“Hey,” I protest, and turn to face him, holding out my hand while putting my other hand on my hip. “Give it back.” I wiggle my fingers and he looks me over, making every inch of me tingle. “I’m not kidding; give it back. It was a gift from my dad.”
He looks me over again then looks over my head, and says, “Lets roll.”
“What?” I look at him then all the guys walking away and getting on their bikes. I don’t know why I’m not happier about them leaving, but I swear I want to run up to that guy, jump on his back, and wrap myself around him. I shake my head at my stupidity and yell, “Good riddance!”
That comment must have come too soon, ’cause Hot Biker Dude slips off his bike and comes back to me. I think he’s going to be a jerk, but instead, he hands me my Taser and mutters, “Be safe, babe.”
I watch him walk away; his ass in jeans is like nothing I have seen before. He lifts his leg and straddles his bike, and I stay in place, watching his arm muscles flex from behind. “Holy shit,” I whisper as they all pull off. I get on my bike quickly and head back towards the area I saw the bird. I finally find the poor guy off the side of the road near the edge of a field. Once I have him in my hand, I get back on my bike, and that’s when I hear the sound of pipes once again. A shiver slides down my spine, but I ignore it and focus on what I need to do.
I unzip my leather jacket and unfold the bird’s wing so that I can tuck it closer to his body. Once I have his wing adjusted, I place him near my belly with one hand.
“What are you doing?” a dark, rich voice asks, and I startle almost dropping the poor bird, so I lift my head and glare.
“He broke his wing.”
“It’s a bird,” Hot Biker Dude says, looking at the tiny animal in my hand.
“I know that.” I roll my eyes and zip up the lower part of my jacket so the little bird is secure against me, with his miniature head sticking out the top of the zipper.
“What are you doing with him?”
“Taking him to my office, where I can hopefully get him fixed up.”
“You a doctor?”
I lift my head and our gazes connect. This time, without the visor, I can see his eyes are green, a green so light that they remind me of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
“You gonna answer, or just stare at me?”
What the hell is wrong with me? “I’m a vet.” I feel my face pinking from being called out. “Sorry about earlier,” I murmur, picking up my helmet from behind me and slipping it on, feeling instant relief when he’s blocked out. I lean forward and start up my bike, being careful of the bird that is now sitting close to me. I look at Hot Biker Dude one more time and lift my chin. He smiles, crosses his arms over his chest, and leans back in his seat. I know right then that if I ever see him again, I’m screwed.
Chapter 1
“Hey, Dad.” I smile, walking into my parents’ house. My dad lifts his head from the papers in front of him on the island and smiles as I slide onto the seat next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder.
“Hey,” he says, tenderly pressing a kiss to the top of my head then wrapping his large arm around my shoulders. I set my bag down on the counter and lean forward, picking up the coffee cup in front of him and taking a sip. “What’s going on?”
I let out a shaky breath, set the cup down, and lean back so I can look at him.
“There was another dog left on the hospital’s doorstep this morning,” I tell him, and anger instantly fills his features. “I hate it, Dad,” I whisper. “I hate knowing someone is fighting dogs and getting away with it. I hate that when they get to me, they are so badly broken I don’t have any choice but to help them pass peacefully.” I feel tears sting my nose, but I fight them back. You can’t cry in front of my dad. He doesn’t deal well when his girls cry.
“What did Uncle Nico say?”
“He’s putting up cameras out front to see if he can catch anyone, but there isn’t much he can do right now,” I mutter, picking his cup of coffee back up and taking another sip.
“I’ll call your cousins and see if they can have some of their boys do a round in the area.”
“Dad, seriously, they’re busy.” I shake my head. I know my cousins would do rounds if I asked them to, but I hate the idea of them worrying about me. They may be my younger cousins, but you would never know it by how they treat any of us girls. They make my uncles and dad look tame.
“If things don’t pan out with the cameras, I’m asking them.”
I roll my eyes, knowing there is no point in arguing. There are times you may as well be talking to a brick wall when speaking to my father.
“Hey, honey.” My mom smiles, walking into the kitchen, wearing a robe that isn’t exactly appropriate, but still looks good on her. My mom is beautiful, and judging by the look on my dad’s face, he seems to think so too. Which is my cue to leave.
“Hey, Mom,” I mumble as her arms wrap around me and she kisses my cheek.
“I didn’t know you were coming by.” She looks at my dad over my head, but I still catch the look she gives him. Gross.
“I just wanted to come steal some food before I went home,” I tell her, and then want to take it back, ’cause I need to get out of here.
“Do you want me to make you something?” she offers, going to the fridge.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll stop at the store,” I assure her.
I swear my parents are complete freaks, and I do not want to witness anything that will have me bleaching out my eyeballs later. Been there, done that, never going back.
“Are you sure?” She frowns, looking me over.
“Babe, she’s leaving,” my dad growls at her, making me smile.
“Asher Mayson.” She puts her hands on her hips and I almost laugh.
“I’m sure, Mom.” I pick up my bag and kiss my dad on the cheek before giving my mom another hug. I yell, “Love you, guys,” over my shoulder as I rush out of their house.
I drive twenty minutes to my house across town. I live in a yellow, three-bedroom, ranch-style home with a huge front porch that sits two rocking chairs. Even though my house is in town, the houses in my neighborhood are all spread out, each of us on my block having around one-acre lots.
I shut down my car in my driveway, not bothering to park in the garage since I would have to crawl out my trunk, and grab my bag before making my way up to my front porch. I grab my mail from the mailbox next to my door before making my way inside, quickly closing the door behind me so that Juice doesn’t have a chance to escape.
“Hey, big guy.” I drop my mail and bag on the entryway table and pick up Juice when he jumps up, making the contents of the table rattle. “What have you been doing?” I rub my face into the soft fur of his neck and smile when he begins to purr. “I think it’s going to be an early night,” I tell him as I walk back to my bedroom and toe off my shoes in my closet before dumping Juice onto the bed.
He walks around in circles for a moment before curling himself up into a ball and closing his eyes. I shake my head, wishing I could fall asleep as easily as he does. I always find it hard to sleep after work. My body is normally exhausted, but my mind is in a constant state of worry. I’m always wondering if I missed something, or if I should have done something differently with one of the animals in my care. I slip off my clothes, pull on a pair of cut-off sweats that are now shorts, find a tank top, and put that on before making my way into the kitchen.