Easy Ride. Suzanne RubyЧитать онлайн книгу.
Period. I shouldn’t even have to say it.”
“First time for everything, my friend. If you didn’t hump her, why did you ask me to refund her money?”
“I like her. She’s attractive. We made out and I enjoyed the hell out of it. What can I say?”
“Just don’t do what the others are doing. Eventually, one of these wounded lovelies is going to turn psycho and give us away, and then we’ll be in some deep shit.”
Adam continued doing reps. All he could think was how he’d love to break a rule or two with Kirby. But it sure as hell wasn’t going to happen at the club.
“Does Lydia know?” Adam asked.
“I suspect our madam chooses not to know. But have no fear. Even if we get busted, you’re clean. Or so you say.”
Although true, it did nothing to tame the uneasy feeling. Last thing he needed was another controversy. Not if he wanted to land the gig in Florida. They needed an elite trainer. He needed a new life. Seemed like the perfect fit. It had been a year since he’d been appreciated for what he did best: train riders and horses at the most prestigious grounds in the greater Houston Area.
Wild Indigo Equestrian Center seemed to be the only potential employer left in the world who either didn’t know about his previous legal problems, or didn’t care. They certainly didn’t need to know his current employment situation, or the newest dilemma with the saddles. Either one of those would knock him out of the running.
He grabbed his gym bag from the floor, shrugged off his sweaty T-shirt and donned a fresh one. Six hours before he had to be back at work. Enough time to make a dent in the informal written deposition he’d promised Bernard.
The real question was, why would his ex-boss levy those charges so long after Adam had left? Why would it even be a case, because there was no way the man could have proof? Proof didn’t exist. None of it made sense.
Adam pulled his cell phone from his bag. One voice message, and from a number he didn’t recognize. Maybe it was Kirby. Maybe she got a flat tire after all.
He held the phone to his ear, and as far away from Fabian as possible.
“This is Methodist Hospital. We’re trying to locate Adam Drake, next of kin for Henry Drake. Please give us a call at...”
The hot ringing in his head made it impossible to hear the number.
Next of kin? Isn’t that the kind of thing people said when someone was deceased, or on their death bed? Besides, Adam was the man’s only kin.
A sudden sheen of cold sweat traversed the length of his neck and back. He swallowed hard in an attempt to jump-start his breathing. Instead of calling the hospital, he sprinted out of Six-Pax, jumped into his Jeep without bothering to buckle the seat belt and tore out of the parking lot.
He had zero intention of driving the speed limit. Didn’t care how many tickets he got along the way.
Time to start breaking some rules.
* * *
KIRBY POSITIONED HERSELF on one side of the Dumpster while Reese tiptoed around to the other.
The air reeked of urine and spoiled milk and miscellaneous unidentifiable odors. She inhaled through her mouth, but pure nastiness coated her throat. The thick, noxious mix made her feel as if she were swallowing toxic sludge. But it was all worth it as soon as the scared puppy peeked around the side. In fact, there was no other place Kirby would rather be.
Except perhaps one other place. On the sofa at The Deep, being massaged and kissed and desired by the most desirable man she’d ever met. And being looked at by those baby blue eyes.
The memory battled for her focus, but dreamy eyes of a different kind were sizing her up.
“Looks like a Maltese-terrier mix,” she said.
The puppy growled as if in disagreement.
“Hard to tell. Baby needs a bath. At least his vocal cords are healthy,” Reese said.
They anchored the edges of a large net at either corner of a fence without managing to spook the puppy, and draped the rest of it over the large metal contraption.
“Area secure,” Kirby said, although she knew all too well the puppy could finagle its way out of the trap easily enough.
Kirby pulled the net over her head, effectively sealing her inside the entrapment zone. She opened the paper sack, reached in and tore off a piece of the hamburger and bun. Then she held it out while Reese snuck underneath from the other side, rescue leash in hand.
The puppy crouched and took a few tentative steps forward, but retracted back to its spot without taking the bait.
Kirby set down the bite and backed away as far as the net would allow.
Reese took slow, easy steps closer. Then they both stood perfectly still. And waited.
It took a few minutes, but the puppy inched close enough to claim the food, then scurried back to the unreachable center behind the Dumpster.
“Smart little guy. Or girl,” Reese said.
“My bets are on girl. Time to take it to the next level.” Kirby placed another bite even farther outside the puppy’s self-defined boundary.
The creature gained a little more confidence, grabbing the bite this time and retreating before Reese could make her move.
“Party time,” Kirby whispered.
Reese moved to the edge of the Dumpster. The puppy would surely see her feet, but would hopefully forget all about it once the feast was laid out.
Kirby set two pieces of the burger on the ground, a couple of feet apart, along with a trail of French fries leading up to her feet as she backed completely against the netting. If the puppy wanted to claim all treats, he or she would inevitably linger.
Sure enough, the puppy took the bait.
Reese slipped the leash around the puppy’s neck while Kirby peeled away the netting.
The puppy railed against the leash but then seemed to finally realize they were there to help and relinquished its struggle on the way to the car.
Once settled in the back seat, the creature proceeded to lick Kirby’s face.
“Ah, more kisses.” She tore off a tiny bite of the burger as a reward.
“Boy or girl?” Reese asked as she started the car and took the first U-turn toward downtown.
Kirby lifted the little one’s wagging tail.
“Girl. I win.”
“You’re amazing. How did you know?”
“Easy. A boy would have taken the bait on the first drop and thought about the consequences later.”
Reese raised a brow and glanced in the rearview mirror. “Are we talking about dogs or men?”
Kirby simply smiled.
“Thank you for doing this. I know you’re really busy at work,” Reese said.
“Happy to do it.”
The puppy curled up beside Kirby and fell fast asleep as they rode, in relative silence, back to the station.
“Speaking of work and kisses, how did your date go last night?” Reese asked.
Kirby figured the question had been percolating in her friend’s brain.
“Okay. He’s amazing-looking, but otherwise I have no story to tell.” She privately smiled at her understatement, and Reese totally witnessed the momentary slip.
“Keep your eyes on the road, please,” Kirby admonished. “We don’t want to kill the puppy after we went to so much trouble to rescue her.”
“Okay.