Free Love 'Em: A Bad Boy Romance by Kelley Harvey Page B

after you get to know
them for more than thirty seconds.” He ruffles the fur on top of the dog’s
head.
    Once inside, he lets the dog loose. I hold still while it
smells my shoes, my legs…my crotch. “Oh, no you don’t.”
    I push the dog’s cold nose away from my lady parts, my
fingers sinking into his velvety, whiskered cheeks—do dogs have cheeks?
    Jackson grabs his collar and pulls him back. “Now, Bull. You
know better than that. I’m the only one who gets to do that in this house.”
    Heat sneaks up my chest and onto my cheeks at the image that
brings to my mind—Jackson with his face at the apex of my thighs.
    Jack leads me inside the huge, open floor plan home. Bull
follows us every step of the way, a rather large and well-loved stuffed animal
hanging out of his mouth by its leg. We pass through two living areas, both
furnished with luxurious sofas, chairs, and shiny, glass tables. From there, we
enter a chef’s kitchen.
    How does he keep the tables so clean with such a slobbery dog?
    Jackson doesn’t let go of my hand until he seats me at the
granite island on one of the four sleek, black leather stools. “Here, let me
get a towel.”
    Bull sits two feet from me. His eyes follow every move Jack
makes, occasionally darting to me as though he wonders where I fit into his world.
He’s not the only one.
    Jack pulls a kitchen towel from a drawer and turns on the
water. He lathers up well and rinses. Then he wets the corner of the towel.
    “Nice house.” As if that isn’t an understatement. “You
lived here long?”
    “Thanks. I guess I’ve been here for three—no—four years this
coming March.”
    I hold out my hand for the towel, but he pulls it out of my
reach. “Let me.”
    “It’s an open wound. Don’t touch it.”
    “You can’t scare me. I’m not worried about getting a little
blood on my hands.”
    I take the warm towel from him and press it to the sore spot
at the top of my forehead. “I’ll wait for the doctor, if you absolutely think I
need one. Otherwise, I’d rather wash it, bandage it, and be done.”
    He pulls out his phone and taps the screen a couple of times.
“Yes. Thank you. I need to have Dr. Bentley come out to my place right away. My
girl—my friend has a small head injury, but it’s bled quite a lot.”
    After he hangs up, he goes to the almost wall-sized fridge
and pulls out a couple of bottles of water. The dog is right behind him, tail
wagging like mad. Jack cracks the lids and sets them on the counter in front of
me.
    I take one of the offered drinks. “Thank you. I appreciate your
taking such good care of me. You really didn’t have to.”
    He brushes my cheek with his knuckle. “Well, I couldn’t
exactly leave you there, bleeding out on the tennis court.”
    Jack’s tenderness seeps into my skin and soaks into my heart.
It’s unexpected, but in a good way.
    “No holiday decorations?”
    He shrugs. “It’s just me and Bull. Kind of seems like a waste
of energy to put up a tree and everything.”
    I nod. “Yeah. I put up the tree at Shay’s. She said we
should skip it. But it reminds me of home.”
    By the time we finish our water, the doorbell peals through the
house, and the dog gallops from the kitchen, sounding the alarm that an
invasion is imminent. But he circles back before Jack even gets to his feet.
    Jackson drops a kiss on my cheek. “Be right back. Doc will
have you fixed up in no time.”
    As Jackson exits the room my nasal passages are assaulted by
a fetid smell. Did Jack fart and leave ? That rude—wait…
    Bull stands there looking at me, tail wagging, tongue
lolling. A high-pitched squeak sounds, and the whites of Bull’s eyes show and
he jumps as if he’s been shocked. He sniffs his own ass and takes off into the
other room, like the hounds of hell are on his heels.
    They aren’t. He left them in here with me. Another onslaught
of rotten egg odor wafts in the air.
    Oh, good gracious. The reek is going to stick to my clothes,
my