Loco

Tanner dropped the heavy duffel bag on the living room floor and absently scanned through the pile of mail he had picked up off the hardwood moments before. His job pulled him away for days or weeks at a time, allowing the mail to pile up. He would receive multiple late notices on bills if he didn’t have everything arranged to be automatically paid through his checking account.

Finding nothing pressing or of interest, he tossed the handful of papers onto the dining table and headed into the kitchen. The fridge wouldn’t contain much edible food owing to his absence, but if his luck held, there might be something to drink. Good thing he’d stopped by a fast food restaurant on the way home or he would have a grumbling belly with no food in sight. A can of soda caught his eye. He quickly pulled the tab, took a deep swallow then stared at the nest of luxury living space laid out before him. From the high-end designer leather couch to the king-sized cushy bed tucked away in the sole bedroom, everything fulfilled his need for ease and comfort. He spent little money on anything else, having no real responsibilities but to care for his whims and wishes.

A few days per month found him at home, a half condo located in the suburbs of Center City. His position working for a private, highly secretive agency kept him on the move with little downtime in between. Not that his boss pushed them relentlessly, not at all. The unending work correlated more to the world going to hell in a hand-basket on a daily basis rather than a single person’s obsession for slave driving. A ring of the phone at any time of the day or night would send him scurrying from location to location, laboring to take out one nest of vipers after another. He lived for the adrenaline rush and putting his abilities to good use—his profession simply matched and reflected those interests. After all, he was a Wind Warrior, a member of a group of highly trained former military men who left regular duty, for one reason or another, and sought a meaningful role where they could use their exceptional skills for the greater good, wiping the worst of the worst off the face of the earth. He didn’t need fame or public praise to do his job. Quite the opposite. He preferred to go in, complete his mission, come home in one piece then celebrate with some hard-earned rest and relaxation.

The ringing of the doorbell caught his attention. Instantly on alert, he stalked quietly to the front door, peeking out of the tiny hole before releasing his pent-up breath. In his business, being overly cautious could just save a life.

A young woman with long brunette hair stood outside his door with a full basket clutched in her hands.

After clicking the locks, Tanner pulled the door open and peered down at her. “Can I help you?”

She glanced up, a bright smile covering her face and extending to her sparkling green eyes. “Hi. I’m Oakley. I’m your other half.”

He stared dumbfounded at her for a couple of beats before his tired brain made the connection. “You live next door?”

She quickly nodded, her long hair swaying with the movement. “I moved in a couple of weeks ago and have been waiting to meet you. This is for you.”

She extended the basket toward him, exposing her toned, muscular arms. He automatically took the gift, allowing his gaze to flow over her body from head to toe. Not only were her arms ripped for a woman, but her whole body shouted athlete. She stood a head shorter than him, compact, but with power, if her conditioning told the truth. Loose black shorts matched a dark-colored T-shirt advertising a local five-k run from a year ago. One glance at her legs made his gut clench. They weren’t long and lean like a runway model’s, but powerful and sculpted like those of a woman familiar with running shoes.

“It’s pound cake. I made the strawberry glaze myself. A lot less sugar than icing, but just as tasty with some extra vitamin C from the berries.” She gestured toward the lump in the bottom of the basket. “You might want to keep it in the fridge, though.”

He locked onto those sparkling green eyes. “I thought welcome to the neighborhood gifts were given by the old inhabitants to the new ones?”

She shrugged. “You haven’t been around. Besides, I like to bake.”

“You’re feeding me two-week-old cake?”

“Nope. My luck you’d get food poisoning and kick the bucket. Then some frat boys with an obsession for rap and acid rock music at all hours would move into your place. No thanks. I’ll keep tall, dark and quiet, just the same.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “I see.” He shifted the package to one arm, holding out his hand. “I’m Tanner.”

She shook with a tight grip, something he liked in a woman. The limp fish handshake most of them did turned him off. He much preferred strong, independent ladies.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Just get back from vacation?” Her attention focused behind him.

“Work.” He watched and waited for her response, hoping she wasn’t one of those nosy women that couldn’t seem to let sleeping dogs lie.

“Oh, I see.” Her gaze returned to his face. “Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

“You run?” He pointed to her shirt.

She glanced down, as if just recalling what she actually wore. “Yeah, I run five-ks. I’m not the fastest runner and never win, but I like doing it. Besides, the entry fee money goes to a charitable cause.”

From the looks of that body, she ran a lot. But her upper body strength said running wasn’t her only form of exercise. Probably one of those health food fanatics, too.

Nothing wrong with being active. In his profession, he had no choice but to stay fit and in top condition. Slow men caught bullets. Weak men couldn’t stand up to the terrain. Wimpy men simply wouldn’t do the job or pass basic training in the first place.

Oakley shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Well, I’d better get going. Hercules will be upset if I’m late.”

“Hercules?” He arched an eyebrow at the name.

A genuine smile covered her face, showing her pride in the animal. “My dog.”

“Oh.” Just what he needed—a small, yappy fuzzball next door to wake him with constant barking. Not that he disliked dogs—actually much the opposite. However, his present career left no time for a pet, especially one as needy as a canine. In the meantime, he didn’t want his downtime disturbed by someone else’s pampered ragamuffin.

“Gotta get going. Welcome home.” She trotted back to her side of the condo with a quick smile and wave.

He watched her go, noticing the sway of hips with each step, the nice shape to her lithe, firm body, the tight ass. A Playboy model she might not be with her small, modest breasts, but he certainly appreciated everything he saw in her package—energetic, toned, with just enough meat to fill a man’s hands and mouth.

