Page 8 of Throw Down

“It’s simple math.” One corner of his mouth curled in disgust.“What? You think us rednecks can’t understand numbers without going to some fancy college?”

“Community,” Briar murmured, transfixed by his annoyed expression.

“What?”

“Community college.” And then he smiled, because despite everything, he was proud of what he’d accomplished.Not many people made it out of his old neighborhood without a needle in their arms.

Those striking eyes weighed on him, but Briar couldn't meet his gaze.He didn’t dare. Not until he found his equilibrium and remembered that he’d moved to the smallest, straightest town on earth for a reason.The dating pool in Sweetwater was non-existent, and he liked it that way.

It had been more than a year since he’d been touched.Even longer since he’d enjoyed it.But no matter how tantalizing the body beneath Derek’s dirty clothes might be, it was off limits.

Nate always said he had terrible taste in men.Dax had been a low point, but he’d started out charming.He’d snared Briar with a pretty face and sweet nothings.It was only after their lives were hopelessly entangled that he'd revealed his true nature.

Derek Owens was the opposite.He obviously realized the assumptions people made about him, so he’d decided not to even try for charming.Then again, why would he? Briar was the real asshole here.He'd almost slammed the door in his face based on looks alone.

“She’s going to be okay, you know,” he said, smiling hesitantly.

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m not psychic,” Briar agreed, “but I’m smart, and I’m well-trained.”

He expected a sarcastic response, but it never came.Derek merely watched him with a remote expression.There was something unsettled in those clear green eyes.

“It might help if you petted her,” Briar suggested.

Derek didn’t budge. By this point, Briar suspected he was just being stubborn.

“She’s in a strange place with bad smells,” he added lamely.“Your presence will be comforting.”

“I don’t see why,” Derek grumbled, but he finally unfolded from his elaborate slouch.

There was no waft of cologne when he brushed past, no spiced rum or essence of alpine forest, but Briar couldn't resist filling his lungs anyway.

Derek stopped beside the exam table and stared down at the puppy, but he made no move to touch her.Without thinking, Briar grabbed him by the wrist and set his hand lightly on her rump.His skin was a shock. Cool to the touch, but solid and real...because he was a real person.Not a grumpy face with muscles for Briar to thirst over.

Briar dropped him fast, wiping his hand against the front of his lab coat, and Derek's eyes tracked the motion.

Then the puppy twitched, and his attention was focused solely on her.His hand was so big that it easily spanned half her body, but he was incredibly gentle.He started at her head and went all the way to the tip of her stubby tail in one smooth stroke.Then he repeated the gesture. Methodical. Precise.

“What’s her name?” Briar asked, using the same soft, slow tone that he reserved for cranky animals.

“Doesn’t matter. I'm not keeping her.” Derek's voice was thick.“Let her new owners give her a name.”

“But…why?” Briar stared at him, aghast.

Derek shrugged, nearly blindsiding him with the flex of his massive shoulders, and said gruffly, “I never wanted her.”

“But you’ve kept her all this time—”

Derek looked up sharply. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard, but—”

“I don’t want her.”

Briar might have believed him if he hadn’t had to force the words out like bullets.

“If there’s one thing I know about dogs, it’s that they don’t need much,” Briar said, petting one silky ear with a fingertip.“She just wants to love you with all her loyal little heart.That’s enough for her.”

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