Chapter Five

Ford made a cooing, bird-type sound, and Violet froze in place, afraid to move or blink or even breathe.

That’s it. I’m going to have to climb the guy and strangle him.

Sure, she’d blow her cover, but she’d asked him to sneak her out, and instead he was drawing attention.

Addie was the only one who glanced their way, though.

A few hand signals from Ford, and Addie’s voice turned boisterous. She began loudly talking about how excited she was for the wedding, and the mayor and his wife would be there, right?

With Larry’s and Cheryl’s focus on Addie, Ford stood, his back to the counter. Then he pulled Violet to stand in front of him. His warm breath wafted over the shell of her ear, and goose bumps swept across her skin. “Walk with me now…”

He nudged the back of her foot with the toe of his sneakers, and they moved as close to in sync as you could with someone you’d barely met. The stutter step made it clear his legs struggled not to overtake her shorter stride, but in no time, they were out the bakery door.

The loud chime had her striding faster, in the opposite direction of the window that overlooked the sidewalk. “Thanks,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You make a pretty good shield.”

“Happy to help.” Ford’s hand moved to her lower back, his fingertips radiating five spots of heat. He propelled her toward a giant black truck with wheels the size of boulders.

Violet dragged her heels. “Wait, where are we going?”

“To train puppies,” he said, reaching around her to open the passenger door. “That was the deal, remember?”

“Deal? I thought it was more like you taking advantage of my desperate situation.”

“Why can’t it be both? Now, can your teeny legs reach that high, or do you need a boost?”

Despite the phfft, don’t-be-absurd noise she made, she wasn’t sure. Using the metal step, she clamped onto the seat. It took nearly doing the splits, but she’d be damned if she was going to ask for help getting into a truck that was clearly overcompensating for something.

The engine also growled as if it had something to prove, and then she was riding down Main Street with a man who was little more than a stranger. How did she always manage to get herself into such bizarre situations?

If it was her gift, she was going to find the receipt, because she totally wanted to return it.

“So, the Hursts are your parents?” he asked.

Violet tilted her head. Was this guy for real? If he was pretending to be unaware of her family’s soap-opera history, he shouldn’t bother. Every time she’d visited Uncertainty, she’d heard the whispers. Noticed the curious looks.

In this abnormally small town, her notoriety came from being the mistake. The physical reminder of infidelity, which was why she didn’t blame Cheryl for not being her biggest fan. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard about me.”

Ford shifted into a higher gear. “Why? Are you famous?”

“More like infamous. I’m Larry Hurst’s bastard. Some people say love child in an attempt to sound less harsh, as if you can put a bow on a bomb to counteract the destruction. But he’s made it clear there was no love involved.”

Over the years, she’d heard Larry and Cheryl fight several times during the custody agreement visits.

It meant nothing.

I was super drunk, and she happened to be there.

If I could take it back, I would.

Ford squinted across the cab at her. “I don’t pay much attention to town gossip.”

“Come on. You never heard about me, the daughter who messed up the perfect marriage between the beloved mayor and his beautiful wife?” It didn’t help that Mom had kept Violet’s existence from him a secret for eight years, until Violet insisted on tracking down her father and meeting him. “Every summer, my visits would stir the pot, and the whispers and stares were unavoidable.”

Old news by a long shot, so why did residual hurt rise up? What had started as a daydream about meeting her father ended up a nightmare where lives were ruined in her wake. Mom constantly consoled Violet by insisting her dad loved her and wanted a relationship, thus the visits. Frankly, it was hard to believe whenever Violet was away from her real home and her stepmother glared at her with such disdain.

Violet suspected Dad requested the visits more out of “doing the right thing” and not so much because he wanted a relationship.

Ford turned onto a rutted dirt road. “Now that you mention it, it does sound familiar. One of the many reasons I ignored the gossip stemmed from my family always bein’ part of it. The McGuires have been the notorious rotten apples of Uncertainty, goin’ on a century now. But what I’ve discovered through the years is that there aren’t any so-called perfect families. Everyone struggles. Some are just better at hiding it than others.”

Surprisingly candid. Accurate, too.

The squat white house they pulled up in front of had blue shutters, a porch, and a large yard with a white picket fence. And as promised…

“Puppies!” Violet catapulted out the truck as the pint-size German shepherds congregated by the fence, their dark noses poking through the planks.