He quickly clamped down on those thoughts. Home for less than an hour and he already lusted after the first female he’d run into. She was off limits for several reasons. First of all, she would still be his neighbor, no matter what happened between them. Thus, when things turned sour, they would still be in close proximity. Too close. If he read her right—and he was rarely wrong—she leaned toward innocence on the spectrum rather than a highly experienced courtesan. Still, appearances could be deceiving, which meant he could be a witness to her nightly activities with different men through the thin walls of the condo. He scowled at that thought. Or, if his former idea proved correct, it meant she would want a relationship. Commitment. Marriage. The words sent shudders down his spine. Sure, he’d had his share of women and a colorful reputation as a playboy, enjoyed being with beauties any chance he stumbled across, but not one of them made him want to commit for life. No. He liked being a bachelor and had no intentions of settling down with one woman. Ever.

Oakley emerged from her front door, leash in hand, a huge black and white spotted dog on the other end. That had to be the largest canine he had ever seen in his life, more the size of a pony than a dog. The gigantic beast’s head reached the level of her abdomen and he easily outweighed her. For all his size, he seemed happy and gentle with his owner, licking her hand and jogging calmly beside her as they headed off down the sidewalk.

He shook his head, closed the door, and returned to the kitchen in order to place the cake on the table. Not for the first time did he miss the little old lady that used to rent the other half of his condo. She’d cooked for him when he’d returned home, reminding him of his beloved Grandma Dee who had passed away when he was just a kid. Her gentle ways and chiding nature made him smile through the worst days. Her daughter had come to pick her up one day when the old woman had no longer been able to care for herself. Truth be told, he missed her and her old-fashioned, grandmotherly tendencies more than he cared to admit. She had been a stable force in his life who had always known just the right thing to do or say, putting his world into proper perspective with her wisdom and quick wit.

Now he was stuck with Wonder Woman and her giant dog.

He pulled a fork from the drawer and cut off a generous slice of cake. He swallowed the first bite, savoring the texture and delicately sweet taste. She could cook—he’d give her that. Now, if only she would leave him be and the horse she called a dog would remain quiet. Yeah, and if pigs could fly too.

Odd but yummy.

Oakley trotted through the park that surrounded the condominium on three sides. The open area proved a major selling point in her book. She didn’t feel hemmed in by people below and above, which she would’ve done if she’d lived in an apartment building, and the park allowed space and convenient running room for her and Hercules. It made for a peaceful neighborhood with everything she wanted and needed for her work and activity levels. As a bonus, it was only a ten minute drive to Hilltop Junior College where she taught classes.

Her mind turned back to the neighbor she’d just met. The landlord had warned her that he was out of town on business a lot and spent little time at home. That had only sealed the deal on the condo for her at the time. The less exposure to a bothersome neighbor, the better.

Tanner wasn’t what she’d expected, though. Dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleep deprivation and exhaustion. Despite that, his mind clicked sharply, and his eyes flashed with amusement at her attempted teasing. That body. Wow. Jeans covered a muscular, large frame, while that button-down shirt hinted at sheer power just beneath the coarse material. She would bet next week’s paycheck that he sported a six pack. They made her mouth water every time. A tattoo peeked out from under his right sleeve, tempting her to search for more under his clothing.

What am I thinking? He probably had tons of women clamoring to be with him, if not a steady girlfriend. He didn’t wear a ring and the fact that he lived alone told her he wasn’t married. That didn’t mean he lined up as the most available bachelor in the neighborhood, though. Besides, what would she do with a man? She’d sworn off those years ago, after seeing the pain and misery they could cause first-hand. She drew the line in the sand at looking. Nothing wrong with a bit of eye candy to sprinkle in her dreams at night. The rest she would leave to the juicy romance novels she curled up with now and again. She liked her life as it stood. No complications needed.

If only things had turned out differently seven years ago. If she had known then…

She shook her head, increasing her speed in an effort to leave behind those lingering nightmare memories. You can’t outrun the past. You can only meet it head on, deal with it and move forward. How many times had the counselor reminded her of that fact? More times than she could count. It proved true, but that didn’t stop painful memories from re-emerging now and again. Running helped. It allowed her time to daydream while pushing the ghosts back into their locked cell deep inside her mind or setting them free for a day while she pushed herself physically to relieve pent-up anger and frustration. Logging miles became a necessary outlet for her sanity.

* * * *

Thirty minutes later, she panted heavily at her back door. Upon grabbing the water hose, she twisted it on and quickly filled the oversized bucket—Hercules’ water dish—to the brim. He lapped and lapped, lowering the levels twice before plopping down on the small outdoor rug he claimed as his. Since he tended to slosh water all over the place when drinking, Oakley had learned to serve him water outside after their runs, rather than on the kitchen floor. Saved her having to mop.

She was startled as a quick glimpse revealed Tanner lounging on his side of the patio, sipping his soda and watching her while he relaxed with his feet on a makeshift stool.

“Have a good run?” His chocolate gaze roamed the length of her body.

“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 leftover 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 glanced 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 five-k?” 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. After 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 had decided to meet and greet Tanner—his way. Which meant not only did Tanner get big doggie kisses, but Hercules laid across his lap, as he 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’ 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’ 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 deckchair. 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 scratched behind his ears. “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’d 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 eased enough to make his appearance much younger. Tanner’s bright white teeth flashed in the fading late spring sun. Dark eyes sparkled with life. A strong chin gave him an appearance of determination 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 but couldn’t pull herself 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 from 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 was beckoning 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, 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 spun on her heel and retreated into the house.