Free My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy by D.L. Jackson Page B

the back of my cruiser, and I need help getting him into the house.”
    “Why not take him to the station to sleep it off?”
    “Because he knew my brother, and I can’t. I need help. Will you please come over and give me hand lugging him into the house.”
    “It’s four in the morning and today is my day off, my morning to sleep in—or was.” Maggie let out an exaggerated sigh.
    “I’ll let you use my red pumps anytime the mood strikes you.”
    Silence.
    “Maggie?”
    “The sacred CFMs, the pair that’s off limits? The designer pumps you swiped out from under my nose at that yard sale?”
    “I didn’t swipe them out from under your nose. I saw them first.” In the box, never worn, the shoes had been a dream come true. Instead of a thousand dollars, she had paid ten, a steal that Maggie wouldn’t let her live down. They’d both seen them at the same time. Grace had been faster, much to her friend’s dismay. Every time they went out, she begged to borrow them, and Grace told her she saved them to wear for a special date—whenever in the next century that would be.
    “I’ll be over in five minutes.” Considering she lived ten minutes away, that said a lot.
    Grace twisted in her seat and eyed the soldier. Though he sounded like a chainsaw, the man put the god Aries to shame with his dark hair, thick lashes closed over sexy, bedroom eyes, and a bad ass body that kept going. His shirt had ridden up on his stomach, exposing a happy trail she wanted to follow to its ending. And that mouth. Wow. His mouth was strong, his smile, disarming. She’d bet her red shoes he was a great kisser.
    She blinked. Where the fuck did that come from ? She snapped back around, gripped the steering wheel, and stared at the house. She didn’t lust after strangers, and she sure as hell didn’t jump soldiers. She really needed to get out more. There was no other explanation for her sudden loss of lucidity.
     
    ***
     
    Maggie stared into the cruiser, her mouth agape.
    “So, you can see why I needed a hand.”
    “Or two.” She turned to Grace. “Look what the cat dragged in. Damn, girl, I want to go where kitty’s been hunting.”
    “I didn’t drag him in. I was going to give him a ride to wherever he’s staying, but he kind of passed out on me.”
    “You were going to let that get away. Honey, we need to have a serious talk. Sober him up and ride him until you’re bowlegged.”
    “I can’t believe you said that.”
    “I can’t believe you don’t know what you got here. Hello, do you see the same thing I do? Well, all of it but the mess he made. Damn, he just fell into your lap.”
    “That’s trouble.”
    “That’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
    “You’re such a whore.”
    Maggie grinned and raised her hand. “Guilty. At least get his name and number when he wakes up.”
    “I’m not pimping for you.” Grace eyed the soldier, irritated at the thought of her friend doing everything with the guy she’d sworn she wouldn’t think about.
    Maggie snorted. “Not for me,” she poked her in the chest, “for you. You need to get laid, and something tells me he’s the guy for the mission.”
    “Help me get him inside.”
    “And…?”
    “And then you go home.”
    “Promise me you’ll at least think about jumping him.”
    “If I promise to think about it, will you help me get him in the house and leave?”
    She crossed her finger over her heart and smiled the kind of smile that usually started trouble. “Can I offer a suggestion?”
    “Yes?”
    “Get the dolly from the garage. Even with two of us, I don’t think we can carry him in.”
    When her grandparents left her the house, it came with accessories, and though that wasn’t the purpose for which the dolly was designed, it would work. “You’re a genius.”
    “Yeah, I am, huh?”
    Grace glanced across the street to make sure the old hen who lived there wasn’t up and spying. Usually the curtain would be cracked open, or she’d drive up and