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"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "Do you run?"

  His lips curled up. "Sometimes."

  Not sure what that meant, she turned the hose off and used the left-over water to soak three containers of cherry tomato plants. They made for a tasty snack as the wild rabbits had found out right away. She couldn't get upset, since they were so cute standing on hind legs to pluck a round tomato off the plant for breakfast. The babies were especially precious.

  "When is your next race?"

  She looked back up at Tanner, trying to read between the lines. He was probably just making small talk. "Saturday morning. The proceeds go to a church charity that buys shoes for underprivileged kids."

  "Two days." He took another sip, and seemed to come to a decision. "How do you get registered?"

  "You're going to run a 5K?" She blinked at him before stooping over to replace the bucket next to the hose. Considering his physique, she didn't think she would be required to drag him over the finish line. More than likely, he would outdistance her, leaving her in a cloud of dust.

  He sat forward, placing the can of soda on the ground to his side. "Sure. Why not?"

  Why not, indeed? Because she suddenly wanted to see his tight rear in shorts, fixate on those masculine muscles as they jerked and stretched from the motion, and hear his breathing escalate with exertion. Dang hormones. "I can give you the website to register or you can do it the morning of the race, but it'll cost you an extra five dollars."

  He nodded. "They give away T-shirts?"

  She plucked at her own. "Yeah. That's part of the entry fee. If you register early, you're guaranteed one and of the right size."

  "Good. I'll do that tonight, if you'll get me that website?"

  "Give me just a minute." She headed inside, leaving the sliding door open in her wake. Finding a piece of scratch paper, she jotted down the website for him. Returning to the patio, she paused as a wide smile spread over her face.

  Hercules decided to meet and greet Tanner. His way. Which meant not only did you get big doggie kisses, but he laid across your lap if you happened to be sitting. He simply didn't realize how big he was.

  A giggle escaped her. "Oh, Hercules."

  Tanner grinned up at her from over the dog's back as Hercules's front legs and chest covered most of his lower body. "He seems friendly."

  "Most of the time." She walked over, giving a tug on Hercules's collar to make him get off. "Surprising since he had a bad experience with people."

  Tanner patted the dog, watching her as he spoke. "What happened to him?"

  Oakley sat in her fold-out deck chair. Hercules hurried over, plopped down in front of her, and looked back as if to remind her that he needed attention. Absently, she stroked his head and back. "Someone dumped him in the middle of nowhere. By the time a good Samaritan found him, he was nothing but skin and bones, nearly half his ideal weight. A Great Dane rescue took him in, spent months nursing him back to health and putting the weight back on him while treating him for heartworms too. I adopted him a few months ago. We're still working on his weight issue. He's been nothing but gracious and happy the whole time."

  "You'd never know he had such a rough time by the looks of him now."

  She grinned at her neighbor, rubbing the floppy ears of her pet. "He eats me out of house and home, but he's the best dog."

  Tanner shot her a mischievous grin. "And leaves you very large presents in the yard to clean up?"

  Oakley rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to bring up the least favorite part of dog ownership. "Pooper scooper extraordinaire at your service."

  He chuckled.

  Her breath caught as she watched amusement transform his face. The lines of fatigue still existed, but faded enough to make his appearance much younger. Bright white teeth flashed in the fading late spring sun. Dark eyes sparkled with life. A strong chin gave him an appearance of pending stubbornness or tenacity. Probably both, she decided.

  She handed over the paper, noticing the deep tan on his arms. He worked with those large hands, she could tell that.

  With nothing much left to say, she cleared her throat and turned away from his piercing eyes. "Well, I'd better call it a night."

  He watched her but remained mute.

  "Welcome home… again."

  She turned to go in when his voice stopped her.

  "Why don't you come to my side? I have this delicious pound cake to share."

  Tilting her head, she watched his facial expressions intently, surprised by the offer. "I figured you would be busy unpacking, shopping, and catching up with sleep." She chewed her bottom lip, uncertain about this new offer by a man she had literally known less than an hour.

