over her head for tonight, then find her owner. Of course, even a single night was risky. If she got busted with a dog after the tenant board had specifically refused her pet request, there would be hell to pay.
An unexpected grin tugged at Riley’s lips. This was rebellious and utterly spontaneous, the most she’d felt like herself in months—not counting her teasing exchange with Jack in the elevator. You weren’t going to think about him anymore today.
Right. Good policy...even if it was proving difficult to maintain.
* * *
JACK LEANED BACK in the driver seat, glad to be home but so drained it took him a moment to summon the energy to climb out of his car. He’d worked several crime scenes today, but the last one had been emotionally grueling. The only witness to the shooting had been a neighborhood kid. Jack had tried to patiently coax details from the shaken child while mentally cursing the unfairness of life.
Childhood shouldn’t include murder. It should be all ice cream cones and...amusement parks or something. Granted, his own upbringing had included more criminal activity than family vacations. That kid today must have really got to him, because usually Jack was more of a realist. He knew he couldn’t magically make the world fair—but he could help take down the bastards who were messing it up for everyone else. Bolstered by the hope that his composites would generate hits and ultimately lead to stopping more bad guys, he opened his door.
A few spaces down, another car was pulling in, and he recognized it as the same blue compact Riley had driven away in on Saturday. His mood unexpectedly lightened. He should ask her if she’d taken any steps to challenging Mrs. Tyler’s Reign of Tenant Terror. He headed in Riley’s direction, ignoring the rain that pelted him. It had been raining all damn month—what were a few more drops at this point?
Before he reached her, Riley got out of her car, darted around to the passenger side and shrugged out of her jacket. Beneath it was an athletic top that momentarily stopped him in his tracks. He’d wondered previously if she wore dark clothes to avoid notice. The fitted racerback tank was black, with the exception of some turquoise piping, but with a silhouette like hers and beautifully sculpted shoulders, she might as well have been wearing neon. He drank in the sight of her.
Plenty of his art classes had included study of the human form—not to mention his ongoing, informal study of women in more intimate settings—so why did he feel poleaxed at the sight of Riley in an athletic top?
She was such a sexy combination of strength and delicate femininity. Strength she’s going to use to kick your ass if she catches you leering. He ducked his gaze, but she was too busy fidgeting with something to have noticed him yet. As he got closer, he realized she was positioning her jacket through the straps of a bag, draping it as if to protect the bag’s contents from the rain.
“Hey,” he greeted her. “Need help with something?”
She glanced up, looking momentarily startled by his presence, then breaking into a wide grin. “Nah, I think I got this. But—”
“Miss Kendrick!” Anna Tyler emerged from the building’s exit. Her shrill voice carried across the lot, only partially obscured by the whipping wind. She stopped to wrestle with an ugly paisley umbrella that was blown inside out.
Riley cursed under her breath. “What was she doing, lying in wait for my return?” She squirmed suddenly, gripping the bag she carried over her shoulder. “Turns out, I do need your help. Can you sneak this inside for me? I’ll be upstairs to get her as soon as possible.”
“Her?” Jack’s eyebrows skyrocketed.
She lifted the edge of the carefully arranged coat so he could peek beneath it. A canine muzzle pressed against the side of the bag, and he recoiled.
“You have a dog in there!” His voice was louder than he’d intended.
“Shh.” Riley gave him a stern look. “Lesson one about illicit smuggling, don’t announce it to the entire county.” She slid the straps off her shoulder and tried to get him to take the bag. “I know it’s kind of crappy to ask you to violate apartment policy on my behalf, especially since you just moved in, but—” She cast a frantic look over his shoulder at the approaching Mrs. Tyler. “Please? I double-dog dare you. Pun intended.”
He lowered his gaze to the bag and its unwanted cargo. The double part better not be literal; two dogs would be even worse than one.
Still, he took the bag. Regardless of his past history with dogs, he wasn’t strong enough to refuse a beautiful woman in spandex. “See you upstairs.” Grabbing the jumble of coat and mesh and dog, he went around the front of Riley’s car to the next row so his path wouldn’t directly cross Mrs. Tyler’s.
He kept the bag pressed against his side to keep from jostling the dog with his brisk stride. On the plus side, it had to be a tiny dog to fit inside Riley’s bag. You are a grown man. You are not afraid of something that’s smaller than the average teddy bear. The mutt his mom’s ex-boyfriend used to bring over had been the size of a coffee table. Looking back, Jack realized the dog’s vicious disposition was probably in response to its owner treating it the same way the worthless SOB had treated Jack’s mother. When it came to losers, Cyndi Reed sure knew how to pick ’em.
Jack took the stairs two at a time. The dog was mostly quiet but yelped when Jack shut the apartment door behind them. After carefully setting the bag on the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room, Jack moved the coat aside. A fuzzy face stared back at him, chocolaty eyes wide with apprehension.
“I have to admit, you’re...kind of cute. For a dog.”
Dog, or was puppy more accurate? He’d taken the bag from Riley before getting a good look at the passenger inside. He’d assumed it was a small breed like a Chihuahua or a... Well, he didn’t really know the names of many dog breeds. He had no idea what this one was or if it was even close to being fully grown.
The dog pawed at the material between them.
“Sorry, but you’re staying put until Riley comes for you.” He avoided looking into the big brown eyes. “Don’t bother trying to guilt me. You’re warm and dry in there, and I have no idea if you’re housebroken.” Especially if his suspicion about it being a young puppy was true.
Despite Jack’s sound reasoning, the dog protested with increasingly loud whining. Although he and Riley had the only two units on this floor, Jack turned on his television to help mask the noise. “Calm down, fuzz-bucket.”
Too bad he didn’t have any dog treats to placate the pocket-size beast. What kind of human food was suitable for canine consumption? Luckily, he knew who to ask for recommendations. He was leaning on his kitchen counter, exchanging texts with Dr. Juliet Burke, when there was a knock at his door. The puppy barked in earnest, which made Jack grin in spite of himself.
“Yeah, you’re a very tough watchdog.” He crossed from the kitchen to the living room to answer the door. “No one would dare mess with you.”
“Jack? It’s me, Riley.”
He opened the door to find her dripping in the hallway. “You look soaked to the skin,” he said, ushering her inside. “Mrs. Tyler couldn’t postpone chatting with you until you were out of the rain?”
Riley smirked. Despite being drenched, she seemed to be in a good mood. “She was more outraged than rational. See, someone
