“Yes, just hate to put it all on you.”
“Never mind. Will you just go have some fun? Lake Tahoe is a fun place and you’re on your honeymoon. Why are you even calling me?”
She laughs. “I just worry.”
“Well stop. We’ve got it all under control. We’ve got a heap more volunteers coming later, and the twins are going to spend the night in the shelter after we get everyone that isn’t adopted settled back in later this afternoon.”
“Thank you so much. Okay, guess I’ll go do some honeymoon stuff.” She snorts and I laugh.
“Sounds good. Not too much information though, okay?”
“No problem. Talk to you Monday.”
With that, we sign off and for the next few hours, Curtis, myself, the twins—and a few more volunteers—play with the animals, talk and interview potential adoptive families and I try to keep my focus on the work.
Not on the huge open field where burly men from around the country are engaged in all sorts of lumberjacky, highlander sort of competitions.
It’s not the games I’m so interested in.
It’s Miller. And whenever I’ve caught a glimpse of him, way off in the distance, I can barely breathe. He’s not just huge. He’s sturdy in just the right way. There are bigger guys at the competition, like The Mountain from GoT big.
Miller’s not small by any stretch, but he’s just the right mix of hard muscle and thickness, without being grotesque. Whenever I’ve been close to him, I feel small. I’ve battled eating disorders since I was little and although I no longer obsess about my weight, I still have to be careful to keep that side of me in check. I run a couple of times a week, and it helps to balance my calorie intake by forcing me to get some nutrition. I know if I didn’t focus on fitness, rather than food, there’s a danger it would get out of hand again.
There’s a huge cheer and applause that comes from the field, and I see what must be most of the competitors gathering around one of them. It’s Miller.
They are swatting him on the back, high fives and fist bumps, which tells me he’s won.
Again.
He’s holding up a trophy as the cheering ebbs.
At my size, I’m sure he could hold me against the wall, kiss me...fuck me...do whatever he wants with me like a little doll. I let the thoughts take me away for a moment as my face gets hot and the tension between my legs has me drawing a shaking breathe.
“You okay?” Curtis comes up next to me where I’m standing behind some of the cat and kitchen cages. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just had a very special private moment.”
“Shut up,” I snap back, and he laughs.
I’m hopeless.
Chapter Two
Miller
“FIVE WINS IN FIVE YEARS.” Doyle McGuinness smacks me on the back as the rest of the competitors disburse, and the crowd files down from the bleachers. “That’s what you get for being a perfectionist.”
I grunt a small response to my friend, rubbing my hands down the front of my black t-shirt, but the win isn’t what’s on my mind.
It’s been a grueling three days of competition as usual, but it’s not the games that are what’s been hard.
It’s my dick.
And knowing she was going to be here today.
I barely slept. Between jerking off and wandering around my cabin imagining what it would be like to have her there next to me, I couldn’t even mentally prepare for the final day of the competition.
I drank five cups of coffee before I left the cabin this morning, knowing I’d need the kick after not sleeping all night.
I’ve watched her for three years. Ever since she moved to town with her asshole father—who has become my nemesis. It’s no wonder she hates me. He and I can’t seem to agree on the color of shit, let alone battle it out for construction contracts and easement restrictions.
He’s an arrogant dick, who blew into town from the big city thinking he was going to set all of us small-minded folks straight.
Well, he didn’t have that quite right. He may be some big shot back in Denver, and his money buys him land and some influence even in this small town. But I don’t cotton to intimidation, and he and I are coming straight to a tipping point where something is going to blow. And if it’s me, he better get the fuck out of my way.
I grip the top of my head as Doyle stares at me. “You okay there, bud?”
He looks down toward where the art show booths, the elephant ear and cotton candy stands are, and then looks back at me, shaking his head.
“Go fucking talk to her, man. This is so stupid.”
“What? Shut up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I fucking do know what I’m talking about. Katarina Harcourt. She’s down there and the guy who’s not afraid of anything can’t go talk to the kitten lady? Come on. What’s the worst that could happen?”
She could tell me to get lost.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I don’t? I haven’t been around you for going on ten years? The last three, whenever she’s within sniffing distance, you look like you’re about to go postal on anyone close to her. You forget where you are, what you’re doing.”
He’s right, but I’m not going to tell him that. We’ve known each other a long fucking time, he is one of my construction managers, and although I would never say the words, he’s also my best friend.
“You’re full of shit.” I bark back as we make our way to where our duffel bags sit on the side of the grassy area, where the competition just wrapped up. We grab our stuff and walk over to where our trucks are parked next to each other and stow the gear.
I won today, in spite of myself. All I could think about was Katarina. My kitten. I knew the shelter was going to have an adoption event today and that she would be there. I’m a fucking hard ass, but when I’m around her, I can’t form words.
I can’t think.
I’m sure she thinks I’m an imbecile.
As well, an asshole, because that’s what I think of her father and the feeling is mutual.
“You wanna get a beer?” I turn to Doyle, who gives me a disgusted look.
“No. I don’t want to get a fucking beer with you.”
“Fine.” I grit out, opening the door to my truck as he shoves it closed and I growl, my brow tight.
“Listen to me, dick weed.” He starts, and if he was anyone else, I’d have him flat on the pavement for talking to me like that. “Two months ago, I was sitting in a hospital room holding Jenny’s hand, praying to fucking God for the first time in my life, that if he would just let her live, I would never waste another day. Another opportunity.”
There’s a twinge in my chest when I look at his eyes, seeing the remnants of pain there. He’d been in love with Jenny since high school. They had ups and downs. She moved away, went to college. Moved back and for six months, he didn’t speak to her.
Then, one day, she came down with a virus that nearly killed her. Settled in her lungs, made her brain swell. It was rare, something she caught from a crazy bug bite when she returned from a trip to Costa Rica. But it nearly took her out.