Pyro leaped the fence as if it were nothing, and Ford bent at the waist and patted his head. “Hey, boy. How were the pipsqueaks?”

The dog replied with a half whimper, half grumble, like a babysitter who’d been relieved after a rough day.

Ford scratched the thick black hair around the dog’s neck until his pink tongue lolled and his complaints turned into pants. “The world needs more amazing search and rescue dogs like you, which means they need us to train them. We can handle that, can’t we, boy?”

Pyro pranced around, as if he were now on board and encouraging Ford to hurry it up. For a second, Violet’s insides went mushy on her. Since the guy had also saved her from an awkward run-in, she allowed herself to indulge in the mush for another two or three seconds.

Her fingers sought the camera hanging around her neck, only to come up empty.

It was the first time in a long time she’d habitually grabbed for her camera, desperate to capture the moment.

Then it was over—a slice of life she wouldn’t get to study and analyze later.

Ford opened the gate for her, and three black-and-brown fluffballs rushed her at once, their ears flopping with every springy movement.

Violet dropped to the ground and let them climb into her lap. One of the puppies took her invitation the extra mile, its paws digging into her right boob as he launched himself higher and licked her chin.

“Thanks for that, buddy. Or girlie. I’m not really sure, and I don’t want to embarrass you by lifting your tail in front of everyone.”

One of the dogs abandoned getting her attention the conventional way and latched onto her shoelaces. He tugged, gradually dragging Violet’s foot out from under her.

A shadow blocked the sun, and she lifted her gaze up, up, up. “They’re adorable,” she said to Ford.

“They’re undisciplined,” he replied.

The puppy that apparently loved the taste of her makeup kept licking her face. Violet wrapped her hands around its furry body, right behind the front legs, and lifted it in the air. “Are you undisciplined? Or do you just like to give Ford a hard time?”

The puppy barked.

“I agree,” Violet said. “It is super fun. But then he starts name-calling. Don’t tell me he’s called you obsessive and overly dramatic, too.”

The dog gave another squeaky bark, and she gasped and pointed the puppy’s snout toward Ford.

“Say you’re sorry,” she demanded.

Ford shook his head, but the corners of his mouth quivered with a smile. “Just to clarify, I didn’t call you dramatic. I implied it using sarcasm.”

“Oh, pardon the hell out of me.”

A chuckle escaped as Ford crouched to the puppy’s level. He petted her furry head and then his eyes—decidedly more green than hazel, although on the olive side—lifted to Violet’s face. “I can see you’re all about the fun and games, but the reason I conned you into helping me is for the working part.”

“Hmm. You failed to mention that while luring me into your windowless van.”

One eyebrow arched, a villainous curve that had her contemplating how to become one of his minions, and evidently her common sense had gone on vacation. “I let you have a window in my big, badass truck, but let this be a lesson to ya. This is what happens when you let yourself be baited by puppies.”

Violet rotated the puppy and brushed her nose against its wet one. “I guess if this is the way I go, so be it.”

The puppy who’d untied her shoelaces had moved on to chasing a grasshopper, and now she felt bad for not snuggling him when she had the chance. “What are their names?”

“They don’t have ’em yet,” Ford said, still squatting, and she wondered if his thighs hurt. Then she was examining his muscular thighs, and she absolutely shouldn’t do that because dayumn.

“That’s just sad.”

“I’ll make you a deal—”

Violet sighed, nice and loud. “Oh no, not another deal.”

“It’s called quid pro quo.”

“I really should’ve asked for the quo—or is it the quid?—before agreeing to the rescue mission.”

The third puppy flounced over, and Violet lay back in the grass and reached for him. She placed him on her chest so she had all three doggies crawling over her. Pyro tracked her and the puppies’ movements with his eyes, and she patted the spot next to her.

He flopped down at her side so he could get in on the cuddling action, too.

“Trust me,” Ford said. “You’re gonna want to take this deal.”

“I find that any time someone starts a sentence with ‘trust me,’ it’s a good indicator I should run. There’s this thing called male-pattern falseness and—”

“My God, woman, do you ever stop prattling on and on?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. If he hadn’t cracked open an eye and added a smile to the sentence that came out more on the teasing side, she’d be out of here. But now she wanted to hear the proposal.

