She choked back a sob. “Yes. I’d like that. Thank you.”
While the vet assisted Mrs. Harrison to her feet and out the door, Tripp bowed his chin to his chest and stared at the floor. Didn’t matter how it came, Death was always a hard motherfucker.
“You’re very kind to her.” Ashley said that as if it surprised her.
He kept his eyes down. Gray flecked linoleum tile shouldn’t look so interesting, but he couldn’t risk getting teary-eyed in front of this neighbor. “Yeah, well, I try. She reminds me of my mom, alone in the world, dealing with crap all by herself. Didn’t know her name was Barbara until today, though. Been calling her Mrs. Harrison ever since I met her. Out of respect, you know. She’s a class act.”
“How did you meet her?”
Tripp lifted his head and looked straight into Ashley’s eyes. “I need you to understand why my name’s on that notification list first.”
She crossed both arms over her chest, the compassion on her face turned to stone. “Do tell.”
“Did you even look at the results of my last physical that I slipped under your door?”
“Results can be invented or fixed.”
Tripp inhaled a long, slow breath, letting his belly expand. He had to give her that. “Well then, how about I give you the phone number of the doctor who gave me that physical, and let her confirm what I’m trying to tell you?”
“Anyone can pretend to be a doctor over the phone.”
Exasperated, he ran a hand over his head, then folded his arms across his chest again. “Okay, then, come with me after I take Barbara home. I’ll gladly introduce you to Doc Fitz. You saw the date on my report. You had to have seen her name in the signature block.”
Ashley shook her head. “I only came with you because Mrs. Harrison needed another woman to lean on.”
“You mean to protect her from evil men like me who prey on innocent women like you.” This was going nowhere fast. He rolled one shoulder to ease the tension knotted in his neck. “That’s damned sanctimonious. Condemn a man before you have all the facts.”
“I’ve heard every excuse there is.” She ran her fingertips over her lips.
Tripp’s cock noticed. Ashley had lush, pink lips and a perfectly indented Cupid’s bow that drew his attention. She had a way of pursing them before she talked, like she needed to warm them up to speak. He wanted to warm them up.
“Give me one more chance to prove I’m innocent?”
Ashley looked away, studying the color poster of cat breeds on the wall across from the bench. “Just go see your family doctor, Mr. McClane, or make an appointment at the clinic. Do what you’re supposed to do. Get a blood test.”
“Better yet…” Tripp offered his last sure shot. “I’ll introduce you to my damned sister. She’s the one who submitted my name. Trish thinks it’s funny to smear me every chance she gets. If you guys did a little research before you turned into judge, jury, and executioners, you’d discover the woman who listed me as one of her johns is Trish McClane, aka Trixie, Dixie, Ginger, or hell…” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m not sure what name she goes by now. But… hold on. I know.” He pulled his wallet out of his workout pants’ pocket and thumbed through his small collection of coupons and photos until he came across the one his mom had sent last Christmas. “This is her and that’s my mom. Notice the resemblance? She’s my twin. Look familiar?”
Ashley met his gaze then, those blues finally curious. But for the wrong reason. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Why should I? I’m innocent. I don’t pay for sex. Never have. Not going to start now.”
“And I’m not the person who treats people or collects this kind of confidential information,” she snapped. “One of our doctors does. I’m just the public health educator, the one who gets to track down men like you when you don’t respond to official notices.”
“What notices?”
“The letters and emails the doctor sent. All the phone messages she left. You’ve never answered one of them.”
“I’ve been out of town! Seattle, remember?”
“Most people can still access their email and cell phone messages when they travel. I checked the records. You’ve received plenty of both!”
He lowered his voice. “You just can’t believe I might be innocent, can you?” Man, she was frustrating.
“Why should I?” She was up on her feet, her hands on her hips, and her lovely breasts heaving beneath the stiff placard of buttons on her boring man-shirt.
His gaze dropped to that prim line of plain white dots that left none of her neck showing between her buttoned-up collar and her chin. Long-sleeved, the dark cotton material was too thick to reveal the color or style of the bra beneath it. No sweetly pebbled nipples embossed the fabric. The thing’s pockets were just as unrevealing, and those drab pants were a size too-large. She wore nothing to enhance her look. No lipstick, eye-shadow, earrings, barrettes, or bows.
Ashley’s generic, gender-neutral get-up was probably her employer’s fault, but her closed mind was all on her. What had happened to this bright, exciting woman to cause such a dark opinion of men? Was it all men or just him? Why did she dress like a guy? Was it because of her job or was she trying to blend in?
Tripp stopped trying to convince her of his innocence. Next step. Show her.
Chapter Eight
Once again, Ashley was sitting front and center in Tripp’s monster truck. Her left hip and thigh were plastered against the very firm, very warm muscles of this bigger-than-life guy’s right side. He was starting to grow on her, not because of his ardent declaration of innocence, but because he treated Barbara,
