by J. B. Lynn
Marshmallow barked once.
Calamity growled.
Marshmallow turned tail and went to find more agreeable company.
Jane was tempted to follow suit, considering hostility seemed to be coming off of Tom in waves.
Chapter 7
Tom had to give Jane Bly credit. She’d mastered the art of looking bewildered. Her eyes were wide and little furrows lined her forehead giving the impression she couldn’t quite grasp what was going on. She looked so damn cute he wanted to kiss her.
Instead, he glowered at her.
Which just seemed to make her more confused.
He’d been watching her for a little while, having arrived at the park just after the other pet sitter. He’d kept his distance, making sure he went unnoticed so he could watch their interaction.
He’d questioned that woman, Dianne, regarding the second break-in since she’d previously worked for Mrs. Zellmer before her poodle passed away three months earlier. It was Dianne who’d helpfully mentioned in passing that the robberies had begun not long after Jane had encroached on her territory. Like Jane, Dianne had been high on his list of suspects until he’d learned she’d been doing an all-day, all-night charity walk when the second robbery had occurred. Pictures of her participation, plastered all over social media, confirmed her alibi.
Watching from afar, reading their body language, he’d ascertained that the discussion between Dianne and Jane hadn’t been a pleasant one. Things hadn’t improved with the arrival of the nanny, another of the suspects Tom had been able to eliminate. She’d been was out-of-state on a trip with her church group at the time the first robbery had occurred.
He’d waited until the nanny was gone before approaching Jane. He’d planned on keeping things light, but then he’d heard her talking about being a thief.
“Do you want to sit down?” Jane didn’t wait for an answer, instead making a beeline to a bench shaded by a large oak tree. Her dog went with her.
Tom had no choice but to follow.
Jane sat on the bench and patted the seat next to her.
Tom lowered himself beside her.
She stared off into the distance, watching the dogs explore and play. “I expected you to have a bigger dog.” She chuckled self-consciously. “And one that didn’t come with so much pink.”
“Marshmallow’s not mine. I’m doing someone a favor by bringing her here.”
“Oh.” She seemed relieved. Bending over, she scratched behind the ear of the dog sitting on her feet. “Do you have one of your own?”
“Not anymore.” He wasn’t able to keep the bitterness from his tone.
He knew she heard it because she flinched, but she didn’t push the issue and he was grateful. He asked, “Is this your only dog?”
She looked at him sideways before answering. “She’s not mine. She’s a foster dog.”
“Foster dog?”
“I take in rescued dogs who aren’t doing well in the shelter. Often times a dog like Calamity does better with the quiet and routine of a private home instead of the chaos of a shelter. I teach them the basics. Make them more adoptable.”
“Her name is Calamity?”
The dog tilted her head in his direction upon hearing him speak her name.
Jane chuckled. “They run out of names. Someone was obviously joking when they named her that. When I met her, all she’d do was cower in the back of her cage.”
“And now look at her.” Tom leaned forward and held out his hand so that the dog could sniff it.
“Don’t—” Jane began to warn, but stopped when Calamity cautiously sniffed Tom’s fingers.
“Good girl,” Tom said softly.
The dog stretched out on the ground, so he leaned back in his seat.
“Wow,” Jane breathed, seeming to be awed.
“What?”
“She didn’t growl at you.”
“You said that before.”
“But she growls at everybody.
“You said that before too,” he huffed, remembering that she’d avoided his question after he’d caught her talking about being a thief.
“You seem tense. Bad day?”
“Things aren’t going the way I’d hoped,” he admitted. That was the truth. He’d hoped to have this case wrapped up. Instead, another break-in had occurred. He’d hoped that Jane wasn’t involved, but her talk of thievery had shot that down.
Jane clucked her sympathy. “I know how that goes.”
Something in her voice, wistfulness maybe, as though she was longing for something missing in her life, made him say, “Tell me about it.”
She shook her head.
Intrigued, he turned in his seat so he could see her better. She was bent over at the waist, petting the top of Calamity’s head.
“I’m a good listener,” he coaxed. “What’s not going the way you’d hoped?”
Straightening she gazed at the other frolicking dogs. She shrugged. “Life. Life isn’t going the way I’d hoped. Obviously. I mean, who expects to be a professional pet sitter at thirty-two? Not me. I had plans and then poof.” She snapped her fingers. “It was all gone.”
“What happened?” He told himself he was asking for purely professional reasons.
“My parents died at the start of my senior year in college so I never finished.”
“I’m sorry.” He watched with fascination as she curled her hands into fists.
She shook her head. “You shouldn’t be. They died together and they died doing what they loved, which is more than most people can say.”
“What happened?”
For a long moment he didn’t think she was going to answer him, but then Calamity licked her hand and she relaxed a little.
“They were dancing. One moment they’re doing the tango—I know that because I was given the CD they’d been playing—and the next, an out-of-control tractor trailer smashes into the studio and kills them instantly.” She dashed away an errant tear. “They didn’t suffer.”