Securing the wiggliest puppy to her chest, she sat up and blew her bangs out of her face. “Why don’t you give me this offer I can’t refuse, and we’ll see?” She added an over-the-top zipping motion across her mouth.

“Assist me with an hour of training, and I’ll let you help name them.”

Violet should pass. Head back to the bakery. But Larry and Cheryl might still be there, if not in near proximity with a high chance of an uncomfortable run-in. She retrieved her phone and sent a text to Maisy explaining why she’d split and informing her that she was with Ford.

She pivoted the screen to him. “There. Now my sister knows I’m with you, so you’d best behave yourself.”

Of course she added a quick selfie of her with the puppies to the text, because puppies. Bonus, she could send it to the Bridesmaid Crew chat, too. “All right, Mr. Firefighter. You have a deal.”

Ford extended his hand, and when she placed her palm in his, her skin hummed. “Deal. But full disclosure? I have no intention of behaving.”

…

In order to train the puppies to find an object or person by scent, there were these things called scent pads. According to Ford, as the dogs improved and got the hang of tracking, they’d place the pads farther and farther away.

After Ford gave her a rundown of how it worked, they left a pouty Pyro at the house, since he had to stay behind for this mission. They put harnesses and long lead ropes on the puppies and headed behind Ford’s house, which backed to a forested area with a path that led to the lake.

“I don’t want to confuse the puppies with too many scents, so we should split up.” Ford studied the three fur babies. “Although, now I’m wondering which one would be the easiest for you to handle.”

Violet scooped up the male puppy that’d undone her shoelaces, and her heart nearly imploded as he cocked his head and studied her. “I want this one.”

“Oh, I don’t think you can handle him. He has ADD.”

“Omigosh, same.” Plenty of people joked about ADD, and she’d never minded. Well, up until Benjamin rolled his eyes and asked if she’d taken her meds. At the same time, giving people a heads-up helped her feel less rude when she perpetually lost track of conversations. “It’ll be a match made in—oh look a squirrel!”

Ford’s sputtered laughter startled the two puppies at his feet. They glanced from him to her, tan eyebrows twitching. “I’m not sure two distracteds make a whole.”

“Hey, just because someone is easily distracted doesn’t mean they can’t get shit done.” She gathered the puppy closer, and her insides turned squishy on her. The next sentence came out heavy on the baby-animal talk. “We’ll show him, won’t we?”

Four doggy legs pedaled through the air, as if he were ready to prove Ford wrong, too.

“That settles it. Distracto’s with me.” Violet lowered him to the ground, rubbed a hand over his soft doggie fur, and grabbed a scent pad. They headed the opposite direction as Ford and the rest of the crew.

Once they’d gotten far enough away that she couldn’t see the others, she let the little guy sniff the pad.

She’d only placed it a couple of yards away, exactly like Ford had told her to, but Distracto kept getting…well, distracted. He circled a scrawny tree and peed on it.

A yellow-and-black bird landed on the ground and began hopping around, and Distracto towed Violet away from the pad.

His tug jolted her shoulder, and she quickened her pace to keep up with him. “Dude, we’re going the wrong way. We’ve got to head back.”

Clearly the puppy understood, because he immediately changed directions.

For two whole seconds.

Then a shrub dared to quiver in the wind. The puppy barked at it, the noise so tiny and high-pitched that Violet released a squeaky sound of her own—he was too freaking adorable for words.

The puppy then attacked the bobbing branch—and lost.

He followed that up by peeing on another stump.

Violet tapped her foot as she waited for him to finish his business, her sense of urgency growing by the second. “What is Ford giving you to drink? I’m not even sure how your tiny bladder could possibly hold that much liquid.”

Distracto gave an arf!

Violet moved the scent pad in the direction Distracto favored, so naturally he headed in the opposite direction. “No, wait. It’s this way.”

A bug with a disgusting amount of legs required persecution, and she shuddered as the puppy nudged it with his paw. But who was she to prevent one less bug from crawling into town to find her?

After that, she spotted a carpet of green plants with miniature purple flowers, and then she was the one going in for a closer look.

“No, don’t eat them,” she said, holding the puppy back when he tried to chomp on the petals. He nibbled on Violet’s finger instead, and she accepted the slobber so the plants didn’t have to.

Those would be so cute in a wedding bouquet. Like the purple version of baby’s breath.

