“Get out of the fucking way!”
I blink, momentarily stunned. I live in laid back, rural Mistletoe, Montana. It’s definitely not some high-powered area where people live on the clock. Hell, even our bank opens late some days, early others. We don’t have rush hour, and if we did it’s most likely because the reindeers at the petting zoo have gotten loose again. Even in December—which is the height of our tourist season—you rarely see anyone in a great hurry, or a lot of traffic. It’s just one of the many reasons I love my town.
“She escaped from—”
“She needs to be on a leash!” the man barks.
I wince, because I know what’s coming next. The guy said the “L” word.
“Now, Ab—”
I can’t even get her name out before her massive paws jump on the hood of the sleek, shiny metallic black car. She growls like she wants to tear the man apart—and she just might.
“Get this beast off my car!” the man yells and slams down on the horn yet again.
I jog over to the car, reaching through the window to grab the man’s hand.
“Will you stop that! You’re upsetting her!”
“Upsetting her?” he asks, like I’m insane. “Lady, she’s on the hood of my damn car!”
“That’s your fault!” I accuse, and really it is.
“It’s my fault your damn moose is on my car?” he asks, incredulously.
“Abominable is not a moose,” I deny. And she’s not. She doesn’t have horns for one. I will admit that she might qualify as a pony…
“Abominable?” he scoffs.
“You know like the abominable snowman in the cartoon? I call her Abbie for short,” I confirm, kind of proud of the name.
“The…” he stares at me blankly and I just wait. Surely he can see that the name is awesome. “Lady get your damn dog off my car,” he orders through clenched teeth, because apparently he fails to see the genius of Abominable’s name.
“Listen, you upset her, so her being on your car is not my fault. I can calm her down—”
“I upset her?” he literally screeches.
“You said the L word,” I respond with a sigh.
“The L word?”
“Leash,” I whisper, practically mouthing the words. It doesn’t do any good. Abominable has the hearing of a big-eared mouse. She can hear a pin drop on a pile of pillows—the soft fluffy ones that cost more than some people make in a month’s time.
The minute Abominable hears me say the word leash, she slaps her paws against the hood of the expensive sports car. Her big toenails dig into the metal in a way that I know it’s scratching deeply, making me wince.
“Fucking hell! Get your mutt off my car!”
“She’s not a mutt! She’s a Great Pyrenees!”
“She’s an unhinged dog and if this is how you keep your pets under control, then you shouldn’t have one,” he snaps.
I think Abominable must be afraid that the guy might hurt me, because when he goes to open his door Abominable shifts gears, bounds around the car and pushes the door closed by thrusting her weight against it. I flinch because now the door has matching scratches to the hood.
“What in the hell?” the man growls.
“She thinks you’re yelling at me. She’s very protective,” I explain pulling her by her collar and getting her off the car.
“Christ,” the man mutters under his breath. He pinches his nose, but most of his expression is covered by his expensive designer sunglasses.
“I… uh… will pay for the damages on your car. You can take it to Comet’s Car Wash in town. They will buff it out and send me the bill, hopefully that will fix most of the damage,” I tell him, kind of stumbling over the words, because I know he’s upset and I’m also wrestling with my dog, who really doesn’t like the guy.
“Comet’s Car Wash?” he questions.
“Well, yeah. I guess there are others around, but they do really good work.”
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks, and since he’s not screaming at me, I nod my head yes. “This town goes back to being normal after Christmas, right?”
“Normal?” I murmur.
“Yeah, like they go back to regular names Comet’s Car Wash is probably what? Carl? Or Jiffy? And surely the theater in town isn’t—”
“Uh…the names stay the same. That’s the great thing about Mistletoe, we’re pretty much Christmas year around. It’s very laid back.”
“Jesus Fucking—”
“Could you not curse in front of Abominable?” I ask him, cutting off what I’m sure is going to be a barrage of colorful words.
He turns to look at me and I’m pretty sure I gasp when he takes off his sunglasses and the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life stare back at me. I mean, I live in Montana. We have the most beautiful blue skies you could imagine. Those skies and my sister are the sole reasons I moved here. But they can’t even hold a candle to the beauty that is reflected back at me in those eyes. They manage to heat my entire body and heck even my nipples seem to tingle.
They’re that potent.
Now, don’t think I’m some sex-addicted addict who has gone way too long without a fix. That’s not it at all. I can go so long without sex it would blow the average mind. It blows mine.
“Are you afraid the dog will start cussing you out?
“What?” I seem to lose track of the conversation. I can’t stop staring into those ocean blue eyes that are looking down at me full of disbelief but are sexy at the same time.
He smiles at me and that’s when I feel more than a little self-conscious. It’s a sexy smile that makes his eyes sparkle. It makes me feel like he’s picturing me completely naked and I feel my entire body flush with heat.
“Why don’t you want me cussing in front of your dog, Bebé?”
He’s tall, at least four inches taller than me and since I’m five-nine, that’s something I don’t get a lot of. He’s broad too. He’s wearing a white t-shirt that is stretched across his muscles, with worn jeans that are faded and wrinkled in ways that carefully hug his muscles and make you wonder if he looks just as good without them.
Okay, so I am starting to sound like I am in heat.
I can’t explain it. There’s something about this guy that zaps my brain cells and ignites my long dormant libido.
“It makes her nervous,” I murmur, moistening my lips and wishing I had a bottle of water because suddenly my mouth is horribly dry.
“She doesn’t look nervous,” he says, and mysteriously all signs of his bad humor appear to have vanished.
“She doesn’t?” I ask, feeling stupid, but even though I know I am acting insane, I can’t stop myself.
“Nope.”
“Why not?” I ask, wondering if his eyes are really tractor beams and I’m just stuck in them.
“Look down, Bebé,” he says, his voice dropping down into a sexy as hell whisper.
“Excuse me?” I breathe. I think it was better for my mind that he was grouchy and laying down on his horn.
“Look down,” he repeats, his smile deepening.