A Little Christmas Jingle

by Michele Dunaway

  He closed his eyes for a second and groaned. “The pet adoption.”

  “Exactly. You’re my celebrity guest.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “So why don’t you go get some sleep and pick me up at five?”

  He couldn’t resist. He reached for her, dragged her into his arms for a big hug. Big mistake. The thin material she wore concealed little, making him instantly hard. Her unfettered breasts crushed against his chest, and he clutched the silky fabric at the small of her back, gathering her to him as he brought his mouth to hers.

  She tasted delicious; he drank in her sweetness as he deepened the kiss. He expected her to draw back, and when she didn’t, one kiss stretched into another. Two became three. Three turned into four. He slid his hands lower, cupping her bottom and dragging her pelvis against his.

  “You were sleepy,” she said, her hands on the lapels of his police jacket.

  He slid his mouth down her neck, loving the trembles his lips left in their wake. “Who needs sleep?”

  Her hands found his chest, and she let out a shiver as his lips trailed along her collarbone. She rubbed against his hard length. “Oh.” Her whole body shook, and her next “Oh” dragged out longer.

  “Like that?”

  “Mmm, hmm,” her voice was suddenly an octave lower. She arched her neck, allowing his lips lower. He curved a finger under the spaghetti strap, sliding it down over the swell of her breast. He found her nipple and circled the nub. She cried out again and pressed closer to him, her need evident.

  He slid his hand into her top, cupping her breast and bringing the straining nipple to his mouth. He drew it inside, and her breath hissed. With his free hand he cupped her bottom closer to him, locking her hips onto his so he could increase the friction by inserting his leg between hers. He then pulled the other part of her top down so he could suck one breast while he rolled the other between his fingers.

  She arched back, and he took the silky fabric and rubbed it across her nipple. He resumed circling her areola with his tongue. She trembled and he sucked deeper, sending her over the edge. “I’ve never … like this …” She lost words as he shifted his leg, creating more friction. A primal surge shot through him—he’d made her this out of control, this turned on, this responsive.

  Little cries came from the back of her throat as she shattered in his arms. He wanted to explore her wetness—taste her sweetness—but he settled for recapturing her lips and keeping her upright as her legs had turned to jelly. A part of him throbbed with need. All he had to do was move his hand lower and he could lay her back on the couch and …

  But he had not come here for that. Passion could easily sweep you away—and every time he saw Kat, she tore down parts of his defenses, took down walls he’d built to surround his heart. He wanted no regrets. For either of them.

  Brown eyes he could drown in opened and blinked as she came down from the high. He kissed her again—gentler, softer. “Oh.”

  “Good?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded. “Your fingers are magical. That was—”

  “Fabulous.” He finished, his mouth back on hers for another taste. “Don’t you dare say it was a mistake.”

  A mistake? Hell no. Kat wanted more, and she reached for him, but he caught her fingers before she made contact below his belt. “If you touch me, I’ll explode.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  He reached his hands into her hair and brought his mouth down for another crushing kiss. “I haven’t showered. I’m a mess. I’ve had no sleep. I want you. But not like this.”

  “Huh?”

  “I didn’t come here to make love to you. Not that I don’t want to. I want nothing more. But our situation is complicated and I haven’t even romanced you.” He winced. “Did that come out right?”

  “Jury is still out. You got me all hot and bothered and—”

  “Shh.” He put a finger to her lips. “You are beautiful. I want you. But you deserve …” He paused—for a man who could remember everything, finding the right words shouldn’t be so difficult.

  She frowned. “Deserve what?”

  “More.” He thrust his hands into his pockets. “I don’t have a good track record. I’m not looking for commitment. But friends with benefits sounds somehow cheap. Much less than you deserve.”

  Kat crossed her arms. As much as she appreciated Jack’s calling a halt, part of her wished he hadn’t. “So what do you propose?”