Not that she needed any more ideas. Much like reaching for her camera, it was second nature. Planning a wedding for a decade did that to you, causing you to catalog each item that might add another touch of perfection.

Over the years, her tastes had changed, but—lucky her—she had more than enough time to update her binder of uselessness.

Enough dwelling on that.

Violet stood and glanced around as Distracto tugged the leash this way and that. “Shoot, where did the pad go?”

It took some zigzagging before they found their target. Since she was afraid Distracto might’ve forgotten the smell, Violet let him sniff, then gave him one of the doggy treats from her pocket.

“Finding this pad means more treats. Got it?”

She relocated him a few yards away, and they started over.

And by started over, she meant another round with a grasshopper and a blade of grass and a fly.

Finally, Violet knelt on the spongy ground, the knees of her jeans sopping up the moisture. “Listen. If Ford finds out we didn’t even make it to the scent pad once, we’ll never hear the end of it.” She patted the puppy’s head, fighting to not let herself be swayed by his big brown eyes. “You like hanging out with me, right?”

Distracto sat on his rump and scratched his chin with his back paw. Once she took over the scratching, he climbed into her lap and nuzzled his nose into the crook of her elbow.

“See, this isn’t helping.”

Much like her baby talk probably wasn’t helping. Must remain strong.

Gently, she placed the puppy on the ground. She withdrew one of the bone-shaped doggy treats and waved it in front of him. He pounced for it, and she slowly moved it another foot away. Her thighs burned from being hunched over, but Distracto was heading toward the pad again.

Excitement zoomed through her, overtaking her thoughts about her strained muscles. “Good job, buddy. Now that we’ve made up the ground we lost, we only have to make it a couple of yards.”

Another foot down.

Then a stinking butterfly had to show off, flitting its yellow wings as it flew low.

Distracto charged after it, and Violet gathered the rope and stopped him short.

“You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”

The sad-puppy eyes made her feel like a big jerk.

Violet looked around, and when she didn’t see Ford, she picked up Distracto and put him a foot or so past where they’d started. She broke the doggy bone in half and lifted it in front of his face. “If I let you eat this, you’ve got to promise to make it to the pad. You’ll get the rest of the treat when you do. Deal?”

The puppy pawed at her leg, desperately trying to snatch the treat, and she bobbed it up and down. His muzzle mimicked the motion, a coerced head nod that totally counted.

“Good enough.” Violet carried him a foot closer to the pad and fed him the first half of the doggy bone.

But before she could get him to keep going—because he certainly wasn’t doing it on his own—a loud throat clearing, followed by a deep “What do you think you’re doing?” made her jump.

She whirred around to see Ford standing with the other two leashed puppies, his arms crossed. “Hey.” Her voice came out way too high, with the guilty edge that accompanied being caught.

Ford cocked his head. “Hey? Seriously?”

“Oh, do you prefer to be more formal? Hello, Ford Whatever-your-last-name-is. It’s a pleasure to come across you in the swampy Alabama woods. Tis been such a long time since I had the pleasure of company on my midday stroll.”

He pressed his lips into a flat line, refusing to smile, but his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Violet.”

Her throat went dry as he strode toward her. “Mm-hmm?”

“I saw you cheating. You can’t give him a treat until he reaches the pad.”

“We had a deal,” she said.

“I know, and you broke it.”

“I meant Distracto and me.” She turned to the puppy, as if he’d back her up. He, in turn, barked at a bush, lifted his leg, and peed on it. “See, I told him I would give him half the treat now, and he’d get the rest when he reached the pad.”

The tips of Ford’s shoes hit the toes of hers, and her pulse beat so fast it left her dizzy. “That’s not when he gets one. Looks like I’m gonna have to take the treats and give ’em out as I see fit.”

Violet swung her arm behind her, the remaining two and a half doggy bones clenched in her fist. “He’s trying his best.”

“No, you’re a sucker.” Ford extended his open palm and gestured for her to hand over the reward treats.

“No, I’m…okay, maybe a little bit of a sucker, but give me another chance.”

His chest bumped hers as he reached around her to pry the treats from her hand, and she stretched the limits of her arm. Fabric rustled, a swirl upended her stomach, and she suppressed a shiver as his callused fingertips grazed her arm.

A shriek escaped as he began prying open her fingers one by one. The puppy at her feet barked and wedged himself between them.

