Shit.
Behren Young was a legend, and he was in Coeur d’Alene.
Dodger stood stiffly and saved the number under the nameBehren.
Nothing had changed, and everything had changed.
If Behren was telling him to go get his daughter…if Dodger had the approval of the big bad wolf himself…what should he do?
Something was happening inside of him.
Something big, and unavoidable.
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was inside his house, pulling jeans on. What? He closed his eyes again and he was brushing his teeth, his haunted face hollow in the mirror. He blinked again, and he was in his truck, and the scent of his own cologne was heavy. He cast a glance up at the rearview mirror, and he was wearing a charcoal gray beanie. When had he put that on?
A blink and he was suddenly taking a right on the main highway that would lead him to Coeur d’Alene.
That would lead him to Destiny.
Chapter Twelve
Destiny’s hair rose on the back of her neck.
She narrowed her eyes at the front door. Dodger was here again.
She lived on a street of duplexes, and hers was on the very end, near a few empty lots that led to a creek.
Sunday and Monday night, she’d seen Dodger’s truck pull up, and then pull away. Now, she recognized the throaty sound of his engine. He hadn’t shown up last night that she knew of, but he was here now.
Unlike the other nights, this time was different though. He stopped in front of her house instead of at the edge of the cul-de-sac near the woods.
He was taunting her. Teasing her. Ignoring her by being just close enough for her to feel him and then disappearing again.
Not this time.
Anger flared up inside of her and she shoved her feet into her snow boots and yanked open her front door.
The wind was bitterly cold, but she didn’t care about that. Her skin was on fire with her fury. Sure enough, he was parked across the street. He was getting out of his truck, and damn him, he was even hotter than she remembered with his cool guy beanie, and powerful legs that were ten feet freaking long, and his muscles showing through his tight blue sweater, and his cologne that was already filling up her senses from here.
He looked up, and his face lit up. He held out his arms, and right before she reached him, he said, “Why do you look so mad?”
“Because I am mad!” she yelled, shoving him as hard as she could in the chest. And that wretched man insulted her by not moving an inch. So, she pushed him again. And again.
“Stop, stop,” he said, backing up finally. “What are you doing?”
“You are the worst! You are so mean!” she yelled.
“I’m mean?” he asked. “Come on woman, you can do better than that.”
“You’re…you’re…a chocolate chip cookie with raisins instead of chocolate!”
His frosty eyes cooled as he stood just inside his open doorway. “I thought you were running out here to hug me. Not push me.”
“Why would I hug you? I should kick your shins right through your legs, and…and…laugh at you.”
“Laugh at me?”
“Yeah!” God, she was not good at insulting people. “Laugh at you while you roll around in the dirty snow with boneless legs. And kick snow on you!”