  “Let’s slow this down. See how things unfold.” The pink silk hugging her breasts made him inwardly groan. He wanted to sink inside her and find the release he craved, and damn the consequences. But his mother had raised a gentleman. Kat deserved better than a roll in the hay. She deserved better than him, too, but he ignored that. “If we change the rules, it shouldn’t be because we gave into a moment of passion. Because I don’t want any regrets between us.”

  “That’s fair,” Kat said. She could respect him for that.

  He turned, took a step toward the door, clearly reluctant to go. “You said you liked pot roast?”

  “Love it,” Kat said.

  “Then I’ll pick you up at five.”

  Chapter Nine

  “We’ve got a good crowd,” Louise noted the following Saturday. Not yet nine a.m., and the clinic parking lot was full; the lobby was packed. Vet techs wearing elf hats passed out candy canes. A fat, white-bearded Santa Claus sat by the Christmas tree, and an elf assistant stood by ready to take both human and pet photographs with jolly St. Nick.

  They’d brought the adoptable animals into the lobby and cleared a way to a special area devoted to cats. The patient rooms had been set aside for getting-to-know-you time. Everyone was working today, including a small army of volunteers who held leashes to very excited, yapping dogs, each one hoping for a new family. The fundraising committee had helpfully sent a huge stack of calendars, and already they’d sold thirteen. Kat expected them to fly off the shelf once Jack arrived.

  “Where is Mr. December?” Louise asked, as if reading Kat’s thoughts.

  “He’ll be here at ten.” At least that’s what he’d told her last night over the phone. After being all hot and heavy Sunday morning, Jack had then kept his distance, giving her a chaste kiss good night after his family dinner, a dinner that had been interesting to say the least. She’d liked Jack’s family—a rowdy and raucous bunch who threw things out there, unlike her family functions, which were much quieter and more sedate. And the pot roast had been delicious.

  This week Jack had been busy with investigations, and while he called daily to check on Jingle, he hadn’t been by the clinic. That made sense, Kat knew. No need to be joined at the hip, and already the deep timbre of his voice had her anticipating his phone calls. She’d discovered how easily she could fall into bed with Jack—no way should she risk falling for a man who made it clear he didn’t want any type of long-term commitment, something she eventually did want. Perhaps her New Year’s resolution should be to get back out there. Time to stop making excuses, like telling herself she’d never find Mr. Right, so why bother trying?

  “Kat, this is Mrs. Schneider and her daughter Lizzy. They’re interested in an older cat.” Angela stood there with a woman and child.

  “Black kitty,” Lizzy, who looked about three, insisted.

  “She’s rather rambunctious. I thought an older cat might be more able to tolerate her enthusiastic petting than a hyper kitten,” Angela suggested.

  “A good idea,” Kat agreed, “especially as you can tell an older cat’s temperament much better than a kitten’s. Have you ever had a cat before?”

  “I had them growing up,” Mrs. Schneider said. “It’s just me and Lizzy at home, and now that’s she’s older, I told her we could get a cat for Christmas.”

  Lizzy danced on one foot as Kat held out her hand. “Come with me. I have the perfect cat for you.” She led them back to the cat area and stopped in front of a big black and white tuxedo cat. “This is Jinx. He loves kids.”

/>   Lizzy held out her fingers, and the cat eased forward to sniff. “Jinx. Hi Jinx!”

  She stuck her fingers through the wires, and the cat rubbed against them. Lizzy laughed.

  “How about we put you in a room and take him out of his crate?” Kat asked. “He’s neutered and up-to-date on all his shots.”

  “My kitty,” Lizzy said, fingers still stretched through the wire.

  “Let’s,” Mrs. Schneider agreed. “He’s a pretty cat. We may just have found the one for us.”

  Kat called for a volunteer, who took everyone to get acquainted. Then she turned to see Jack there staring at her oddly.

  “Hi. Glad you made it.”

  “Quite the crowd.” Jack observed. His hands remained in his pockets, tension obvious.

  “More than last year. I’m very hopeful. Our goal is to clear the shelter and place every animal.” Kat drank him in. He wore a maroon flannel shirt tucked into fitted blue jeans, showing his very nice backside. His blond hair was swept back, making him every bit the hot Mr. December of the calendar, albeit with more clothes. “They are going to gobble you up,” she said.