  "I think I can spare a few minutes for dessert." The low tone teased and caressed, as if he beckoned a shy flower to open before his eyes.

  What would it hurt to eat with him? Dessert one day, sex the next. She didn't want to give him the wrong impression about her, since she had absolutely no intention of getting naked with him and swapping bodily fluids. Steeling herself, Oakley shook her head. "No, thanks. I really have a lot of work to catch up on." With that said, she turned and retreated into the house.

  Chapter 3

  Tanner stood and watched her go, more intrigued than ever. He easily read the indecision marked loudly with her changing facial expressions. Yet, in a heartbeat, she shut him down. Her eyes appraised him just as he had with her earlier, and he felt confident she liked what she saw. Must be the timing. That would explain her reaction. She didn't trust him, having just met him, and didn't want to roll the dice. Mentally, he shrugged. She would come around. They always did. Even the shy, naïve ones.

  He glanced down at the scrap paper, pondering his impulsive response when she mentioned the upcoming race and who would benefit from the entry fees. Helping kids get a new pair of shoes that they might not receive otherwise caught his attention. He'd never considered that people raced for reasons other than to win prizes. The idea that some just do it to raise money for charity made him consider the world a marginally better place.

  Heading indoors, he locked up for the evening, purposely leaving the curtains open in case Oakley reappeared. She provided scenery, he would give her that.

  Sitting down at the kitchen table, he pulled the laptop in front of him. Firing it up, he soon located the event's website, entering the 5K with a few quick mouse clicks. The deed felt right, and the run would do him good.

  He stayed in shape out of habit and necessity. Ever since high school sports, he strove to stay in tip-top form. Sure, he might have slowed a hair over the years and suffered a few injuries that would certainly haunt him with arthritis later, but he managed to survive the intense rigors of his job. Much like the Marines, slackers didn't make it in his line of work. Only, with his current status, 'didn't make it' meant a funeral and being buried six feet under. Not that dying frightened him. He no longer feared death since that harrowing day when he watched buddies and teammates fall before an onslaught of bullets and explosive power. Tanner lived on borrowed time and one day, just like his fallen comrades, he would meet a violent end in the line of duty. Maybe then he could find peace.

  Forcing aside those somber thoughts, he quickly checked through his email and financial accounts, catching up and checking to make sure everything looked legitimate, free of hacking and fraud. He snorted while deleting the typical male enhancement spam. Not like he needed help in that department.

  One email he immediately opened and typed a quick reply. His mother. He smiled at the thought of her struggling with new technology, learning computers just so she could communicate more often with him, her only son. She even took a class to help her understand the workings of software programs. That was years ago, when he'd first joined the Marines right out of high school. Now, she worked on computers daily, a requirement for any accountant. Each chance she got, she would send him a note, reminding him of her love and how much she missed him. He yearned for those emails. They helped him through the roughest times wh
en he couldn't be home to personally soak up her attention.

  Everything else looked up to speed, so he powered down the computer, softly closing the lid. No hot date. No pressing job to drag him away. No food in the house. Tension filled his body despite the lack of sleep. The outlet drew precedence over food. That meant a sexy young woman naked in bed. He knew just the place. Township Bar. Checking his wallet, he grabbed the car keys and headed out the front door to the waiting solid black SUV.

  * * * *

  Midmorning the next day, he jumped out of the car, grabbed up both sacks of groceries and headed toward the front door. After a long night with a beautiful young woman wrapped all around him in all sorts of flexible positions, he finally felt sated. He smiled slyly at the memory. Perhaps he would look her up again… or not. Spending too much time with one girl only encouraged her to become clingy and possessive. Attachments weren't for him. A roll in the hay and a kiss goodbye in the morning more closely described his style.

