Thrett had said, “but that guy looked like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. And I have to admit, I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.”
That had earned him a smile. “Thanks. My name’s Rylan.”
After that, Thrett had poured on the charm and she’d eventually warmed up to him. That warmth had turned hot pretty quickly.
Thrett burst through another cloud, memories of their time together scorching his mind. He needed this, the release of soaring through the air and blowing off steam, even if it meant sending someone back to collect his SUV later. The flight didn’t stop him from feeling snubbed, but it dulled the edge of his frustration. Which was good for Ragan DeFever, who greeted him as soon as he landed at Wildridge Security.
“Hey!” Ragan stuck his head in the locker room as Thrett stepped into a spare pair of pants he kept in his locker. “Good timing. Just ran the plates on the van you were looking for. It’s a rental.”
Thrett growled as he shrugged into a simple black button-down. “So, a dead end.”
“Not necessarily. Give me a few days, a week at the most, and I might be able to track down the security footage from rental places in the area, and—”
“That’s just a long road to a dead end,” Thrett groused.
Ragan narrowed his eyes at his colleague. “What crawled up your ass and died?”
Thrett shot him a scowl and then sighed. “Women.”
“The king of one-night stands has women problems? Now that’s a first.”
“Fuck off,” Thrett snarled as he pushed past his coworker and headed downstairs.
He was well aware of what his social life looked like form the outside. That he was a player, a manwhore, a love-em-and-leave-em kinda guy. Nothing could have been farther from the truth, as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t about to reveal his deepest feelings to anyone else, much less his colleagues. They wouldn’t understand, especially the ones whose mates had fallen into their laps, like Ragan, Allon and Elektra.
Thrett jerked open the door to Wildridge just as a pack of puppies escaped the pet store next door. Four corgi puppies scurried between the feet of the men as they tried to make their way inside without stomping on the adorable sausage-shaped canines bouncing around like bunnies. One of them immediately tripped over its own paws and tumbled over with a whimper before bouncing right back up and chasing after the others.
The owner of Mutts ‘N’ Stuff, Alice Sinclair, hurried after them, right on cue.
“Oh, do be careful!” she cried as the puppies split off in four different directions.
The Wildridge Security team had already mobilized. They knew the drill.
Ragan threw himself over a desk and reached a long arm down to pick up the first pup. Alice finally managed to get another’s attention with a treat, but the third pooch snatched it away first. Thrett caught the second one as it whined over losing the yummy, but Alice had another ready to pop in its mouth. The little furball happily crunched away as it snuggled into Thrett’s arms.
Damn, it was hard to stay pissed off with a cute corgi cuddling up to you!
Dyrk Fortis raised his head over the cubicles to see what the ruckus was about. When he ran over to help, the final escapee bounded toward him. Reaching down to grab it, Dyrk’s head collided with that of the receptionist—and Alice’s niece—Tessa. With a yelp, she nearly fell on her ass, but Dyrk somehow managed to catch her.
In the commotion, Pup Number Four vanished. A squeaky bark sounded down the hall and moments later Charlie walked out of his office holding the tiny rebel in his hands. He then handed the wriggling ball of fluff to a grateful Alice with a warm smile.
“Sorry for intruding again, but thanks for the help,” Alice said with a grin, doing her best to wrangle her armful of puppies.
Ever the gentleman, Charlie held the door open for her. Tessa extracted herself from Dyrk’s firm grasp, a lovely tinge of pink coloring her cheeks, to help her aunt take the puppies back to the shop.
Dyrk watched them leave and then swallowed hard before turning his attention to Thrett. “So it turns out a dead man rented the van you’re looking for.”
“Excuse me?” Thrett asked, feeling like he’d missed a chapter in a mystery novel.
“I traced the credit card that paid for it, and wouldn’t know, it belonged to an old friend of ours.”
Dyrk wasn’t normally one