“Sure. Yes, you bet,” he replied as evenly as his thumping heart would allow. Man, she looked good. “We’d love the company, but we’re just going to the vet, and—”
Ashley’s door shut with a resolute snick behind her. She went straight to Mrs. Harrison’s side and took hold of the older woman’s hand. “I couldn’t help overhearing what you said, and I’m so sorry Chipper’s sick. Let’s get you to your fur baby right now.”
Tripp eyed his pretty neighbor. He was right. She’d been standing on the other side of her door. Better yet, she honestly cared about Mrs. Harrison. Good on her.
Chapter Seven
If there was a more excruciating torture than sitting alongside this beautiful woman with her tantalizing hip and sexy thigh pressed tight against his, Tripp didn’t know it. But there he was, in his truck with Mrs. Harrison riding shotgun, and Ashley seated between them, her arms wrapped protectively around the clunky messenger bag in her lap. Now Tripp knew why. She carried one of those tiny cans of mace in that bag. Despite her stodgy, man-style uniform, nothing could stop the heat building between them.
Man, he ached to tell her who he was, that he was the guy who’d saved her. But vigilantes lived two very separate lives for a reason. Bringing her into his confidence could get her hurt, might even make her an accomplice or get her killed.
Sitting this close made her nervous. She tried not to touch him more than she had to. But in the confines of his Chevy pick-up, with the rear floor and seat still stuffed with boxes he needed to unpack from his move, there wasn’t room to spare. Not that Tripp didn’t appreciate every bump and turn that brought Ashley closer. He truly did. He just wished he’d changed into jeans when he’d grabbed a clean shirt before this road trip. Because now, every turn, corner, and stop his truck made, brought the warmth and softness of her against his bare leg. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to accompany Mrs. Fields into the vet’s office. There’d be no way to hide what was happening between his legs.
Worse, the ends of Ashley’s long ponytail brushing over his arm when she moved, were as soft as angel kisses. That comparison alone should’ve been the buzzkill he needed to calm the hell down. She was an angel, but he was as fallen a devil as a man could get. He’d been to war, had done what soldiers the world over did. He’d served his country, and in the course of that service, he’d ended his share of high-value targets. Didn’t regret one of them.
A soldier didn’t earn his Ranger tab without facing the two-mile buddy-run in full ACU, Army combat uniform, while carrying a full Camelback, a loaded M4, and a shitload of ammo. He’d destroyed the Malvesti Obstacle Course of the Benning Phase at Camp Rogers, Fort Benning, Georgia. Including the infamous worm pit, a shallow, mucky obstacle course covered with knee-high barbed-wire. The only way through the pit was to crawl over the wire or worm under it, either on his belly or back. He’d survived the plunge into Victory Pond, too, damn it. As well as parachute jumps and extractions where he’d been hooked, along with other Ranger wannabes, dangling from the belly of a low-flying helo.
Not to mention he was outright breaking the law every night as Alexandria’s one and only vigilante. But he wasn’t so sure he’d survive one more minute of not kissing Ashley Cox’s mouth. He was a pig, but she was a luscious breath of sweet, fresh air sitting beside him. The epitome of the girl next door, against his thigh and nearly under the arm that wanted to curl around her and keep her safe.
There went his hero complex, but so what? She was a tiny, fragile thing, and he had a gut feeling she might just need someone like him in her corner. He hoped so. It’d be just as nice to have her in his corner. In his apartment. In his bed...
His head sure was working against him today. To keep his mind from planning down to the last detail how great the tender body beside him would feel beneath him, Tripp focused on being the safest, most anal driver on the road. It would’ve worked if his nostrils weren’t striving to inhale every last atom of the cherry-scented shampoo she’d used, or the powdery fragrance of her deodorant. All those unique, womanly pheromones drove a man crazy. Damn, he should’ve traded his workout shorts for jeans. He could’ve hidden the spike in his pants then. Now? Not so much.
Mrs. Harrison leaned forward and pointed across Ashley’s chest to the red-brick building tucked under two stately magnolia trees on the other side of the street. “There. The vet’s office is over there.”
Thank God in heaven for small miracles. Dutifully, Tripp flipped his turn signal, then patiently drummed his fingertips on the wheel, waiting for opposing traffic to clear. Once he’d crossed the two lanes of traffic into the vet’s parking lot, he pulled into the stall closest to the office door.
“You can’t park here,” Ashley murmured. “It’s for handicapped people only, Mr. McClane.”
“Right. Got that. Not parking. Just dropping Mrs. Harrison close enough, so she won’t have far to walk. And it’s Tripp, not mister anything. Just Tripp.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” She bit her bottom lip. “That was thoughtful. I’m Ashley. Just Ashley.”
Putting the truck in park, he cast a sideways glance at Ashley. Did she think he was a total jerk just because some piece of paper said so? Never mind. He didn’t have time to care about that nonsense right now. In two seconds, he was out of the truck and opening Mrs. Harrison’s door. The step down from his front seat was too high for a delicate, older
