Dark 'N' Deadly (Federal K-9) Read online

  God, she had to stay away from him. Yeah, good luck with that. Since they’d be living under his roof for who knew how long.

  Eric turned off the highway, giving her another look at the side door of his vehicle. The words “ATF K-9” were emblazoned on the panel, along with the name “Tiger” in white lettering. She assumed that was his dog’s name, although she had yet to see it.

  “Is your leg really okay?” She was concerned that they’d be living with the same dog that had bitten him.

  “I’m good.” He lifted his pants leg, and she was relieved that there wasn’t any blood seeping through the white gauze. “I can’t wait to hang out with him.”

  “Who?” She made another turn, following the SUV onto a narrow, two-lane road. “Eric, or the dog?”

  “Both. You-know-who would shit a brick if he ever found out. He never let me get a dog, no matter how much I begged the bastard for one. You know how much he hates ’em.” Jesse’s voice turned bitter. “I once found a stray in the woods. Since I couldn’t bring him home, I left food and water for him. I even built a doghouse out of some old boards in the barn. One day, I went to feed him, and he wasn’t there. But there was blood on the ground. I never saw him again, and I know he killed my dog. The fucker.”

  Her stomach roiled with anger. “Jesse, I’m so sorry.” How could anyone hurt a harmless dog?

  “He was just a mutt. Brown and black, with long shaggy fur.” His voice cracked. “I named him Joe. Killin’ Joe like that was pretty much the end of things for me there.”

  Sadness bubbled up inside her for Jesse and the poor dog she’d never met, and tears stung the backs of her lids. “Dogs are too good for him.” She couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. The mere thought of their stepfather had her gripping the wheel tighter. “Jesse, we have to be careful around Eric.”

  “I know that, sis. I know I’m from backwoods Alabama, but I’m not stupid.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you were. Besides, I’m from the same backwoods, so that would make us both stupid.” She squeezed his hand, trying unsuccessfully to muster a smile. “No matter what happens, you don’t have to go back there. There’s nothing I want more than for you to stay with me.”

  “I want that, too.” He squeezed her hand in return. “My life in Alabama is over.”

  I hope so. I really hope so.

  Eric slowed again as he entered a development. They drove past several more streets before he turned onto a driveway leading to an unexpectedly large gray house. She parked behind the SUV and shut off the engine. “Remember,” she warned, “choose your words carefully around him. He might be a great guy, but he’s still a federal agent.” One who held Jesse’s future in his hands.

  “I got it,” he reassured her then cracked a cocky smile. “It’s good to see you, sis.”

  More tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “It’s good to see you, too.” You have no idea how good.

  A door slammed, and she looked out the windshield. Eric stood by the SUV with a Heckler & Koch MP-5 slung over his shoulder, a rifle she’d shot a few times in the backwoods where she and Jesse had grown up. The side door of his SUV popped open and a large, dark brown, shorthaired shepherd leaped out, rushing at Jesse’s side of the car.

  “Oh, man.” Jesse pushed open his door. “Look at him. He’s got stripes!”

  “No, wait!” She made a grab for his arm, but he’d already gotten out. While she didn’t think Eric would have loosed his dog if it would attack, she pushed open her door, ready to throw herself between them.

  To her relief, the dog trotted toward her brother, its tail wagging as if it had just met a new playmate.

  “Go ahead,” Eric said. “You can pet him. Tiger, zit.”

  The dog sat and stretched out its snout to sniff Jesse’s hand. Hesitantly, her brother touched his fingers to the animal’s head. Still sitting, Tiger’s tail swished back and forth on the pavement with obvious glee. Her brother laughed, a sound she hadn’t heard in a decade, and then it had been the gleeful giggle of an eight-year-old boy.

  “He likes you.” Eric pulled out a black gear bag from the back of his SUV and set it on the driveway.

  “Be careful.” Her heart thumped a bit faster as she rounded the hood of her car to keep an eye on the dog. To her relief, Tiger was licking Jesse’s hand, probably tasting the remnants of the sandwich and chips he’d eaten—food Eric had bought for her brother, not for himself, as she’d mistakenly assumed.