  The corners of his lips twitched. “Sounds so appealing … Unless you’re planning some gobbling yourself.”

  She flushed with giddy heat and checked the automatic “Maybe later.” She had to be professional. Instead she said, “I know this is difficult for you.” She gestured around. “But just wait and see. I’ll think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  “Which is why I’m here.” She waited. “And for you,” he added with the hint of a smile. “How’s Jingle doing? I’ve missed him.”

  “He’s turned a corner. Jeff Andrews called to see when he’ll be ready for adoption, but we’re months away, so he’s staying put. However, he convinced me to show him to the media next week. He said we need to keep his progress in the news.”

  “Definitely.”

  A volunteer poked her head in. “Kat, we have another adopter who’d like a cat.”

  “Coming. Can you show Jack where the calendar table is?”

  “Sure.”

  “That’s your cue.”

  Jack followed a woman he didn’t recognize out to a small folding table that had been staged with two black Sharpie markers and huge stacks of calendars. Immediately a small queue formed, and as the volunteer assisted, Jack lost sight of Kat. He had a pretty steady flow of traffic, and two hours later his hand hurt. He’d easily signed more than two hundred calendars.

  “Cookie?”

  He recognized that voice. Knew it well. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

  She held out a green platter with an assortment of edibles. “Surprise! We came to support Kat. Figured she might need some sustenance. Also Sharon and Matt are here for a dog. Surely you remember? Or weren’t you paying attention Sunday when they were discussing that they might adopt a pet?”

  Jack leaned around to see his nephew Matthew jumping up and down. The entire family had shown up for pot roast, making the table crowded. He thought back, reviewing the conversation like replaying a movie. “Oh yeah.” His attention had been elsewhere. His leg had been pressed next to Kat’s, and he’d been close enough to have a view down her shirt, which had caused him to relive how he’d rolled his tongue over her breasts and …

  “Earth to Jack.” His mom waved a hand in front of his face. “I’m also here because I need ten calendars and you still haven’t brought them by the house.”

  That had been a deliberate oversight on his part. She set the cookies down and began to count on her fingers. “It’s not everyday your son is a local hero. There’s my three sisters, my friends Betty, Pam, Lisa … better give me eleven to be safe. I have a list somewhere. Might need more.”

  Lovely. Now everyone would be staring at him half naked next Christmas.

  She rummaged through her Mary Poppins purse for the list, and Jack uncapped the Sharpie marker. Sharon and Matthew left to find a full-grown dog. He couldn’t see his staid brother dealing with house training a puppy.

  He signed all his mother’s calendars, and then much to his relief, she went off to help pick out the dog. There were five calendars left, and those sold quickly. He was done. He stretched out his legs and leaned back in the plastic chair.

  His watch read noon. Kat’s event would run for another four hours, but she’d told him he didn’t need to stay. He surveyed the scene. People with and without pets posed with Santa. A jar marked “For Jingle” contained loose change and bills—he could see at least one twenty and several fives. Under the tree, people placed unwrapped pet items to be donated to shelter pets. All around workers had clipboards with adoption applications. It was like being at an auction—you couldn’t help but want to buy something and take it home.

  Into this fray entered two men. Jack recognized one from his research. Fred Fennewald. Head of the neighborhood association. The other had his phone out, recording. Jack rose to his feet, went to greet both. “Fred,” Jack held out his hand. “Detective Jack Donovan. Nice to meet you.”

  Fred’s hand was a limp fish as the men shook. “You’re that detective. You’re the one who dismissed my complaint.”

  “Yes,” Jack said amiably, giving Fred’s hand a firm squeeze before he let go. “Here to adopt a pet?”

  “I have three Shih Tzus.”

  “Then a photo with Santa?” Jack offered, pointing toward the tree.

  “No,” Fred replied testily. “Are you here to shut her down? Shouldn’t you be?”

  “That’s zoning,” Jack replied. “I deal with abuse cases. I told you that when we spoke.”