Then Distracto shocked them both with a growl.

She assumed, anyway, since Ford’s jaw dropped, too.

He peered down at the fur baby, and Violet winced, afraid Distracto was about to get in trouble.

Instead, pride and a hint of delight shone through Ford’s features. “I’ll be damned. You must be more motivating than I thought if he’s ready to take me on to defend you.”

Only with the puppy still growling, his brother and sister came to join the fray. They circled and jumped, barking and carrying on, and, at some point, they began chasing one another instead of defending her honor.

Guess that was the problem with relying on an easily distracted guard dog.

Ford and Violet spun, attempting to get the puppies to calm down, but the lead ropes began winding around their legs, and Violet gripped onto Ford’s arms as she was the one suddenly fighting—gravity. “Whoa.”

“You guys,” Ford started, but the biggest of the puppies took off one way as the female shot in the opposite direction. “Stay! Sit!”

Violet swayed backward, bracing for a fall.

Lightning quick, Ford wrapped his arms around her and pivoted, taking the brunt of the fall. They hit the ground hard, Ford landing on his butt with Violet sprawled on top of him.

A giggle started low in her throat, until she was laughing full-out. “You’re right. Your training methods are clearly better than mine.”

Ford chuckled, too. “It’s a work in progress. One that needs more work.”

“Maybe you should try the half-a-treat-up-front, half-once-the-job’s-done method. All the gangsters use it, and it works very well for them.”

“Oh, and you know a lot of gangsters?”

“What? I don’t strike you as the mob-boss type?” she asked as if offended.

“I’m not sayin’ that, but I did watch your method fail to yield the desired results.”

“That’s because you”—she poked a finger to his chest, accidentally noticing how very firm it was—“didn’t let me finish.”

Distracto chose that moment to charge over and eat the other half of the treat, which had fallen on the ground, along with the two others she’d dropped.

His personal mission accomplished, the puppy bounded away to join his brother and sister. The dogs’ movements jerked her and Ford’s entwined feet back and forth. She got the giggles again, especially since she kept going to push herself up, only for her legs to be twisted in the other direction.

Ford sat up, bringing their noses mere inches apart.

The shift also had her straddling his hips, and heat she hadn’t meant to stoke flared to life. It’d been a long time since she’d been this close to a man, and she’d never been this close to one this…manly.

And big.

Holy shit. If she felt what she thought she might be feeling, there was no overcompensating necessary.

“I…uh…” Her words came out way too breathless.

Ford swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His long fingers wrapped around her hips, and—was he going to kiss her?

More, was she going to let him?

“Sorry, I just need to…” Using his grip, he lifted her up and off him. Then he reached past her for the ropes still secured around their ankles.

This is why I can’t be trusted around handsome men. I was sitting there with my head in the clouds, halfway leaning in for a kiss, while he was simply trying to untangle us.

Cheeks aflame, Violet attacked the section of rope around their calves, sliding her legs free the instant she could.

A minute or so later, the lead ropes were separated into three, and the puppies were lying down for a nap, maximum destruction accomplished for the day.

Violet and Ford rallied the pawed troops and walked the way they’d come, the sound of leaves and sticks crunching underneath their feet the only sound. When Distracto refused to keep pace or focus, Violet picked him up and carried him.

Ford didn’t comment, so either he was okay with it or he now believed she was a wishy-washy mess. Honestly, she was beginning to wonder herself.

After her nasty breakup, she’d declared she was done with men. For six months, she’d never once been tempted to cross the line. Then, after a mingy hour with a guy who wasn’t even her type, she’d almost thrown herself at him.

The guy was dangerous on too many levels, and Violet worked to remain calm while plotting her escape. She still didn’t want him to think she was a flighty disaster, so that took away fleeing the scene as a valid option.

Once they returned to Ford’s house, Violet plopped Distracto in one of the puppy beds. He tucked his nose into the soft fabric, and his brother and sister joined him. She air kissed them and gave Pyro a last pat, mentally preparing a quick, efficient goodbye.

“So anyway,” she started as Ford said, “Well, what do you—” He paused and made a go ahead gesture. “Sorry, you go first.”

“I was about to say that I should get going.” She started for the door. “But thanks for the puppy time and the save in the bakery. I appreciate it.”