Tom put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He could feel the tension threatening to shake her apart. “I’m sorry.”
“I told you, don’t be. They had the most passionate relationship I’ve ever seen.” She let out a shaky breath. “I’m not sure that one of them could have survived without the other.”
Tom closed the distance between them on the bench so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. “I meant I’m sorry for your loss. It must have been terrible to lose them like that.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “My life was headed in one direction and then, with that phone call from the police, everything changed. I was suddenly so alone.”
As though revealing the depth of her loneliness worried her, she quickly straightened her shoulder and lifted her chin. “ Sorry. It’s bad form to whine on a date.” She sniffled. “Armani would not be pleased,” she joked lightly. She tilted her head back and offered him a tremulous smile. “Promise me you won’t tell her? Otherwise I might never get my car repaired.”
Tom didn’t plan to kiss her. It just happened. She looked so beautiful and vulnerable and he was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to make her feel better, so he covered her mouth with his. A shockwave of sensation ricocheted through his body, obliterating all reason.
He slipped his hand behind her so he could cradle the back of her head as he increased the pressure on her lips, needing to feel and taste more of her.
Caught off-guard, her fingertips fluttered against his throat as though they didn’t quite know where to land.
Her lips parted beneath his and the tip of her tongue teased his.
He groaned as the current of energy sparking between them grew stronger. She whimpered, helpless in response, as though she too was caught up in the riptide of desire flooding through him.
The dog’s growl acted like an instant cold shower. Tom and Jane leapt apart guiltily.
“Jealous thing, isn’t she?” Tom joked when he’d regained some semblance of control over h
is buzzing body.
“I don’t think she’s growling at you.” Jane’s breathing was still ragged. She pointed toward the fence. “It’s Graham.”
Calamity growled louder as though to confirm Jane’s guess.
Tom peered at a white van parked outside the park. He couldn’t see the driver, “Who’s Graham?”
“The local handyman.”
“A guy with access to a lot of homes,” Tom mused aloud.
Jane looked at him strangely. “The same could be said about me.”
While the dog continued to growl, Tom squinted at the license plate, memorizing it so that he could run it later.
Chapter 8
“Hush, Calamity,” Jane said quietly. She jumped off the bench and bent down to pet the growling dog. For once the dog wasn’t shaking.
Jane surreptitiously snuck a peek at Tom who was studying Graham’s van intently. Her insides were still trembling from that unexpected kiss. She’d never felt anything like that before. Sure, she’d enjoyed her share of pleasurable kisses, but nothing like that. It had been all consuming and she hadn’t wanted it to end.
She looked down at the dog, unsure if she should be grateful to the mutt for interrupting.
“Hey, you okay?” Tom asked softly.
“Yeah.” She stood up, not quite sure how to act after the kiss.
Since he stayed seated, it was the first time she was taller than him. He still managed to look imposing. His gaze roamed over her appreciatively, cataloguing every inch of her body before settling again on her face.
Her cheeks burned. “I… um… I should get back to Mr. Sterling.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Who’s that?”
She pointed to the Pomeranian who seemed to be playing tag with Marshmallow.
He nodded. “I should get back to work too.” Instead of moving, he sat still, watching her carefully. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” She practically squeaked. “Yeah. Sure.”
“You look… flustered.”
“Well I wasn’t expecting…” She stopped herself before she admitted she hadn’t expected to be kissed senseless.
Tom tilted his head, observing her closely. “You’re mad I kissed you?”
“No. Not mad. I just wasn’t ready.”
Tom pitched his voice lower. “You seemed ready.”
Something tugged low in her belly in response to his sexy tone.
“You felt ready.”
Her cheeks burned hotter.
He held her gaze. “Are you ready now?”
She got the distinct impression that he was toying with her and that made her mad. A flash of anger ignited the devil inside of her and before either of them knew what was happening, she closed the distance between them, sat on his lap, and claimed his lips with her own.
She delighted as he tensed and then shuddered as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting and teasing. Resting one hand against his chest for balance, she could feel his heartbeat thudding against her palm. Her other hand cupped the stubble on his chin so she could drink her fill of him. He was delicious and exciting and even more so than she’d thought during their first kiss.
It took a superhuman effort on her part, but she managed to rip her mouth away from his. She jumped off his lap and swayed slightly, her legs wobbly, a side-effect from the kiss. She took in a big gulp of air before declaring. “That time I was ready.”
Tom’s eyes, glittering with desire, swept over her and she wasn’t sure her legs would prove strong enough to keep her upright.
“Imagine what would happen if we were both ready,” she teased weakly.
He closed his eyes.
She got the impression he really was imagining it. That in turn triggered a cascade of images in her own mind of what that kind of passion might result in.
He opened his eyes and murmured, “I’m not sure we’d survive.”
Jane knew the feeling. The desire burning between them burned hotter than anything she’d ever felt before.
A seductive smile played at his lips, as he said, “But I’d be willing to give it a try. What about you?”
