Trouble
Page 11

 Samantha Towle

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With a grunt he sits by the backdoor with a dopey look on his face.
“Bulldozer.” I laugh, shaking my head.
I pick up his bowl and cross the kitchen. On the way, I grab a beer from the refrigerator.
I turn on the outside light and open the back door, letting Dozer out. I set his bowl on the step, and his nose goes straight in it.
I sit on the step beside him and take a swig of my beer.
“We’ve got a guest, Dozer, and she’s hot, really hot, but flighty, so no sniffing round her as we don’t want to scare her away. And your ugly mug would definitely scare her.”
Dozer lifts his head, gives me a dirty look, and grunts.
“What?” I chuckle.
Then he farts.
“Fuckin’ hell, Dozer!” I bury my nose in my arm. “You stinky bastard! I bet you did that on purpose! There’s no way you’re sleeping in my bed tonight after that!”
I’m trying not to laugh because laughing means inhaling, and that dog’s farts are killer. Seriously.
Dozer shoves me hard with his head, knocking me to my side. He starts climbing on me, nudging my head with his wet snout.
“Get off me, you crazy fuckin’ dog!” I’m breathless, laughing, which means inhaling, and now I’m gagging. “Jesus, Dozer, you stink! Okay! Okay! I take it back, you can sleep in my bed! Now get the hell off me!” I shove at him.
Satisfied he’s won, he climbs off me and goes back to his food.
Sitting, I pick up my beer. “Crazy ass dog,” I mutter, chuckling.
I take another swig of beer, and lean back on my hand. I stretch my legs out and look up at the night sky.
Tonight is going to be a long night, knowing I’ve got Sex Goddess upstairs, in one of my beds, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. And the only person I’ll be sharing a bed with tonight is Dozer and his farts – awesome.
I bet Mia sleeps in those sexy negligées. The see through kind. Without any underwear.
Goddamn it to hell! It’s going to be a long two fucking weeks.
I’m going to have to find someone else to keep me busy for the time Mia’s here to ensure I keep my hands off her. Someone uncomplicated and easy. Won’t be hard to find. There are always plenty of girls here vacationing with their families, bored and in need of entertainment.
The kind of entertainment I’m perfect at providing.
I’ll go up to Mountain Resort tomorrow and find myself a new fuck buddy.
With that thought in mind, I go inside to take a cold shower to get me through the rest of the night.
Chapter Six
Mia
Noise. Someone is yelling.
“Shhh,” I grumble, burying my head into the pillow.
Still yelling.
“What in the world…?” I roll over, blinking open my eyes to the dim light coming in through the drapes.
Who is yelling? It’s coming from outside.
My heart pauses.
Forbes. Has he found me?
My pulse starts to thrum, setting my body on high alert.
Sitting bolt upright in bed, I listen.
It’s definitely a guy’s voice … but no, it’s not Forbes. I’d know his voice anywhere.
I breathe a sigh of relief, laying back down.
I’m figuring it must be Jordan. I wonder what he’s yelling about.
Glancing over at the clock, I see it’s 10am.
I reach for the glass of water on the bedside cabinet and take a sip. My throat is sore. I went hard on myself last night.
I look down at my right hand – the hand which helps me purge all of my grief and self-loathing. It’s sore and itchy. I rub my finger over the calluses on my knuckles, trying to relieve the itch. They’re caused by the catching of my teeth on my skin; years and years of making myself throw up have caused this scarring.
I’m thinking about getting some cream from my bag to ease the itch when I hear Jordan call out again.
Curiosity gets the better of me, so I climb out of bed and pad my way over to the sliding doors, grabbing my sunglasses on the way and slipping them on.
I pull the drapes back, unlock the door, and step out onto the porch.
The first thing I see is the lake. Guess this why it’s called the Lakeview room. The view is gorgeous.
Jordan yells again, so unexpected and so loud that I nearly jump out of my skin.
He’s a lot closer than I realized.
With a racing heart, I approach the railing and lean over to see what he’s yelling about.
My eyes find Jordan about twenty feet from the where I stand. His back is to me. He’s wearing black work boots, dark blue jeans, and a short-sleeved black t-shirt that shows the defined contours of his shoulders and arms perfectly.
He lifts a hand to his hair. The muscles in his arm flex under his tattoos as he runs his fingers through the dark strands. His hair looks so soft…
An image of me running my fingers through his hair flashes through my mind. I blink myself free.
He turns a little my way, lifting his hands to his mouth, he cups them and yells, what I think is, “Dozer!”
“Everything okay?” I call out.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” He spins on the spot hands clenched by his sides. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry.” I step back from the railing, but keep hold of it. My eyes are trained on his closed fists. “I just, uh, heard you yelling. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.” My mouth is nervous dry, so I moisten my lips with my tongue.
His eyes flicker down to his hands, then back up to me.