  He yawned. With his needs fulfilled, tiredness came to the fore. His Marine training allowed him to function well on just a couple hours sleep per night, but between the job he just finished and a long night of sex, his energy reserves hit empty. Maybe now he could fall into bed exhausted and sleep without horrid dreams interrupting. He hoped so.

  Tanner no more than got his door unlocked before Oakley stuck her head out, looking him over with a practiced eye.

  "There you are. Your friend stopped by about an hour ago. Wanted you to call."

  Suspicion and immediate concern stiffened his back, his mind kicking back into action. "Which one?" There shouldn't be any tails from their last mission. Every one of those vipers had been disposed of. For the life of him, he couldn't recall anyone else that might be gunning for him. However, someone could have managed to slip through the cracks, despite the precautions he took, the chance still existed.

  "You would ask me that." She dashed inside for a second while he headed toward his kitchen, placing the grocery bags on the countertop.

  She followed a moment later, carrying a piece of paper. Her sable ponytail swished behind her with each step, luring his attention to her nicely-shaped rear.

  He stared down at her and the crumpled reminder. "Poor memory?"

  She snorted. "More like too many blundering names for a single person. Here we go. Justin Adam Christian Kendall Aaron Sterling Smith."

  Quickly deciphering the basic common code, Tanner relaxed. J-A-C-K-A-S-S. His lips twitched. "Spoon."

  "Thank goodness."

  One of his eyebrows shot up at her odd response. Intrigued, he waited for her to clairify.

  She shrugged. "By the time you finished saying his name, you'd have already missed the off ramp."

  Tanner chuckled. Interesting sense of humor. Something nice to look at and entertaining. A neighbor worth keeping.

  "I made strawberry muffins this morning. I gave your friend a couple. Then Hercules ate yours." She grinned up at him. Her green eyes flashed with mischief.

  "Leaving me to starve, huh?"

  She nodded. "Yep." Taking a step closer, she sniffed. "The bar scene?"

  Startled by her accurate guess, he remained mute while unloading the groceries, setting each item on the counter.

  "Tomcats. Every one of them," she mumbled under her breath as she turned to leave.

  Not willing to argue when she obviously hit the nail on the head, he called after her, "Don't you work?" He expected her to be away from home this morning; it was a weekday, after all.

  "I teach online classes at Hilltop Junior College," Oakley said over her shoulder as she sashayed out his door.

  A moment later he heard a click, signifying she had returned to her side of the condo.

  Oakley taught junior college? The more he thought about it, the more it fit. The online classes she could manage from home, which explained why she seemed to be home all the time. Not a bad deal, he would imagine. Saves on gas money and allows for great flexibility for her running. Smart woman.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, he focused on putting away the newly purchased food items so he could hit the shower. After that, sleep called.

  Chapter 4

  Oakley propped her feet up on a spare fold-out chair, busily clicking away on the keys of her laptop. The sun shone brightly, but the temperatures had taken a dip with a recent cold front, making it feel more like a gorgeous early spring day than near summer. Certainly, the rare mixture of comfortable temperature and slight breeze dictated she plant herself outside, avoiding the den of darkness inside. Hercules roamed the backyard, sniffing here and there before finally settling down under a nearby shade tree to watch life in the form of squirrels and people walking the park trail a distance way pass him by.

  She loved her job and truly lucked out in finding it. Armed with two masters degrees, one in health, the other in nutrition, she approached Hilltop last year, hoping to land an instructor position since she loved the community and would only have a short drive to work; the smaller junior college appealed to her much more than a large university. They hired her to instruct online classes and she reveled in the luxury. Not everyone garnered the opportunity to work from home, make their own hours, and have more time off than a regular worker per week.

  Instructor pay through the college wasn't something to sneeze at, but Oakley taught a self-defense class through the local Y each week to supplement her income. Besides the extra money, it allowed her to practice her skills, socialize with people, and help others, particularly women, learn to defend themselves in case of emergency. She liked to believe her classes boosted their confidence, empowered them, and provided a necessary tool for those women in today's world.

