Love_Unleashed (2 page)

Cara wanted a take-charge guy who was sexually aggressive to the point of political incorrectness. She’d been honest with the man she’d dated before Ron, and he’d been shocked by her erotic fantasies. Not only had he refused to fulfill her needs, he’d called her “unnatural”, broken things off, and told his friends about her “slutty desires”. They must have told their buddies, too, because she’d gotten so many obscene phone calls, she’d changed her number. They’d even hassled her online. She’d had to close her social media site pages and get a new email address. It had been a nightmare.

Then she’d met “Rabid Ron” and thought he might be the “bad boy” for her. But behind closed doors, he was “Tame Ron”—a conventional, meat-and-potatoes kind of guy in bed. Still, they’d had wonderful times together in all other ways. And for a couple of months she’d tried to make things work, to just enjoy his gentle lovemaking, but in the end she couldn’t keep living a lie.

She wasn’t the sweet, demure woman he believed her to be. Cara hadn’t shared her dark fantasies with him because she knew what she’d see in his eyes—disapproval and disgust. So she’d just walked away. Unfortunately, her heart had stayed with Ron.

“Cara?”

Damning herself for a fool, she met his gaze. “If you foster Charlie, I’ll help you get started. You’ll need supplies, which the shelter pays for. You can give us back anything you haven’t used once Charlie’s adopted.”

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but she startled him into silence by handing him the crestie.

She gestured to Dalton’s Pet Supply. “The store’s assembled foster starter kits for the adoption fair. I’ll be back in a minute with one for a toy-sized dog.”

Cara strode swiftly to the store, trying not to feel like she was rabbiting away from an uncomfortable situation. She wasn’t a coward. She was simply removing herself from Ron’s proximity until she could get her emotions under control—a strategic retreat, so to speak.

Spotting the store manager, she explained to Mr. Blanchard what she needed. He nodded and went into the storage area to get the kit, which was actually several bags of supplies—from a Charlie-sized doggie bed and food to small treats and toys. While she waited, she paced in front of the check-out area, trying to settle her nerves.

Seeing Ron again could be a good thing. After all, she hadn’t been able to banish him from her heart or her dreams. After seven months apart, she still loved him. Maybe she needed this reminder of why she’d left. And maybe she was just trying to justify going home with him tonight.

Mr. Blanchard returned with two bags of supplies, the cost of which he added to the shelter’s store account. Thanking him, she carried the bags out into the late afternoon sun. The volunteers had packed up the rest of the tables and left in the first shelter van. Cara’s steps slowed as she caught sight of Ron standing next to the empty cage. He was holding the crestie carefully—if a little awkwardly—and talking to it. What a cute, incongruous pair they made.

Ron’s hands were almost bigger than Charlie’s body, making the full-grown dog look like a puppy in his cupped palms. He bent his face closer to the dog’s, and his windblown hair matched the dark chocolate color of Charlie’s liver spots. As Cara reached them, the crestie leaned up and licked the tip of the DJ’s nose.

Ron chuckled, the corners of his warm brown eyes crinkling into laugh lines. “I guess he likes me.”

Love and regret tightened her throat, and Cara swallowed them down. She was a sucker for a man who liked animals. And, darn it, she didn’t need another reason to want this gentle guy.

“Good thing he doesn’t know your DJ name is ‘Rabid Ron’.” She set the bags on the ground. “He’d be shaking more than normal.” Heck, she was trembling a little herself at the thought of being alone with Ron again. He might not be her fantasy lover, but he could kiss like a dream.
Get a grip. You’ll just be there for an hour or so until Ron is ready to care for the dog. Do this for the crestie.
“I can transport Charlie in the cage in my van to your place.”

“Does he have to go back in the cage?” Ron held the dog closer to his chest, and Charlie appeared comfortable being almost five feet off the ground.

Cara smiled despite her inner turmoil. Ron was already protective of the little crestie, so maybe he’d end up a pet owner instead of a foster parent. “I think we can come up with an alternative to the cage.”

She picked up the cage and set it in the back of van. Then she pulled out a padded dog carrier with more than enough room inside for the tiny crestie. “He can travel in your Jeep’s backseat in this. See, a seat belt goes through this loop at the top.”