  “She has dogs standing in filth.”

  “Not that I’ve seen and I’ve been here almost every day.”

  “They bark all night. Disturb the neighborhood.”

  “You have a zoning issue,” Jack said. “There is no evidence of abuse here.”

  “Not now. You’re probably in cahoots.”

  “Fred.” Kat approached, frown etching her face. Behind her was Jack’s family, a raven-colored poodle in Matthew’s arms.

  “Public events aren’t allowed by the covenants,” Fred said forcefully. He seemed agitated. “People are parked on the street as your lot isn’t big enough.”

  “There is nothing illegal about parking on the street,” Kat said.

  “I have trouble driving down it. What if someone hits my car? This was a quiet neighborhood. Now there are dogs barking and … I have what I need. We’ll be going.”

  The moment he and his friend shuffled out the door, Jack could see Kat deflating, the highs of her success replaced with Fred’s low blow. So Jack said, “A poodle?”

  In response, the dog in Matthew’s arms barked. “Look Uncle Jack. I got a dog. Not one of those little ones either.” He beamed from ear to ear.

  “Please tell me you aren’t going to put bows in its hair,” Jack teased.

  “He’s a boy,” Matthew announced. “Boy dogs don’t have bows. Isn’t he awesome?”

  “Poodles are very loyal and don’t shed much,” Kat inserted the dog’s merits before Jack could reply. “They are very smart and family oriented.”

  “And not that big,” Sharon added.

  “He’s perfect,” Matthew announced. “He’s my Christmas present. I’m going to go tell Santa I have the one thing I really wanted.”

  “I’ll take you over there,” Joyce said, leading her grandson away. “We can take a picture.” Matt’s gaze trailed after them, before returning to Jack and Kat.

  “So what was Fennewald doing here?” Jack’s brother asked.

  “Causing trouble,” Kat said. Jack grabbed her hand for support. “But I wasn’t going to cancel this event, even if Fred decides to sue me for this too. We’ve placed over half the animals. If they do shut me down, where would they have gone?”

  “Well, we are quite pleased with our dog,” Sharon said, changing the subject. “He’s two and already trained. What could be better? Let’s go finish the paperwork. Matthew,
that’s a cute picture,” Sharon called, heading toward Santa.

  “Good luck,” Matt said. “The guy with him is Kevin Banner. He’s an ambulance chaser. Gives my profession a bad name.” He followed his wife.

  “You okay?” Jack asked Kat.

  She sagged against him. “I’ll just be glad when the case is over. One way or the other, at least I’ll have some closure. Until then, there’s nothing anyone can do, so let’s get these animals into some good homes. You staying?”

  Jack had at least twenty things he needed to do, things he hadn’t managed to get done all week, like getting the oil in his car changed, getting his laundry done, getting his house cleaned. But only Kat mattered. Because they were at her workplace, he resisted the urge to kiss even her forehead, as he longed to do. “I’m staying.”

  His decision made those beautiful brown eyes brighten, and she perked up. He’d made her happy, and he liked that. Kat handed him a clipboard and an elf hat.

  “That lovely couple right there has picked out brother and sister cats. We’d hoped to place them together and we have.” She smiled at him and touched his arm, all the motivation he needed as it hinted at the promise of things to come. “I’ll let you help them with their adoption paperwork.”

  He stared at the elf hat and the clipboard as she slipped away, recognizing the dare. He’d meet Kat’s challenge, so he channeled his inner Will Ferrell, slid the green and yellow elf hat on his head, and waded in to help. He saw Kat only in passing the rest of the afternoon. The cookies his mom brought were long gone, as was most of the other food. He’d managed to snag three candy canes. His stomach rumbled as Kat finally locked the back door after the last of her employees left at five fifteen.

  “What a day,” she said. She wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. “All but three. That’s a new record.”

  “You had great publicity with Jingle being here.”

  “And you. Two hundred ten calendars. I didn’t get enough.”

  He couldn’t imagine signing more. “My mother ended up buying twelve. I was lucky there weren’t more people on her list.”