  Jesse gently stroked the dog’s pointed ears, and the beginnings of a grin curved her brother’s mouth.

  Tiger leaned into Jesse’s hand, clearly enjoying the ministrations. Could be he was a natural with dogs, much like her best friend, Andi.

  Like her brother, Tess hadn’t grown up around dogs, but after working with Andi at the Dog Park Café, she’d come to love them, especially Andi’s dog, Stray, and Nick’s K-9, Saxon. The urge to adopt one of the strays that occasionally flocked to the café had been growing steadily, but her landlord had a strict no-dog policy.

  “I can see why you named him Tiger.” Excitement beamed on her brother’s face. “He has these cool stripes all over his body.” Jesse ran his hand along the dog’s spine, and Tiger’s tail whipped back and forth. “What kind of dog is he?”

  “A Dutch shepherd. His coloring is called ‘brindle.’”

  Tiger landed a lick on the back of Jesse’s hand. “Does he bark in Dutch?”

  Eric’s deep, rich laugh zinged straight to her belly, taking her completely off guard. “No, but he understands it.”

  “Really? No shit.” Jesse’s eyes widened. “Can you teach me to talk to him?”

  “Sure.”

  Even though it wasn’t meant for her, when Eric smiled at her brother, her heart skipped a beat then began beating faster. With all that golden blond hair glinting in the sunlight, those high cheekbones and clear blue eyes, he really did remind her of one of those conquering Viking heroes they made movies about.

  Jesse’s face twisted into a frown. “Doesn’t he remember tryin’ to bite my leg off?”

  “To him, what happened this morning doesn’t matter anymore.” Eric shut the SUV’s rear door. “Then, he was working. Now, it’s playtime. Come inside, then you can take him into the backyard for a while.”

  “Awesome.” Jesse hustled to the Camry to retrieve his backpack.

  “Are you sure Tiger won’t hurt him?” she asked, eyeing his thick shoulders as he adjusted the rifle strap.

  “Positive.” They turned to watch Jesse head to the door with Tiger trotting close on his heels. “Do you have a bag?”

  “On the backseat.” While he opened the door and retrieved her large duffel, she collected her shoulder bag and her penknife from the center console.

  A rising thundercloud blinked out the afternoon sun. Jesse was right. The irony of the situation was as palpable as the rainstorm headed their way. She took a deep breath and let it out. We’re really doing this.

  The house appeared newly constructed, with spotless gray paint and pristine white trim. Perfectly manicured flowerbeds on either side of the front door contained shrubs and several clumps of yellow, pink, and orange Echinacea. The weed-free front lawn was freshly cut. It was a beautiful house, but something about all that perfection gave it a sterile feel. It could use a new paint job. Red, or yellow, or…anything but gray.

  Jesse laughed, drawing her attention to where he and Tiger waited at the base of the steps leading to the front door. The dog stood by his side, gazing up at him from dark, almond-shaped eyes. Her brother’s hand never left Tiger’s head.

  “You don’t like it,” Eric said, coming to stand beside her.

  “Don’t like what?” She couldn’t take her eyes off Jesse and Tiger, amazed at the instant rapport between them.

  “My house.”

  “I didn’t say that.” For such a hard, masculine face, the disappointment in his eyes made him look adorable. “It’s beautiful. Really. So is your landscaping.
You must spend a lot of time on it.”

  “Not me.” He began walking to the front door, and she fell in step. “A landscaper takes care of it. I wouldn’t know what to do with a flower if my life depended on it. I don’t even know what these are called.” He canted his head to the pink, orange, and yellow flowers nearest the door.

  “It’s Echinacea.” She ran her fingers over the soft petals. “I love flowers, and I love color.”

  He unlocked the door, pushing it open, then paused to look over his shoulder. His gaze lowered down the length of her brightly colored tie-dye skirt, then back up. The corners of his mouth lifted. “I can see that.”

  Heat crept to her cheeks, and her throat went dry. Oh, boy. If this was what he could do to her body with just one look, imagine what—

  No. Don’t imagine anything. That would be bad, bad, bad, and stupid to have such thoughts. Dangerously, dangerously stupid.