Ron nodded, but there was a definite reluctance in the way he placed Charlie in the carrier. The dog whimpered when he shut the carrier’s screened door. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he reassured the crestie before adding to Cara, “I’ll go get my Jeep.”

He jogged to the side parking lot, where his dusty red Jeep was parked—a car that held memories of make-out sessions and good times. Heaven help her, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the play of muscles under Ron’s clothes as he moved. One area of their relationship that had never been a problem was her appreciation of his body. She missed touching and tasting it.

Had her time with Ron been so bad? A traitorous part of her heart whispered about second chances, but her brain warned of future unhappiness. She had to be true to herself, and Ron deserved a woman who wasn’t hiding behind a prim facade.
You could just tell him what you want.
Yeah, look how well that had gone with her previous boyfriend. Cara couldn’t stand the thought of seeing the same contempt in Ron’s eyes.

“Oh, Charlie, I’m in deep doo-doo,” she murmured to the dog. “You better be a good chaperone tonight.”

Chapter Three

“You better be a good matchmaker tonight, Charlie.” Ron drove his Jeep into the garage at his ranch house, as the dog yipped in response. “I’m counting on you. Cara definitely prefers people who like animals.”

He glanced in his rearview mirror as he shut off the engine. Cara pulled the shelter van into his driveway and stopped behind him. God, it was good to have her back at his place. But that was only the first step in his still-formulating plan.

He got out of the car and freed the dog carrier from the seatbelt. He looked through the carrier’s screened door at the tiny dog. “
Mi casa, su casa
…at least until Cara finds you a new home.” Why did that idea make him frown?

Cara walked into the garage, her slow steps at odds with her tight smile. Was it that difficult to be here with him? Ron’s determination to get to the bottom of their break-up doubled.

“Why don’t you take the carrier,” he suggested, handing it to her, “and I’ll get the supplies?”

She nodded and carried the crestie into the house, apparently remembering he never locked the door between his garage and mud room.

Déjà vu hit hard. Toward the end of the time they’d dated, she’d practically moved in, and he’d loved having her in his home. Sure, he’d been on his best behavior to impress her—keeping the house clean and throwing the dirty laundry in the hamper. He’d hoped they could relax more around each other as they settled in, but she’d left before that could happen. Sighing, Ron shut the garage door, grabbed the two bags of supplies, and followed her.

Cara had placed the carrier on the counter between his dining area and kitchen. Given the expression on her face, he’d bet he wasn’t the only one who was having flashbacks of their time together. He shut the door and set the supplies on his oak table. “I didn’t know I’d be having company, or I’d have cleaned up.”

She waved her hand as though brushing his comment aside. “You’re the neatest bachelor I know.”

A hot jolt of jealousy flashed through him at the thought of her with other men. “Just how many bachelors do you know?” Her startled gaze met his. Great, he was being a jerk—not a smart addition to his plan. Ron apologized before she could speak. “Sorry, really, I’m sorry. Let’s pretend I didn’t just say that, okay?”

She nodded, her expression wary.

Damning himself for making her ill at ease, he emptied the first bag onto the table. “I appreciate your coming over to get Charlie acclimated.” He picked up the multi-colored doggie bed. “Where should we put this?”

“Well,” she faced the hallway, “if you’re still using your second bedroom as an office, it could go in there.”

He carried the circular dog bed into the room at the end of the hall, gratified to see Cara hesitate before the open door to his bedroom. Was she remembering their lovemaking? He’d always given her romance, treating her with gentle care and seeing to her orgasm before his own. Okay, so he would’ve liked to have been more adventuresome in the sack, but he didn’t mind curbing himself so he could have Cara in his life. At least he knew his sexual performance couldn’t be the reason she’d broken it off.

Cara followed him into his office, then took the dog bed from him and placed it on the floor near the windows. The last rays of the day filtered through his blinds to form a pattern across the bed. “I think he’ll like it here once he gets used to your house.” She laid a small rawhide chew on the bed.

As they walked back to the kitchen, he asked, “Do you think Charlie needs to go outside to, you know, do his business?”