She froze, unsure of whether she was willing to trade this fiery lust for the love she desperately wanted.
“But I’d really like to go out on a real date with you first. Dinner. Talking. That kind of thing. What do you say?”
She bobbed her chin. “Yes to the dinner and talking.”
“But no kissing?” He pretended to be hurt.
She was unable to hold back a smile. “We’ll see.”
He grinned his satisfaction. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“Tonight?”
“No time like the present.”
“Okay, but can we make it seven-thirty instead?”
“Your wish is my command. But now I’ve got to get back to work.” Brandishing the hot pink leash, he strode off in the direction of Marshmallow.
“Tom?” Jane called out.
He turned around.
“It might be hard to pick me up since you don’t have my address.”
A strange expression flickered across his face, but then was replaced with a wide grin. “Guess that would be helpful.”
Jane dug one of her pet sitting business cards out of purse and scribbled her address on the back. “My phone number is on the front,” she said, handing him the rectangle of cardstock.
“Thanks. Seven-thirty.” He winked at her before whirling away to reclaim the Maltese.
Calamity followed him for a few paces before looking back and realizing Jane hadn’t budged. The dog raced back to where she waited.
“You really like him, huh?” Jane asked, patting the dog’s head. “Me too.”
Feeling giddy, Jane was tempted to skip like a little girl on her way to return Mr. Sterling home, but her excitement evaporated when they rounded the corner and she saw yellow police scene tape fluttering across the front door of the Schroder place.
She fed and watered Mr. Sterling inside his home and was on her way to her next job, Calamity in tow, when Mr. Schroder waved her down.
He was standing at the end of his driveway, his shoulders more stooped than usual, talking to a woman with bright red hair.
Wondering what the proper thing to say to someone who’s been burgled might be, she crossed the street, dragging Calamity behind her.
The dog growled softly, but very quietly, as though she sensed the older man’s distress.
“How are you, Mr. Schroder?” Jane asked gently while nodding to the redhead she now saw was Mr. Schroder’s age.
The old man shook his head. “You heard?”
“Yes. I’m so very sorry.”
“Astrid is beside herself.”
“That’s understandable,” Jane murmured sympathetically. “Is there anything I can do?”
Mr. Schroder looked to his companion, a question in his cataract-clouded eyes.
“Why don’t you go check on, Astrid?” the woman suggested.
“Yes, yes. Of course.” He shuffled back toward the house.
“We haven’t been introduced.” The woman extended her hand. “I’m Ruby, an old friend of Astrid’s… emphasis on old,” she joked with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Jane. Neighborhood pet sitter.” She was surprised by the strength of the woman’s handshake.
“Oh I know who you are. People speak very highly of you.”
Jane blinked, surprised. “They do?”
“You are the Jane who called 9-1-1 and stayed with Paula Simmons when she took that nasty fall a couple of weeks ago, aren’t you?”
Jane nodded.
Ruby beamed. “Paula said you were so kind.”
“I just did what anyone else would do.”
“And who might you be?” Ruby peered around Jane at the dog hiding behind her.
“This is Calamity. She’s shy.”
Ruby smiled and bent down, holding out her hand for the dog to sniff, wisely making no move to pet her.
; The dog didn’t move, but she didn’t growl either, which Jane considered to be progress.
Thankfully, Ruby didn’t force the introduction. She straightened and said, “Walk with me, Jane.”
She marched off at a quick pace. Jane had to hurry to keep up with her.
“Sitting around that house acting like someone’s died instead of some trinkets gone missing is grating on my old nerves.”
“To lose something you love is a terrible thing,” Jane countered. She liked the Schroders and wasn’t about to let this old friend badmouth their loss.
Ruby glanced at her sharply and then threw back her head and laughed. “You’re quite right. I deserved that.” She continued a few more paces before saying, “Milton wants to get Astrid another dog. He thinks having one in the house will help her to feel safe, but what I think is that catching this thief is what will help everyone. What do you think?”
“Both might be helpful. I take it that’s what you want my help with?”
Ruby nodded.
“Do you know what kind of dog they’re looking for? Size? Breed? Sex?”
The older woman clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “I don’t want you to find a dog for them.”
“But… I thought you just said…” Jane trailed off, confused.
“I want you to help catch the thief. Who spends more of their time walking around the neighborhood than you?”
“I’ve already told the police I haven’t seen anything suspicious.”
“What about the private investigator?”
“What private investigator?” Jane asked cluelessly.
Ruby slid her a sly, sideways look. “You haven’t met him yet?”
Jane shook her head.
“Huh.” Reaching a corner, Ruby stopped as if deciding which way to turn. “Do people really shop for dogs like that? With such a rigid set of criteria?”
“Some do.”
Ruby shuddered. “It sounds like one of those awful dating site questionnaires. They make it seem like you’re ordering off a deli menu. Hold this. Extra that. And some of this on the side.”
“But some people,” Jane rushed to assure the other woman, “come into the shelter and sees who grabs their heart.”
