Page 1 of Big Dog
Chapter One
It’s mine. All mine. I’m now an official resident of the greater Lonesome area. Me, Rosemary Turner, landowner and business proprietress. My little girl self who dreamed of being a hairdresser would be so proud.
My sister, who has been handing out paper cups with some cheap, not-from-the-Champagne-region-of-France bubbly, gives me a bump when she comes to stand beside me. “Attention, everyone. To Romy. Congratulations on your purchase of Camp Sunny-Lu. I know the Crosses are happy that it’s moved into such good hands. We wish you all the haircuts and manicures in the world,” Violet says loyally as she hands me a glass.
She doesn’t mention herself or the woman standing with her. They are two of my silent partners; nobody but me and the lawyers know about them for now. As of today, I am the face of the Sunny-Lu Salon and Spa.
“Thank you very much, Violet, and thank you, everybody for coming out today. I hope to see everyone back at the Sunny-Lu Salon for a haircut when we open. Not that you all don’t already look amazing. I’ll just help bring you up to the next level,” I say with a laugh. The small crowd laughs too. I’ve alreadyunofficially claimed the title of local hairdresser since I’ve been giving kitchen chair haircuts to half the women in Lonesome while I looked for a place to set up shop. Now, with a little help from my friends and family, I’ll have an official place to do it.
The empty building is warm despite the open windows because air-conditioning is non-existent. Since the entire interior is about to be thoroughly renovated and all my guests know it, nobody complains. Some of them may be questioning my decision to open a salon and spa in an abandoned children’s summer camp but I know what I’m doing. I hope.
I continue my rounds, making sure to greet all the ladies from town and get introductions to the women I don’t know from the surrounding areas. There are also a surprising number of men in attendance. I don’t expect to see all of them in my chair for haircuts, but Violet lets me know that a few of them have approached her asking if I intend to offer gift cards for salon services. I sure as hell am planning on it now. Nothing sounds better than making it easy for men to give me money while providing the perfect present to the women in their lives.
I whip out my phone and add “Gift Cards” to my endless to do list before I forget it.
Deep male laughter erupts from across the room. I look up and see my future brother-in-law, Deacon, talking to his brother. They both have brown hair and green eyes but that’s where the similarity ends. His older brother, Bishop Dobermann, is a retired Army Ranger who is a few inches taller, a few inches wider across the chest, and a few degrees hotter. I’d happily put him on my to-do list too. Violet says Bishop is a lot more straight-laced than Deacon and is constantly pulling the pranksters in the garage back in line. She makes solid and dependable sound boring. I think it’s sexy as hell that he’s mature enough that he doesn’t need to swing his dick around to be respected.
We have met once before, but I don’t really remember it. I blame the concussion. I have a vague memory of rough hands and soft touches, but that’s it. I’m dying to know if the reality matches the hazy dream, but Bishop seems to be avoiding me. Seeing him, I realize that I haven’t even seen him at a distance since that night.
Deacon gives me a chance to get close when he calls me over to join him and the other men from the Lonesome Garage. When I get there, Deke pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and waves it in my face. “What is this?” he demands.
“I don’t know. Hold it still.” When the letters stop moving, I frown. “That’s my flyer requesting contractor referrals. I posted it on the bulletin board in Carol’s Laundrette. It’s not doing me any good in your pocket, Deacon.”
“I took it down to save you time. Why deal with all the trouble of talking to every contractor in the state when one man can set you up with the best of the best?”
I need somebody to check the roofs of the buildings, another to fix cracked and broken windowpanes, an electrician, and a plumber to go over long unused utilities. That’s just to start. “Why? Do you know somebody?”
“God, you’re a ballbuster. I’m surprised you don’t try to do everything yourself. Yes, I know somebody. You know him too.” Then he points to Bishop. “He’s your man.”
Bishop chokes on his mouthful of Prosecco and turns an alarming shade of red.
I was looking for an excuse. The man is gorgeous, smart, and drama-free. Plus, he’s former military so I know he’s trained and self-sufficient enough to take care of himself. Bishop is precisely my type without the problem of a chain of command to consider. And, thanks to my awesome almost-brother-in-law, he’s being served up on a silver platter. “Excellent,” I say.
Chapter Two
Our mother will miss my baby brother dearly, but she’ll never be able to prove it was me. The little shit has me between a rock and a hard dick, and he knows it. Ever since Romy Turner came to town, I’ve been trying my fucking hardest to stay away from her. I’ve been doing a good job of it too. Now Deke is feeding me like chum to a shark. I’d be really pissed if I wasn’t a little excited at the prospect.
The first and only time I spent any time with Romy, she was sporting a black eye and a split lip from trying to fight off the home invader who kidnapped her niece. She was in rough shape. Not too rough, though. She patted me on the cheek and called me handsome while I was getting her cleaned up before the medic got there. That one word has caused a lot of sleepless nights on my part.
Ninety-nine percent of me railed at seeing such a sweet young thing beat to hell. She looked like a teenaged babysitter who went three rounds with a boxer. The last percent was impressed that someone barely into her twenties got some licks in against a trained Navy SEAL with over a decade of experience.
It’s that one percent that has me dodging her at every turn. I’m only thirty-eight, but that’s a lifetime compared to aninnocent like her. She doesn’t look old enough to drink in the snug jeans and fitted top that she’s wearing. If her big blue eyes weren’t enough of a draw, according to Deacon and Violet, she’s naïve enough to think she can make a go of a spa in rural North Dakota. It would be cute except for the fact that she’s going to lose her shirt.
I can’t comprehend why my brother is encouraging her to invest in an already doomed venture. We know what it’s like to own a private business. Romy is too nice. She’s going to be eaten alive. “I have some guys who will do a quality job, but they’re expensive. The cheap guys are even more expensive since you’ll have to spend the money twice after their cut corners bite you in the ass.” If I’m obligated to participate in this travesty, maybe I can limit her losses.
“Isn’t it a good thing that I’ll have you to advise me on my choices then. Want to discuss my options over breakfast, tomorrow?” Romy asks.
“He’s free,” Deacon pipes up.
“Fantastic. I’m buying,” she offers.
“Like hell,” I say before I can stop myself. As if I’d take anything from her besides that sweet smile. Fuck, now I’m committed. “Breakfast tomorrow at the Halfway Café. Eight o’clock.”
“Looking forward to it!” Romy gives me a bright smile like I’m not going to break her heart with what I have to tell her. Then she moves on to the next group of party guests.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand of Deacon. He’s never set me up with a woman before—we Dobermanns have never needed the help—and I can’t imagine he wants to start with his sister-in-law.
“Romy is practically my little sister now. Unfortunately, she’s a knock-out, and she’s a new business owner. She needs somebody in her corner who isn’t some horny fuck trying to hiton her. Violet says she’s not worried about Romy’s business, and I don’t want her to be. So, be a good big brother and set Romy up with the best guys you know, would you?”
