Free A Texas Chance by Jean Brashear Page A

A burden. After the third home, she’d run away.
    “I won’t give up on you,” she promised. “I don’t know where to put you when the hotel is open, but I’ll figure something out.” She stroked his proud head and bent closer. His tongue swiped her cheek, and she couldn’t help giggling. “That tickles,” she said, stroking him again. She studied him. “Julian, you think?” She shook her head. “Maybe not. How about Finn? That’s a nice Irish name.”
    The dog remained unmoved. She leaned in closer. “Skeeter?” she whispered.
    His head rose. He began to pant, and she wondered if his expression counted as a doggy grin.
    “That’s a terrible name, you know. You could have something much more dignified.”
    He nudged at her hand with his nose.
    “Let’s don’t be hasty. We can think about it, okay? I refuse to give Cade the satisfaction,” she murmured. But her shoulders shook with her chuckles. “Promise me you’ll keep this between us.” She bent her head into his nose, feeling both slightly foolish and comforted. Maybe that’s why people like dogs, she thought. A good dog felt like a good friend.
    The noises of the clinic receded, and Sophie experienced a sense of calm for the first time in days. She laid her head against the cage and the warmth of the dog’s breath huffed softly against her hair.
    She closed her eyes and let the peace take her.
    C ADE STOPPED JUST INSIDE the doorway as soon as he spotted her. He watched as a different Sophie emerged. Not the ice queen, not the worn-out laborer wired tightly enough to snap.
    This Sophie was soft. Sweet. Exhausted and vulnerable.
    And delighted. The habitual strain left her shoulders as she whispered to the dog, let her fingers stroke him, giggled when he licked her face.
    She’s had a really hard life, Jenna had said.
    A many-faceted woman. He found himself wanting to protect her, though he had no idea what from. A fragile beauty lay beneath that bossy, I-don’t-need-you exterior.
    None of that was his concern, however much Jenna wanted to make it so. And he had his own problems. But maybe he could focus simply on that body he already wanted to get his hands on. She was attracted, so was he. He had time to kill and she needed help. They could keep things simple. He couldn’t provide her with any new shots, but he would wangle a tour from her first thing in the morning and get a sense of what she was after. Then he’d mentally put together a selection of his photos while he was working outside.
    He’d even give her a cut-rate price, not because Jenna had maneuvered him into it but because he could see that Sophie’s back was against the wall and she had something special in mind.
    There. He had it all figured out. He’d get stronger from working; she’d get her hotel open. And if a nice little fling came with the package, well…he wouldn’t complain.
    Even though none of that got him back with a camera in his hand or the itch to shoot it.
    Sophie stirred then, a welcome distraction from his dark thoughts. She was gathering herself to say goodbye, he could tell, so he slipped out the way he’d come without her noticing. She looked as peaceful and happy right now as he’d ever seen her in their brief acquaintance, so he’d let her be.
    Besides, he was pretty certain he was going to be sore as hell in the morning. A hot soak at Jenna’s and early to bed—preferably before he had to discuss Sophie with Jenna.
    He was tired, but it was a good tired. Tomorrow he had a purpose, and if it wasn’t anything he’d ever imagined himself doing, well…it was still a goal. He was too much a MacAllister to enjoy aimlessness.
    He hazarded one backward glance before he closed the door.
    “’Night, Skeeter,” he said quietly.
    Sweet dreams, Sophie .
    Before he left, he paid for the surgery and left instructions on where to send the rest of the bill.

CHAPTER SIX
    I N THE MORNING , Sophie wandered outside just after dawn with a peanut butter and