Cara’s sexy mouth curved into the first real smile she’d offered since entering his home. “You won’t have to worry about that until morning. While you were wrapping up the adoption fair, I gave Charlie the chance to use the grass before putting him back in the cage.” She stopped by the dining table and indicated the supplies. “In that bag is a leash, which clips onto his collar, so you can walk him. There’s also a pooper scooper.”

Ron groaned, eliciting an honest-to-God giggle from Cara.

“Fostering isn’t all petting and doggie kisses,” she teased.

He stifled another groan when the mention of petting and kisses steered his mind back to his big plan. Somehow, once they settled Charlie for the evening, he needed to put the second step of his plan into action—getting Cara back in his life for good.

She unpacked the second bag of supplies, including food and water bowls. “This explains the basics of fostering,” she held up a tri-fold brochure, “and tells you how often and how much to feed a dog the size of a crestie. You can also dole out these doggie treats for good behavior, like coming when you call.”

Ron took the bowls and filled them with the specified amount of dry dog food and water. Then he placed them on the hardwood floor in the corner of the dining room. “Can Charlie check out his new digs now?”

“Sure.” She opened the carrier and lifted out the crestie. When she placed Charlie next to his dishes, he sniffed them, then did a circuit of the room. Finally, he returned to his bowls and started delicately crunching on his food.

Ron smiled. “At least he likes the grub here. Hopefully the rest of the place will meet his approval.” He opened the refrigerator. “Speaking of food, would you like something? A sandwich? Or I could order a pizza?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No thanks. But I could use something to drink.”

“I have the chardonnay you like.”

Cara tilted her head, her expression hard to decipher. “Do you have any beer?”

“Ah, sure.” He pulled out two imported beers and twisted off the caps. Then he reached into the cupboard for a glass for hers.

“I don’t need a glass.” She was frowning when she picked up a beer and took a swig.

God, when had a woman sipping a beer become so damned sexy? He’d never seen her drink from a bottle before, and the phallic image shot straight to his cock, which had been pretty much dormant since Cara’s blow-off—a very bad choice of words—months before.

“Do you have any chips?” she asked, even as she checked the cabinet where he stored potato chips. Without waiting for an answer, she opened the bag and grabbed a handful of chips. “The salt goes great with beer.” She popped several in her mouth and chased them down with beer.

Her clear oral enjoyment was earthy and eye-opening. This was the woman who primly dipped French fries into ketchup one at a time and ate fried chicken with a fork and knife, instead of her fingers. When had she started eating like, well, like him?

She offered him the bag. He munched on chips as he watched Charlie finish his dinner and wander out to his living room. The dog explored the room, sniffing everything. The second-hand furniture wasn’t in any danger from this petite dog, unless he decided to mark his new territory. Soon Charlie headed down the hall to check out the bedrooms.

They followed the crestie and watched him as he climbed into his dog bed and enthusiastically chewed his rawhide strip.

“He’s had a long day,” Cara said. “Let’s let him chill out by himself.” She motioned Ron out of the room and closed the door to the office.

“Think he’ll get lonely?” Ron walked back to the kitchen and reached into the chip bag again for another handful.

“Charlie’s a mature dog and used to being alone in his run at the shelter. He’ll bark if he wants your attention.” Cara ate more chips, but instead of wiping her hand on a napkin, she sucked the salt from her fingers.

Christ almighty
. Ron went lightheaded as every bit of his blood abandoned his brain. Memories of her mouth on his cock crowded his mind, even though he’d rarely allowed her to pleasure him that way. He knew a lot of women only performed oral sex as a favor to a man, and he’d refused to let her make that sacrifice. He’d preferred orally enjoying her, when they’d indulged in foreplay.

Cara took one last sip of beer and set the empty bottle on the counter. “Well, I guess you’ve got all you need to foster Charlie. If you have any questions, you can give me a call.”

She was leaving. His blood-deprived mind searched for a way to keep her here and failed. Dammit to hell. If he couldn’t stop her, at least she could tell him one thing before she walked out of his life a second time.

She started to stride past him, but he gripped her arm. “I have one important question right now. Why did you dump me?”