I see his hands relax, and he flexes his fingers out. “Sorry, yeah, I uh…” He looks over his shoulder, then back to me. “I can’t find my dog.”
He’s got a dog? I love dogs. Never had one, always wanted one.
“I let him out earlier, and he’s gone. He’s never disappeared like this before. He never strays far from the hotel.”
He sounds really worried.
“You need help looking for him?” The words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to consider them.
Jordan shoves his hands in his back pockets and looks down at his boots. He seems to be contemplating my offer. So am I.
What the hell possessed me to say that?
Jesus, am I that damaged that the thought of spending a little time with this seemingly okay guy to help him find his dog is so bad to comprehend?
Yes. Yes, I absolutely am.
Freeing a hand, Jordan holds his hair back from his face, tilts his head back, and stares up at me. “Sure.” He nods. “If you don’t mind.”
It’s not like I can retract my offer now.
“Of course I don’t mind.” I smile, ignoring the twinge of nerves in my stomach. “Just give me a minute to change and I’ll be right down.”
I retreat back into my room, shutting the sliding door behind me.
Standing still for a moment, I close my eyes and take in a deep, calming breath.
I can do this.
Then I open my eyes and quickly change into jeans and a t-shirt. I give my teeth a brush, slip my feet into my sneakers, run my fingers through my hair to tidy it—the beauty of short hair—and slip my sunglasses back on.
I quickly make my way through reception and out the main entrance. I walk around the hotel and find Jordan a little farther on.
I jog over to him. “Still no luck?”
“No.” He pushes his hair back, revealing his eyes.
Maple syrup. Stunning.
“He never disappears like this,” he reiterates.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him. What’s his name?”
“Dozer.”
Interesting name.
“Where do you want me to look?”
He points to the woods before us. “I’ve looked everywhere else. He wouldn’t normally go in there alone – he’s not real big on the woods, but maybe he was chasing a rabbit or something…” he trails off.
He wants me to go in there? With him.
Anxiety clamps down on my chest like a vice.
There’s something about the solitude of the woods and Jordan combined that isn’t sitting well with me.
Stop being a coward.
“Okay.” I swallow. “The woods it is.”
We walk quietly side by side heading for the trees.
“What kind of dog is he?” I ask, trying to occupy my overactive brain.
“A Mastiff—Dozer!” he calls out just as we break through the trees.
Copying him, I cup my hands around my mouth and call out, “Dozer!”
My voice echoes through the trees, chasing Jordan’s echo.
We both listen for a return of sound in the form of a bark, but nothing comes.
We walk on a little farther as Jordan and I continue to take turns calling for Dozer.
After a few minutes of walking and still no sign of the dog, I pick up on the sound of passing traffic.
“Are we close to a road?” I ask.
The look on his face – realization, then complete panic. It makes me panic.
Jordan breaks off in a sprint. I run after him, trying to keep up, but his legs are longer than mine and he’s a hell of a lot faster.
I finally catch up to him close to a clearing. He’s looking around, frantically calling for Dozer.
I’m seriously out of breath and have a stitch. I’m not the fittest of people.
Bending over, I brace my hands on my thighs as I try to catch my breath.
The sound of traffic is a lot louder up here, meaning we’re really close to the road.
Holding my quickened breaths, I stand up straight, and try to focus my hearing on any sound that could be related to a dog.
Nothing.
“How about you go that way,” I suggest, pointing to Jordan’s right. “And I’ll go this way.” I tilt my head to the left.
“Okay.” He takes a step back. “Just yell out if you find him. I’ll hear you.”
“I will … and I’m sure he’s fine, Jordan.”
He nods again, then turns, quickly walking away.
I turn, and start walking. “Dozer!” I call out.
Another car whizzes past.
I walk on a little farther in the silence, looking around for any signs. Then I call out his name again.
That’s when I hear a whimper. It’s quiet, but I definitely hear something.
My heart starts to beat faster. “Dozer!” I call out again.
A whine.
Following the sound, I move closer to the clearing … and that’s when I see him – a huge, fawn Mastiff laid over by a tree.
I run to him, yelling at the top of my lungs for Jordan, hoping to god he hears me.
I drop to my knees beside Dozer. He’s panting, chest heaving up and down, his body trembling.
“Oh my god, your poor boy. You’re gonna be okay, Dozer.” I hover my hands over him, unsure whether to touch him or not. I’m guessing he was hit by a car and crawled his way back here.
“I’m Mia. I’ve been helping Jordan look for you. He’s been really worried.”
Dozer lifts his head a little. Big brown eyes stare blankly up at me.
I should check him for injuries.
“Okay, Dozer, I’m not a vet, but I’m well on my way to becoming a doctor, and my father was a doctor, so I know what I’m doing. I’m gonna check you over, see what’s going on with you. That okay? Not that you can answer me…”