Running Free (Woodland Creek)(11)

“Give her to me. I saw her first,” I snap.

He turns to me and his eyes are wide with shock but he quickly schools it away, a scowl taking over. “Says who. She likes me,” he states and the little thing sets to licking his face as if to help him prove his point.

“I don’t care,” I growl. “I was here first, so she’s mine.”

“Where were you between the hours of seven and nine last night?” he blurts out, his arms still firm around the puppy.

My anger explodes from me. “What? We’re talking about a damn dog not an alibi here. Hand me the dog and I’ll tell you where I was.”

Concern for the little thing paints his features and guilt washes over me. She seems quite happy to have him as her savior but she needs me. I can help her better than some lonely human ever could.

Lonely.

The guilt digs a little hole in my heart and decides to live there.

If she were to go home with him, he’d have a sweet little companion and she’d have a protector — a cop no less. All would be well in the world.

Until…

Until one day he’s petting her in his lap and she shifts before his eyes into a naked pre-teen girl.

Then what?

Fucking chaos, that’s what.

She needs me. End of story.





Gunnar

I’m curious as to why she’s so damn adamant about adopting this puppy. It’s like they’re connected and it’s apparent she’s not about to budge.

“Tell me where you were and she’s yours,” I promise.

She lets out a relieved breath and blurts out her response. “The bar.”

I roll my eyes at her and shake my head. “Not good enough, Frankie. Do you have any witnesses to corroborate your whereabouts?”

Her glare is wicked but I don’t back down from it. She needs to answer the damn question.

“You’re annoying, Gunnar. Jesus. Ask anyone. All the regulars. Gordon Lightfoot was there all night — he’ll back me up. Now give her to me.”

I’m thankful to know she has an alibi. I didn’t want to think she was the murderer but I’m a cop and we don’t discount anything. Even the really f*cking hot ones.

With a groan, I pass the puppy to her. Frankie seems relieved to finally have the dog in her arms and her protective nature comforts me.

“What are you going to name her?”

Her eyes fly to mine in confusion before she plasters on a fake smile. “Um, Curly Sue.”

“Okay then. Curly Sue it is. I was thinking something a little fiercer like Blacky or Killer or Ankle Biter, but Curly Sue works too.” I grin at her.

Her lips twitch as she tries to keep from smiling. God, those supple pink lips. My mind takes a nosedive into the gutter and I clear my throat in hopes to squash the semi hard-on I was getting at imagining those lips all over me.

“Curly Sue seems vicious to me. I bet she runs this kennel when nobody’s watching,” she muses and strokes the little pup behind the ears.

I chuckle. “Right. I’ll get her an application for the K9 academy. In the meantime, why don’t you and Killer, er, Curly Sue help me pick out a pup.”

Frankie smiles, this one genuine, and I decide right then that I’ll do more of whatever it takes to see those smiles more often.

“I saw a cute white dog over there,” she says and points in the direction of another group of dog crates.

But a yelp in the other direction grabs my attention. The little guy I first saw sends me the saddest pick me expression a dog can give and I cave. Stalking back over to him, I ignore all the rest so I don’t take home the whole damn animal shelter.

“Hey there little guy,” I say and pull the frail dog from the cage. His tail thumps wildly and he attacks my face. With kisses, that is. “You’re a cute little thing.”

I turn to cast a glance at Frankie who watches me with a serene smile. Her serene smiles are beautiful too. Hell, even when she’s pissed and frowning, she’s gorgeous.

“Are you blind?” she teases. “He’s not cute. Quite pitiful looking if you ask me.”

Scoffing, I shake my head. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking you. Me and Cutie Pie were meant to find one another. He’ll make for a great guard dog, I’m sure. Isn’t that right?”

He licks my face like mad and I chuckle. I hadn’t meant to show up and adopt a dog today but when I learned the make and model of her truck last night and then saw it here today, I knew I had to talk to her. The lie fell from my lips easily but when I saw her ferocity to find her puppy, I knew my lie would soon become truth.

“Cutie Pie?” she squawks. “Seriously?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I meet her astonished gaze. “Yep. So when can Cutie Pie and Curly Sue have a play date?” I waggle my eyebrows and earn myself the cutest f*cking giggle in the whole world.

She thinks I’m kidding.

I’m so not kidding.




Curly Sue is no longer the frightened pup she was hours ago. She runs wild and free with Cutie Pie in my backyard. I was glad when I was able to talk Frankie into bringing them back to my place for a playdate. After a messy bath to clean the pups up, we let them loose out back to run off some energy.

Frankie is one of the most guarded women I have ever met. She hides behind her fierce outer exterior but something innocent and sweet is what she protects. I know this because she’s let it peek out a few times.