“What about the other part of our deal?” Ford took a step in her direction, and she took a step backward. The spot between his eyebrows crinkled. He closed the distance she’d created, prompting her to repeat her previous motion. “The part where you help me name the puppies.”

“Oh. That. Yeah.” Her feet kept propelling her backward, but she rammed her butt into the gold handle. She automatically frowned at it. “Whoa. I just went to first base with your doorknob.”

“Lucky doorknob,” Ford said, and a flurried pitter-patter tapped its way through her.

“Anyway, so, yeah. Goodbye.” She spun and twisted the door handle. Added a wiggle and a yank, but the door didn’t budge.

Her heart thrashed as a sense of urgency short-circuited her system. She was alone with a charming guy and his adorable dogs, and if she didn’t hurry and get out of here, she might forget she’d sworn off men. She refused to go through the pain again. It hurt too bad. Left her too wrecked.

Violet double-checked the knob wasn’t locked, turning it one way and then the other and tugging and tugging.

“Here, let me get it.” Ford’s voice unbalanced her further, and she forced her gaze to remain on the gold knob. What the hell was wrong with her? Besides the flirty door remark, which seemed more teasing than real, it wasn’t like he was hitting on her.

She jerked on the doorknob like she was in a horror movie and the killer was coming for her.

“Violet,” Ford said in a calm voice. “I’m trying to help you, but you’re in the way. Why are you acting like you’re afraid of me? Did I do something that scared you? If so, that wasn’t my intention, and the thing about the doorknob was just a jo—”

“I’m not scared of you. I just need to get to the bakery, but the door won’t let me go, and I’m worried about how long I’ve been gone. That’s all.”

His arm snaked around her, he gripped the knob, and then he pushed instead of pulled.

Like magic—or engineering, as it were—the door opened, letting her out and a fresh breeze of air in.

“Thanks,” she called, bolting down the porch stairs. She hit the sidewalk and saw his truck. Her lungs tightened, as did her skin.

With a sheepish grin, she glanced over her shoulder to where Ford took up the entire doorway. He casually leaned a hip on the frame and studied her as if she’d lost her mind.

So much for convincing him she wasn’t dramatic or flighty.

“Guessin’ you just realized I drove you here,” he said.

“Uh. Yeah.” She went fishing for the phone in her pocket. “But it’s okay. I’ll call an Uber and be out of your hair in no time.” She tapped the app, which took an eternity and a half to open.

“Hate to break it to you, but we’re short on Uber here. Short on taxis. You can order one, but it’ll take a good thirty minutes to show. It’ll be faster for me to take you into town. Unless you’re scared of me. Then I’ll find you another ride.”

Why did he have to be so nice about it? It only made her feel more absurd. Self-preservation was important, though. Then again, now that she’d calmed down, she could admit that she’d overreacted.

To herself, anyway.

She bounced on the balls of her feet, in severe need of expending the anxious energy coursing through her. “If you wouldn’t mind driving me back, I’d appreciate it.”

And if she could get her hands on a Time-Turner so she could undo her panicky freak-out, she’d appreciate that even more.

…

Ford wasn’t sure what to say or do, so he drove Main Street in silence, fighting the urge to look across the cab at Violet.

The mood between them had shifted on a dime. He couldn’t help replaying the last twenty minutes in an attempt to figure out what’d inspired the change.

Violet had been laughing when they were tangled up together, her eyes wide, her cheeks pink. She’d felt damn good, too, with her curves pressed against him.

He’d nearly lost control when he’d sat up and their hips bumped together. In another couple of seconds, she would’ve felt that he was getting turned on, so he’d diverted his attention to untangling the ropes.

Still, she’d been okay until they’d walked inside his place.

“I do think Distracto fits that puppy. But would it be hard to place him as a search and rescue dog with a name like that?”

Ford twisted his head in her direction, one eye still on the road. “My ego wants to claim otherwise, but if I’m being honest, I occasionally come across a dog that’s not cut out for search and rescue life. Doesn’t mean he’ll be ill behaved, but I can’t declare a dog ready if he constantly gets distracted, regardless of what his name is.”

She nodded. Bit her lower lip.

That lip had been inches from his earlier, which was so something he shouldn’t be thinking about. At least she wasn’t engaged, although he’d been right about her being high-strung. As someone with plenty of ghosts in his past, he was beginning to think she had a few of her own.

