Free Smittened by Jamie Farrell

whatever it was—with Mikey, but the rumors said Lindsey knew that sort of thing. And Dahlia had thought that maybe if Mikey had heard something, it might give her some clue as to why he’d gotten under her skin.
    And if he liked her back, or if he was just amusing himself with her.
    If he liked her enough to not care who did or didn’t think they’d make a good couple.
    She watched her breath crystallize over the steering wheel. A few snowflakes drifted down from the rapidly darkening sky.
    Mikey wasn’t a bad guy. Under all the innuendos and the swagger, he had a sweet side.
    He hid it well, but it was there.
    She could bring it out of him. He wasn’t asking for money, he didn’t need her to watch his pet, nor did he truly need her house to stay at. There was nothing about him that screamed user .
    He simply needed to be loved.
    No, she thought that’s what he needed. What he thought he needed, she had no idea. Men were so complicated.
    Her front door opened, and the man himself stepped out into the flurries in the fading evening light. He was in a jersey-style black and gray Henley, jeans that did all the right things for his lean hips and long legs, cowboy boots, and the ever-present Billy Brenton ball cap over his shaved head.
    Smokin’ hot, put together, and edgy on the outside, hiding a wounded soul in need of saving on the inside.
    She dropped her head to the steering wheel.
    He’d be even worse than Ted. Because what he took wouldn’t be something replaceable like money.
    Mikey knocked on the car window. She rolled her head to the side and popped open one eyeball. His hands thrust deep into his pockets, and he fidgeted on his feet.
    The longer she sat here, the colder they would both get. She, at least, had a coat.
    She reached for the door handle.
    He must’ve taken that as a sign, because he grabbed the handle from the outside and pulled her door open quicker than she could finish herself. “Nice afternoon?” he asked.
    His voice was warm and rich, with no hint of innuendo or hidden agenda. Like hot chocolate without the marshmallows, because the hot chocolate had finally figured out it was pretty spectacular on its own and didn’t need the extra filler.
    Yep, Dahlia had a problem.
    He offered a hand, and even though she was perfectly capable of climbing out of the car herself, she took it. “It was,” she said.
    She stood and pocketed her keys.
    Mikey didn’t drop her other hand. Instead, he studied her, eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his cap.
    Her pulse kicked up.
    “Will and Mari Belle saved me,” he said. “From myself. I was a hell of a kid. My daddy worked hard, my momma did her best and spent most of my childhood taking care of my sick grandmama, but I wanted to have fun. Being friends with Will, having Mari Belle fussing over both of us—they got me out of a lot of trouble. Kept me from finding even more. And now I’m watching him do the dumbest thing he’s ever done. This time he knows better, and I want to stop but, but I can’t. Can’t anybody else either.”
    Despite the freezing temperatures outside, everything inside Dahlia went soft and melty.
    He did have a sweet side.
    “Mari Belle?” Dahlia said.
    Mikey winced, but there was something more there too. Something sad. “His sister. She’d hit this place like a hurricane. Saw it all go down the first time, when Will met her.”
    “Lindsey.”
    “Yeah.”
    Dahlia had speculated as much while she was playing with the kitties at the shelter all afternoon.
    “She broke him,” Mikey said. “Met on some spring break trip. Made him think she was falling in love with him, then dumped his ass hard. He wasn’t the same after that. Not for a long, long time.” He slid her a look. “You watch a friend get that tore up over a girl, makes you think twice about not letting yourself be dumb enough to care about somebody who’s gonna let you down.”
    She didn’t know why he was telling her this, but her heart went sappy-gooey