  Tiger shot up the steps and through the door. She and Jesse followed Eric into a high-ceilinged foyer.

  The walls were white, the floor tile black, and a giant, multi-tiered silver chandelier hung over their heads. Everything inside was either black, white, or gray, and so was the mood of the house. Her color-craving chi took an instant nosedive.

  Eric set his gear bag on the floor then opened a closet door containing a tall safe. In seconds he had the safe open and his rifle secured inside. “All the bedrooms are upstairs.”

  As she and Jesse followed Eric to the second floor, she was almost afraid to walk on the uber-clean light gray-carpeted stairs.

  The house was deathly quiet. Not that she’d expected noise exactly, but it was spooky quiet in a way that made her afraid to say anything, and that wasn’t her style. The only sounds were Tiger’s panting huffs as he squeezed between them to dart ahead and the swish of Eric’s crisp cargo pants as he climbed the stairs in front of her. With every step, those black cargo pants tightened around his high, tight ass.

  She vividly remembered the first day she’d seen him standing in the doorway of the Dog Park Café, wondering how such a hard, masculine body could be so beautifully perfect that she’d stared at him as if he were a priceless work of art.

  She rolled her eyes. Since she’d be living—albeit temporarily—with all that physical perfection, she had to do it in a clinical way. So, no more “ass” thoughts. Try gluteus maximus. Gluteus to the freaking max.

  Eric stopped outside the first room at the top of the stairs. “Jesse, this will be your room.”

  “Cool.” Her brother brushed past her into the center of a gray-walled, gray-carpeted room then dropped his backpack to the floor. “Can I take Tiger outside?”

  “Yeah, go ahead. Use the back door in the kitchen.”

  “C’mon, Tiger.”

  Snorting, the dog eagerly followed her brother, leaving her and Eric alone. She took a deep breath, wishing his presence didn’t make her so nervous.

  He continued down the hall and stopped at another door, this one closed. He opened it, waiting for her to enter. She’d expected another drab, chi-sucking room, but when she stepped past him, she couldn’t stifle a soft cry of surprise.

  “Not what you expected, is it?”

  “Not even close.” As she did a three-sixty, taking in the room, her chi uttered a sigh of relief.

  The delicate pale pink walls reminded her of the rose quartz crystal around her neck. It’s perfect. Not that she was planning to stay long, but still. She couldn’t have selected a better color if she’d picked out the paint herself.

  The focal point of the room was a queen-size four-poster bed covered by a mauve duvet and matching pillow shams. Gauzy white floor-to-ceiling curtains embroidered with tiny pink and purple flowers bracketed the two windows. With the blinds open, the room was warm from the late-day summer sun.

  “You have your own private bath.” Eric went to another door and flicked on the lights, revealing a bathroom that was also painted pink and decorated with tasteful pink towels, soap, and other color-coordinated toiletries.

  With Eric standing against the bathroom doorjamb, she was forced to come within a few inches of him. When he moved to get out of her way, their arms touched, and a swarm of goose bumps erupted all over her body.

  “Sorry.” His brows lowered and he backed into the bedroom with a thoroughly disturbed look that she didn’t understand.

  Forcing brightness to her face, she smiled. “This is beautiful.”

  He arched a brow. “You look as shocked as you sound.”

  “Well, of course I am. The rest of your house from the inside out is so bland, and neutral, and sterile, but this”—she swept her arm around the room—“is so different, so colorful and full of life.”

  He snorted. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  Whoops. Insulting her benevolent host was rude and thoughtless. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I guess we’re like yin and yang.”

  “Like what?” His face screwed up in confusion.

  “Yin and yang,” she repeated. “Seemingly contrary forces that are complimentary in the natural world.” He still looked confused. “Total opposites.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “That, I agree with.”

  “So, why did you paint this room pink?”

  “After I had this place built, my sister stayed with me for a while. She needed color, so I let her do whatever she wanted to this room.”

  “But you left it this way after she moved out. Why?”