  Her relationship with martial arts had begun her freshman year in college. Sarah, her overly shy roommate, had needed some social skills when it came to dealing with the opposite sex, so Oakley had taken it upon herself to introduce Sarah to Matt, a guy in her algebra class that had seemed nice and outgoing enough to make up for Sarah's uncertainty. Not only had she introduced them, but she'd set them up on a date.

  Unfortunately, Matt's outward appearance had covered up a monster underneath. Sarah had returned from her date, battered and bruised, following a horrid date rape. The images replayed through Oakley's mind as if it were yesterday.

  Oakley glanced up when Sarah walked back into their dorm room, stunned and shocked at the woman standing before her. Where a shy, but pretty young lady stood three hours earlier, antsy and eager for her first taste of dating, now stood a broken and aged woman. Fresh tears trickled down Sarah's puffy cheeks, both red with exertion and purple as a result of a violent beating. Her arms carried the same marks, though more widespread with her upper arms showing defined discoloration where fingers had dug deeply into the tissue. Hardly able to speak Sarah jerked away from physical contact, begging to be left alone and refusing to speak of the encounter.

  Sick to her stomach at what must have happened, Oakley quickly picked up the phone and dialed the authorities while Sarah pleaded for her to stop, to not tell another soul. Angry and frightened, she marched over to her bed and collapsed, curling up into a small ball, as if trying to block the world out. Keeping a close eye on her friend, Oakley gave campus security a quick rundown of what she knew and had seen, quickly agreeing to transport a wounded Sarah to the nearest hospital. A short battle ensued with Sarah refusing to leave the bed, let alone her room. With equal parts cajoling and commands, Oakley managed to bundle her up, walk her down the stairs, and out to her car. On the way to the hospital, she dialed Sarah's parents, delivering the horrifying news. Once again she heard the cries of her mother, roar of her father, and Sarah's muffled sobs.

  A few days later Sarah had returned to collect her belongings as she'd decided to drop out of school. A previously vivacious but quiet young woman had stood before her, thin and fearful, a fraction of the person she'd been. Oakley had blamed herself, despite Sarah's insistence that it wasn't her fault. If she hadn't gotten
the two together, Sarah wouldn't have suffered a trauma that would haunt her for life.

  The campus counselor, a compassionate middle-aged woman with experience in rape and sexual assault victims, had taken Oakley under her wing, leading her through the process of grieving for her friend and presenting coping mechanisms to help her deal with the tremendous guilt she carried on her shoulders each and every day. Those recommendations had included a self-defense class along with running.

  Oakley had thrown herself into both, clinging to the positives each one provided. Jogging had taken her mind elsewhere, relieved her stress, and allowed her to push out the negatives with each step. Self-defense had returned control over her life, along with confidence, and the gumption to know that if a crisis occurred, she could deal with it. Karate had offered more possibilities, but she'd never felt athletic enough to perform the high kicks and twists. Instead, she'd looked to the areas that required less physical strength, embracing both judo and taekwondo. She'd even enrolled in a few tai chi classes during her time at the university. If they'd had a minor for martial arts, she would have earned it easily with the number of hours devoted to the programs. It had garnered her certification, though, which allowed her to teach today.

  The incident left her with more than guilt. Afterward, she found herself looking at all men as if they were wolves waiting to grab up a young lamb for dinner. Her mind told her the thoughts were irrational and downright wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to get close to any level of trust with the opposite gender. The counselor had explained all those feelings were normal, pointing out other avenues to conquer her trust issues. For the most part, they worked. She didn't fear men. On the contrary, she interacted with male coworkers, friends, and students all the time without any difficulty. She simply hadn't found one that motivated her to get naked and sleep with them. She refused to pine away for a man the way her mother did for grandchildren. Instead, she enjoyed her life and the freedoms that other women her age didn't have with families to tie them down.