Whether that, or if she was as dramatic as Cheryl Hurst accused her of being, it didn’t much matter. Particularly when he factored in the binder that indicated she was obsessed with settling down. He knew better.

One of Dad’s pearls of wisdom went along the lines of “Living with a temperamental woman is like inviting a rabid racoon into your house and wondering which day she’s gonna bite you.”

Dad was the expert, too. With two ex-wives, an ex-fiancée, and a string of tumultuous, short-lived relationships, he had a knack for picking ’em. Same as Ford’s brothers, Gunner and Deacon, who had plenty of their own demons to add into the mix.

And himself, until he’d gone and given the hot-and-cold type up for good.

Violet’s knee went to bouncing up and down. “What’ll happen if Distracto doesn’t get placed on a search and rescue team?”

“He’ll be put up for adoption and find a good home. No need to worry about him.”

Relief smoothed her features for a whole second before she tucked her leg up and turned to face him. “How many jobs do you have, anyway?”

“Depends on the day.” Ford slowed for Gordon Johnson, who always drove Main Street at fifteen miles an hour. If he were in a hurry, he’d dart down a side road, but they were almost to the bakery, and a part of him wanted to draw out this ride.

With all the deal breakers stacking up, including the fact that he had no interest in settling down, he couldn’t pursue Violet. Which meant this might be one of his last interactions with the intriguing, confusing, beautiful woman.

“Firefighting, training K-9 units…” Violet rolled a finger, signaling she expected him to fill in the blanks.

“I’m on the Talladega Search and Rescue team, too.”

“Basically, you’re a full-time badass.”

Gordon turned into his driveway at a spiffy three miles an hour, and Ford forced himself to speed up so he wouldn’t create a traffic jam. “That’s what my business cards say, anyway.”

She laughed, quieter than earlier in the woods, but it hit him as hard. It’d been a long time since he’d enjoyed himself with anyone besides his closest friends.

But again, he couldn’t afford the time, and it wasn’t worth the effort if they wanted different things. If she’d only end up hurt.

“Mostly it’s a lot of searching for lost hikers and hunters. Occasionally we travel to the coast during hurricane season to help.” He angled into a diagonal spot in front of the bakery, irritated at the twinge in his chest. “Which is why I hope if you’re in trouble, you won’t hesitate to call me. That’s not a pickup line, either. I take my job very seriously.”

The thought of Violet being in trouble stirred up a foreign sentiment he couldn’t name. Maybe he did have the hero complex his friends accused him of. That was it. Nothing more.

“I’m sure you do,” Violet said.

Ford dipped his head and squinted through the big window of the bakery, attempting to make out the shapes inside. “Want me to go inside and check if the coast is clear?”

Violet held up her phone. “I already texted Maisy. My father and Cheryl are long gone.”

Ford got it—he’d been known to dodge his dad and brothers whenever possible. Both in high school when he used to escape to his cave by the lake for days at a time, and whenever they crawled out of whatever hole they’d been in drinking themselves stupid, all so they could cause trouble and keep on dragging the McGuire name through the mud.

He ran the pads of his fingers over the worn, grooved spots in the steering wheel. “What do you do when you’re not painting a bakery for your sister?”

The heavy sigh signaled he’d hit a sore subject. See, the woman was practically a land mine. Why would he keep on dancing around the area, waiting for the step that’d blow his foot off?

“I’m a photographer,” she said. “Or I was one. I guess I still am. And, with any luck, will be again, after I finish up here and head home to Florida. Let’s just say it’s…complicated.”

“Complicated” was a good word for Violet. “Trouble” was another.

“Anyway, thanks for the ride.” Halfway out the door, she spun around. “What about Trouble?”

Ford froze. Had he called her trouble out loud? How could he explain that he simply wasn’t into relationships with women who’d storm into his life and would storm out shortly thereafter, leaving as much destruction as a hurricane?

“For the puppy? Pigeonholes him a bit but doesn’t blatantly call him out. I’d be upset if someone nicknamed me ADHD. Trouble, on the other hand… It’s a warning and a threat all in one.”

“I like it.”

Unfortunately, he’d always struggled with not landing himself in trouble, and if it involved Violet, Ford would probably like it way more than he should.

Which meant he was going to have to actively fight his attraction to the woman.