Helen Myers - Groomed for Love

As she pondered that, she wiped down and disinfected everything with even more gusto. By the time she got MG out of the RV and went to put the kenneled dogs on leashes, she was ready to dismiss the experience as an anomaly.

“I’m being ridiculous, MG,” she said to her dog. “If I start breaking into song like I’m in a Broadway musical, bite me.”

The long-legged retriever-mix pranced beside her, happy to be with her again and about to get some exercise. Having full awareness of what the word bite meant, she barked, ending her commentary with a throaty growl.

Rylie laughed. “I knew I could count on you.”

* * *

He would have said something. Even as he went to work on Tuesday, Noah continued to dwell on how yesterday had ended at the clinic. He’d been left...unsatisfied.

Rylie slammed the car door in your face!

Okay, he amended, so she’d shut it without giving him a chance. The point was that he would have at least thanked her again, to further prove that he wasn’t the curmudgeon she seemed to believe he was. Why were they rubbing each other the wrong way? Such...friction was new to him. Usually, he had no problem getting along with people. Granted, he tended to be measured, cautious, but then he had his family name to respect and protect, and now his position with the D.A.’s office. But he wasn’t inaccessible, let alone mean-spirited or cruel. He was someone who kept up with fraternity brothers from college and classmates from law school, for pity’s sake!

Entering the courthouse, he already knew that Vance would be out of the office again. His boss had called while Noah had been driving to town to confirm that he was still feeling poorly, even though he’d been to see his doctor. That meant Noah would be fielding calls and handling several matters on behalf of the D.A.’s office, including having lunch with a civic group that had been scheduled months ago. That would be no problem, since he had made similar presentations before. This was a great opportunity to make more residents of the area aware of who he was.

Even with all that on his plate, Rylie’s face appeared in his mind. Noah all but groaned in frustration.

It’s because you touched her.

The contact had been clinical, inevitable due to the need to keep the dog still. There was no reason for him to read something sensual into the experience, but tell that to his body. It had responded as though he’d walked face-first into a furnace, and he’d remained thrown off balance long into the night, until he’d indulged in a second shower for relief. Thank goodness his mother’s car was back in good shape, and Ramon would take over these clinic trips again. Clearly, he needed to protect himself from his own imagination.

After starting the coffee machine, Noah went to his desk with his collection of newspapers that were stacked daily on the hallway bench outside the office door. But as he sat down, the computer’s dark monitor screen was what captured and kept his attention. It stared back at him in bold daring, a portal to...what?

Your best opportunity to find answers. Go ahead. You know you want to.

He checked his watch. The empty office would stay quiet like this for another half hour at most. Temptation won.

Noah booted up the machine. Just one more search, he told himself. He didn’t want to dream about her again tonight. Yes, she was cute, yes, she was a new experience to him, but was it sane to become obsessed with a woman who lived in an RV!

As soon as that censorious thought formed in his mind, he felt shame, only to get defensive. Experience had taught him that few people had the Teflon skins attributed to some Washington, D.C., politicians that they could survive scandal or the weight of relentless gossip. If he was going to run for office, the shortest distance to that goal was to choose your society with circumspection. He needed some information, any excuse to get Rylie Quinn out of his head.

Try the social networks.

Although he grimaced at the thought of venturing there, Noah knew as friendly as Rylie was, she probably lived every free moment on Facebook and Twitter. It didn’t take but seconds before he logged in to his own account—a tedious requirement for him per office policy to make the public feel connected—and typed her name in the search box. Her page came up within seconds.

There was no ignoring the jump in his pulse as he clicked through her photo album, seeing that at her high-school graduation, she’d had waist-length hair. His next thought was that she had a ton of friends, including guys still carrying a crush, and a very proud family, he thought after seeing her parents gaze at her in each photo with love and adoration. Noah would never do the profiles or answer the idiotic questions they asked, but Rylie didn’t seem to have a problem with them. Some, anyway. Actually, she had a contagious sense of humor, he thought, as he caught himself smiling, and then chuckling a few times. At other times, he was left transfixed.

She’d thought about joining Cirque du Soleil before heading for college to become a veterinarian. Being an athlete and cheerleader in high school explained why. In college, she’d continued with the cheerleading and had been the highflier. Noah suspected that’s also what came with being the smallest in the group. Having witnessed her questionable balance, though, he wondered if she’d spent more time on crutches and in slings than on the practice floor.

She loved potatoes and gravy, wildflowers, pears in rum sauce, and confessed to craving steak too much to become a vegetarian. Nevertheless, she vowed she would jump at any chance to be on someone’s fishing boat, and found lightning both terrifying and hypnotic.

Her dislikes were questions about dislikes. She didn’t want to focus on the negative; every day was a new opportunity to her.

Just as you thought, the original optimist—or an eternal kid.

Then why were there secrets in her eyes?

“Good morning!”

Judy Millsap entered, bringing with her the scent of lavender and doughnuts. Since many sheriff’s deputies, bailiffs and clerks passed their open door numerous times a day, Judy liked to bring a box of doughnuts to place by the coffee machine on the counter. Goodwill to all who passed. In her own way, Judy was the older rendition of Rylie—without the impishness—the ambassador of their office. At least Judy was a realist and mostly did it because—as she put it—“You get more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“Morning,” he called back to her. If his heart wasn’t entirely in the greeting, it was because he knew he would now have to get focused on his day job. “Everything okay on your end?”

“It will be after another big mug of caffeine. I was up half the night ridiculously transfixed on listening to coyotes. Say something nice to me before I take off these sunglasses and offend you with the feed bags under my bloodshot eyes.”

“You run the best office in East Texas,” Noah replied, truthfully.

After a moment’s hesitation, Judy slid off the glasses and gave him a pained look. “For an attractive and intelligent man, you are truly clueless, Noah Prescott.”

Startled, Noah sat back in his chair. “What?”

“You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“I just complimented you.”

With the smile of a patient mother, Judy replied, “You complimented what I do. That’s not who I am.”

He groaned inwardly. Women. Surely, Judy didn’t believe the two were separate. Not at this juncture of her life. She had been with the office for over twenty years, and there had been few eight-hour days, even in a small department like theirs.

“Have you been watching old Errol Flynn movies or that Don Juan something or other with Brando and Depp?” he asked, suspicious.