Page 4 of Junkyard Dog

“No,” JD interrupts. “Stay here. I’ll get the key and walk us through. Then I’ll drive you both home.”

“What about my car?”

“Leave it here. I’ll bring you back to pick it up in the morning as long as nobody’s watching it.” He tilts his chin at the door. “Block this behind me. I’ll knock when I come back.” He goes through the door like a man on a mission.

“Holy shit, that was like twenty words,” Romy whispers. “I didn’t know he knew that many.”

“Shut up. He’s doing me a huge favor. But what if she follows me to your place?” I didn’t intend to bring trouble to Romy’s door. She is a really good friend. This visit is supposed to be fun.

“She won’t even know we’re leaving the bar, and she won’t be able to follow a parked car. JD will fix it. You’ll see.” Romy speaks with and absolute confidence that is a complete front because she yelps when the door on the restaurant side opens.

JD sticks his head in. “Come on.”

I squeeze past him in the doorway. He doesn’t react, but my nipples spring to attention after brushing against his shirt. He relocks the door and leads us through the closed restaurant out the back to where his truck is waiting.

Romy climbs into the back without a word, leaving the front seat open for me. JD taps a button on the dashboard and the leather seat under my ass begins to get warm, chasing away the late-night autumn chill. “Where are you taking us?” I ask.

“Once I know we’re not being followed, I’m dropping you at Romy’s place. Bishop is on his way over. I’ll be by in the morning to drive you back to your car. Tell me about your stalker.”

“I don’t have a proper name. She’s probably the only stranger in the bar. Long, straight, bottle-blond hair, average height, average weight, early to mid-thirties. Her shirt is two sizes too small for her boobs, so she’s busting out all over. I’d guess that she’s either asking for me or for a man named Brandon or Bronson.”

He turns his head to stare at me hard. “Your stalker is a woman?”

“Yes.”

“Who are Brandon and Bronson? Exes? Yours or hers?”

“Neither. They’re fictional. It’s a long story. Don’t underestimate her. If there is a car in the parking lot with a DC or east coast licence plate that isn’t mine, it’ll be hers. The plate number would be useful to give to the police. Do you think you could find out what it is?”

“I’ll get it for you.”

I feel a bump in my back. I don’t look but I know Romy is grinning at me. I want to grin myself. I didn’t expect JD to ask about exes. I’m going to take it as some flattering interest in me rather than a professional information request. Maybe there is a little interest on his part. He did say that I might see him again. That plus Romy’s comments about how he doesn’t speak to anyone else give me hope.

He goes silent after that, but I don’t mind. JD drops us off and after we bring Bishop up to date, I crash for the night in their spare room. I need my beauty sleep. I have another date with JD in the morning.

Chapter Four

Idream of sexy blondes and wake up hard to wet kisses on my cheek. I turn my head and get hit with full-on doggie breath. “Mandy, off!” The dog keeps climbing onto my bed at night. I tell her “no”, but she doesn’t listen. I don’t want to kennel her so I’m going to have to come up with something new. This wouldn’t be a problem if I had a delicious, curvy romance writer sleeping next to me, taking up the rest of my king-size mattress.

The dogs are up before the sun, so I have to get up as well. I let them outside to do their business and pour a cup of coffee from the pot that I set up the morning before on a timer. For once, my day’s schedule has more on it than pulling parts that my cousins have requested, breaking down new junkers and listing their components on the salvage yard’s website, and hanging out at the clubhouse and chipping in with whatever my brothers need done.

Today I get to play knight in shining armor for Rhiannon. I don’t know why I opened my mouth and volunteered. Bishop could have driven her back to her car. He’s right there. I tell myself that I don’t want her stalker to get a chance to seeanything that could lead back to Romy’s place. But that’s a lie. I just want to see her again.

I should text Bishop, ask him to do it. I am not the man for the job. I couldn’t handle a training exercise, not without a brother-in-arms ending up dead. Violet doesn’t blame me for what happened to her first husband. Hell, neither did the rest of my team. But even the revelation that Keith had been set up and I was collateral damage doesn’t ease the guilt. He’s gone. I’m still here—at least, pieces of me are. But I’m not the man I used to be, or even the man I thought I was. The scars prove it. Why am I deluding myself to think I can handle a protection detail, even on a romance writer? It would be lying to Rhiannon to let her believe I can look after her.

She, on the other hand, hasn’t lied. For a split second, I thought Romy might be trying to set me up with her friend. It wouldn’t be the first time. Then, after I dropped the girls off, I swung back around to the bar and grill. There was a kidnapper’s white van with Virginia plates in the parking lot, just like Rhi suspected. The woman in the bar had been polite but the staff told me that they had found her trying to access the staff room. She’d claimed she was lost.

The stalker left at closing. Then she sat in her van for an hour and a half, until the lights were out and the last vehicle drove away, leaving Rhiannon’s and one other in the parking lot. This meant that I had all of five hours sleep last night. At least it was a solid five. I haven’t had that in a while.

I know where this is heading. Both Violet and Romy arrived with trouble in their wakes. I can see Rhiannon isn’t going to be any different. How do these women find each other?

The dogs race back inside. I tell them that I’ll be back soon, then jump in my truck. I’m pulling up to Romy’s place when I realize that it’s seven in the morning. Rhiannon’s on vacation;she might not even be up yet. She certainly won’t be ready for company.

I am in the middle of a three-point turn when movement in Romy’s backyard catches my eye. Rhiannon appears out of the mist, bit by bit, as she climbs the sloped lawn from the lakeshore to the house. She looks completely unconcerned about the cold temperatures in her jeans, sweatshirt, and flannel jacket. When she spots me, she lifts a hand to wave.

I’ve never seen perfection walking before.

“I didn’t expect to see you so early. Are you here to drive me back to my car already?” Her face falls. “Or was there a problem with my superfan?”

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