacket through the straps of a bag, draping it as if to protect the bag’s contents from the rain.
“Hey,” he greeted her. “Need help with something?”
She glanced up, looking momentarily startled by his presence, then breaking into a wide grin. “Nah, I think I got this. But—”
“Miss Kendrick!” Anna Tyler emerged from the building’s exit. Her shrill voice carried across the lot, only partially obscured by the whipping wind. She stopped to wrestle with an ugly paisley umbrella that was blown inside out.
Riley cursed under her breath. “What was she doing, lying in wait for my return?” She squirmed suddenly, gripping the bag she carried over her shoulder. “Turns out, I do need your help. Can you sneak this inside for me? I’ll be upstairs to get her as soon as possible.”
“Her?” Jack’s eyebrows skyrocketed.
She lifted the edge of the carefully arranged coat so he could peek beneath it. A canine muzzle pressed against the side of the bag, and he recoiled.
“You have a dog in there!” His voice was louder than he’d intended.
“Shh.” Riley gave him a stern look. “Lesson one about illicit smuggling, don’t announce it to the entire county.” She slid the straps off her shoulder and tried to get him to take the bag. “I know it’s kind of crappy to ask you to violate apartment policy on my behalf, especially since you just moved in, but—” She cast a frantic look over his shoulder at the approaching Mrs. Tyler. “Please? I double-dog dare you. Pun intended.”
He lowered his gaze to the bag and its unwanted cargo. The double part better not be literal; two dogs would be even worse than one.
Still, he took the bag. Regardless of his past history with dogs, he wasn’t strong enough to refuse a beautiful woman in spandex. “See you upstairs.” Grabbing the jumble of coat and mesh and dog, he went around the front of Riley’s car to the next row so his path wouldn’t directly cross Mrs. Tyler’s.
He kept the bag pressed against his side to keep from jostling the dog with his brisk stride. On the plus side, it had to be a tiny dog to fit inside Riley’s bag. You are a grown man. You are not afraid of something that’s smaller than the average teddy bear. The mutt his mom’s ex-boyfriend used to bring over had been the size of a coffee table. Looking back, Jack realized the dog’s vicious disposition was probably in response to its owner treating it the same way the worthless SOB had treated Jack’s mother. When it came to losers, Cyndi Reed sure knew how to pick ’em.
Jack took the stairs two at a time. The dog was mostly quiet but yelped when Jack shut the