Page 9 of Tucker

“Very nice. The nicest kiss I’ve ever gotten.” She glanced at him again. “Not that I’ve had that many.”

It was his turn to snort. “A woman who looks like you?”

“Is that a compliment?” She smiled. “Thank you.”

“A woman who flirts as much as you do?”

She shrugged. “You say flirting, I say being nice.But—” She slowed to turn the corner. “I haven’t been kissed many times at all.”

Not knowing what to think of that, Tucker said, “Definemany.”

“If you must know...” Suddenly, she clammed up.

“Yes?”

Muttering now, she said, “I’m selective, that’s all.”

“How many, Kady?”

“Let’s just say I could tally them all with the fingers on my own two hands.”

“Ten?” No way. He wasn’t buying it. “So none of your boyfriends were into kissing?”

“What boyfriends?” she replied easily enough. “I haven’t had a boyfriend, not since high school.”

He was definitely calling bullshit on that one. “I’ve seen you on dates.” And it always bugged the hell out of him. “You can’t deny it. You and...” He couldn’t think of the clown’s name. “...that one doofus—you were at the last fishing competition together.”

Her mouth twitched. “Denny is not a doofus.”

“Has a hell of a ring to it.” He repeated thoughtfully, “Denny is not a doofus.”

“He’snot. Actually, he’s a terrific guy, but he was never my boyfriend. We went to the competition dutch. As friends.”

Dennywasa doofus, but he was still a man, and Tucker couldn’t believe the guy didn’t try for a kiss at the very least. “There’s no way—”

“How many women have you kissed?”

He verbally tripped, surprised that she’d turned things around on him. “Hell, I don’t know.” At least she’d only asked about kissing, not sex.

“Too many to count?” she challenged.

“It’s not that there were so many, but since I started kissing girls in grade school, recalling them all might be tough.”

“Grade school?”

Tucker shrugged. “It’s nice.”Maybe he should show her.“Let’s just say—”

“Oh my God.”When she braked, the van swerved, but she expertly maneuvered the vehicle, her hands moving fast on the wheel. This time she tapped the brakes and brought the van to a halt at the side of the road.

Tucker didn’t have to ask her what had happened.

There, caught in the headlights in the middle of the road, was a small yellow dog, covered in mud, shivering and staring at them. The rain had let up, but the dog was already soaked.

The van idled. “No collar,” she whispered.

Twisting, Tucker reached for the door handle with his right hand. “Stay put.” But as he got out, the dog whined and took several steps to the side of the road...then stopped and waited again.

By the looks of her, not only was the dog female, but she’d recently given birth. His heart twisted. God, it was a miserable night for such a thing.

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