  He shrugged. “I intended to paint the walls gray again and change out all the pink and purple back to white, but I never got around to it.”

  “That’s why you keep this door closed.” She nodded in understanding. “It interferes with your chi, and for you, it’s not Feng Shui.”

  His handsome face contorted. “I have no idea what you just said.”

  “I can see that.” She couldn’t keep from giggling. “Chi is your life force, the invisible swirls of your essence. To me, color imbues life and energy, but it does the total opposite for you. Feng Shui is one of the five arts of Chinese metaphysics. The idea is for the forces of energy to harmonize a person with his or her environment. You crave simplicity. Black, white, gray. That’s why you keep this door closed.” He still looked skeptical. “I’ll put this in simplistic terms. Looking at this room messes with your head. Did I hit that on the mark?”

  “Not really.” He crossed his arms and frowned.

  Surprised, she planted her fists on her hips. She was sure she’d gotten her assessment of his psyche right. “Then why don’t you want any color in your life?”

  “It’s not about color, chi, Feng Shui, or anything else in a Chinese fortune cookie. It’s about—” He stopped, as if he couldn’t find the words he was searching for.

  “About what?” This conversation was definitely not going the way she’d expected. Not that she’d expected anything in particular.

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I like peace and quiet. When I come home, I don’t want chaos.”

  “That’s what Feng Shui is all about. Creating symbiosis.” She cocked her head. “How does color create chaos?”

  “Hell, I don’t know.” He let out an exasperated breath. “It just does. Just like this conversation is getting chaotic and starting to drive me crazy because it’s turning into an argument, which is exactly what I don’t want when I get home.”

  “We’re not arguing, we’re having a conversation. That’s what people do. Converse.” Tess didn’t know how, but they’d gotten off to an even rockier start than she could have anticipated. This didn’t bode well for her and Jesse staying there.

  “This seems like an argument to me.”

  “It’s not,” she insisted. “All I was trying to say was that you could use a little color in your life. You might surprise yourself and find that you actually like it.”

  “Doubtful.” His expression went dark, and the air positively electrified with his annoyance.

  “I’m sorry
to hear that. I’ll be sure to keep the door closed.” At the sounds of laughter and barking, Tess went to the window and looked down into the backyard.

  Jesse knelt on the grass, rubbing Tiger’s belly while the dog lay on his back with his legs pawing the air. The sight made her smile, but when she turned around, elation fled.

  Eric gave her a pointed scowl. “I need a shower. Make yourself at home.” Uncrossing his arms, he turned abruptly and was gone.

  What in the world is that about?

  He might have left the bedroom door open, but in reality, he’d totally shut her out. Not that he’d ever let her in, but this was different. Something she’d said triggered a not-too-pleasant response, and whatever it was wasn’t good.

  It was just as well Eric had pushed her away. Despite the attraction she’d once thought was reciprocal, clearly they were at opposite ends of the spectrum, and not just where colors were concerned. She needed to keep him carefully tucked away in a virtual box marked Danger, do not touch.

  Chapter Six

  Eric toweled off then dragged a hand through his damp hair. He’d thought the freezing cold water would eradicate his brain of all things involving Tess. Not. His goddamned brain was clogged with how incredibly beautiful she’d looked standing in Maggie’s old room.

  He hung the towel on a hook. She was right about why he kept that door closed. All that pink annoyed him, but surrounding her, it looked good. Guess it’s in sync with her Feng Shui. But that hadn’t been the reason he’d cranked the water to the absolute coldest setting. Hell no.

  When she’d stood in front of the window and turned to him, sunlight glinted off every one of her long red curls, framing her face in a halo of fire. That’s what she was. Fire to his water. Chaos to his calm. And Christ, he must have been imagining it. That crystal around her neck actually looked like it was glowing. It had to be a trick of the light.

  He opened the bathroom door, not surprised to find Tiger lounging on his dog bed and the bedroom door to the hall slightly ajar. Tiger was an amazing dog that had figured out how to turn a knob and open a door. Of course, the paint around the knob was completely scratched, and he’d given up repainting it. It was the only part of his house not in tip-top shape.