Bluetick Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page B

Then I opened a jar of Ragu and poured it into a large pot. I dumped
     some cabernet into it, then squeezed a little lemon juice into the mixture, and finished by sprinkling in some ground cinnamon
     and clove. “Pepper’s secret recipe,” I said.
    After dinner we watched TV. I sat in my recliner. She and Prince sat on the couch, with Buck and Wheat on a rug near the fireplace.
     As best I can recall, we watched a medical drama, a legal drama, and snippets of
Scooby-Doo
during commercials. I like
Scooby-Doo
. At ten-thirty, after the sports news, I stood and announced, “I think it’s time for me to hit the hay.”
    “Do you want some company?” she asked.

5
    T HE SADDEST THING was not that she had been willing to sleep with me after knowing me twelve hours, though that was sad. It was not that I
     had stayed up until one a.m. attempting to convince her I was not rejecting her, though that was sad, too. The saddest thing
     was that I had been tempted. I had a wonderful woman in my life, but I had been tempted to sleep with Karlynn Slade. Why?
     For the novelty of it? Simply because I was a man? Or was I subconsciously mad at Jayne because she’d opted to spend nine
     months teaching in the People’s Republic of China? I would let those questions percolate.
    Despite my lack of sleep, I woke before she did. By seven I was sipping coffee at the long oak dining table and reading the
Rocky Mountain News
. The dogs had already been out, and all three now lay beside me on the hardwood floor. The paper reminded me it was Thanksgiving,
     and I gave thanks I’d had the good sense not to sleep with Karlynn Slade.
    Not that there was anything wrong with her body. That was fine, but there was a lot wrong with her mind. I’d spent more than
     two hours trying to explain that to her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I had said. I saw the hurt in her eyes as soon
     as I’d said it, and knew it was just a matter of time until the tears began to flow.
    “Aren’t you attracted to me?” she asked from her seat on the couch. A dangerous question under the best circumstances. A potentially
     lethal question when asked by a recovering meth addict coming off a relationship with the leader of a sadistic biker gang.
    “You’re very attractive,” I said, “but I’m being paid to protect you.”
    “So?”
    “I can’t do that if my judgment is clouded.”
    “I could rock your world,” she said.
    “It’s not hard to do,” I replied.
    “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” Another dangerous question.
    “No,” I said patiently, “I don’t think I’m better than you.” I paused to consider my words. “I think we are two very different
     people. And I think you’re vulnerable right now because you’re under tremendous pressure. You’ve just spent thirty days in
     a treatment program and your body is still adjusting to being drug free. Your husband wants you dead and the feds are threatening
     you with prison unless you testify against him and give up the only life you’ve ever known. You’re scared, and I don’t blame
     you. It’s natural to want to latch on to someone else under those circumstances.”
    Then the tears came. I walked over to the couch, sat down beside her, and held her hands. “I’m not a bad person,” she sobbed.
    “I know that,” I said. “I knew that as soon as I saw you with Prince.” She looked down at him and continued crying.
    “My life is such a mess,” she said. I walked to the bathroom and carried back a box of tissues. She took a few and wiped her
     eyes.
    “How old are you?” I asked. “Thirty? Thirty-two? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
    It had gone on like that for several hours. During that time we talked about everything from her codependency to my career
     as a Marine Corps JAG. She seemed to enjoy listening to my anecdotes and tales of my travels. Alaska particularly fascinated
     her as I recounted an adventure that had taken Scott