by Unknown
Something Kitty still hadn’t forgiven her for.
“I know you’re upset, but when you’re done being angry about something that can’t be fixed, you can come out and have some tuna.”
Nothing.
“You know you want it.” She held up a plate of cat food and placed it right outside the cage.
Kitty lifted his head and eyed his dinner with serious intent, then gave Shay a scathing look that said, Yeah right. The last time you did that I ended up in this cage.
“Okay, I know today totally blew.” Shay reached out to gently brush his tail, not going any higher, just allowing him to get used to the sensation of being touched. “Mine did too.”
Kitty didn’t retreat to the back of the cage as he had before, but he didn’t look like he was going to come out either, so Shay moved her hand to the top of his head to deliver a little scratch. He watched her carefully, eyes full of heartbreaking mistrust, refusing to give in to the affection.
“Yodel when to his forever home today.” Shay opened the Facebook app on her phone and showed Kitty Fantastic a picture of Yodel she had taken earlier that afternoon and swallowed hard. “Look, that’s Yodel and his new mama, Ms. Abernathy.”
Mew. Kitty Fantastic lifted his head, nudging it into Shay’s hand, and she felt a simultaneous nudge on her heart. He hadn’t come out, but he’d made the first step into forgiving her.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she whispered, then felt her eyes tear up again. “I think I needed that as much as you did.” To show Kitty that Shay was willing to give a little too, and to distract herself before the waterworks got out of hand, she placed a piece of tuna inside his cage so he could easily reach it.
Whiskers in action, he sniffed it and gave the morsel a tentative lick, then another.
“There’s more where that came from,” she said, setting the next piece a few inches closer. “No cage this time, just a warm lap and a good old-fashioned cuddle session.”
Shay could use a good cuddle today. And Kitty wasn’t the only stubborn male that came to mind.
Sitting under that tree with Jonah was one of the best nights she’d had in a long time. He’d been sweet, funny, and so attentive it made her forget why maintaining distance was important. It also made her forget that he wasn’t her type. Because the truth was, Jonah was every woman’s type. She just wasn’t sure if she was his.
And that scared her. Oh, she knew he wanted her, but for how long?
A buzzing sounded from Shay’s purse. She bent over and pulled her phone out, the whole time hoping it was Jonah so she could thank him for helping with Yodel, but praying it wasn’t because she wasn’t sure what to say.
She looked at the screen and sighed. “Hey, Clovis.”
“You gotta get down to the old barbershop,” Clovis said, sounding winded. “Mr. Russell is here and he’s ready to talk about leasing the space.”
“Tonight?” Shay looked down at the two blue slits that studied her from the carrier, then to her attire.
“Right now!”
“I can’t right now.” She was in her PAWS OFF pajamas, her face was blotchy from missing Yodel, and she had Kitty to think about. She knew he was upset, but he needed to eat so he could have his next round of antibiotics.
And she needed more time. Because talking led to decisions, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to make this kind of decision.
The idea of a St. Paws adoption shelter in town had merit, and so much potential she was afraid to even consider it. When the ladies had first brought it up she’d immediately rejected it, because she wasn’t sure if St. Helena was the kind of place she’d want to live for the long haul. But looking now around her house, at what she’d created, the friends she’d made here, Shay began to wonder if she wasn’t sure because she’d never tried it before.
When her mom passed, Shay had quickly become accustomed to switching homes, schools, friends. Every year like clockwork her life changed, leaving her nothing to hold on to, so the idea of forever with the same people was foreign to her. Terrifying, even.
But St. Helena was starting to feel different. She felt different being here. Grounded. Happy. The question then was: Was this town and were these people different enough to make it official and to lock herself into a long-term lease?
“Can we do it tomorrow?”
“It’s gotta be now,” Clovis said in a tone that told Shay not to argue. “Mr. Russell is heading out in the morning for the East Coast and we’ve got him cornered, ready to make you a deal.”
Shay sat up. “What do you mean by cornered?”
“Caught that son of a bitch daisy-chaining his electricity to mine. It seems the man’s also been siphoning water and heat from my shop since last winter.”
Oh boy. “Me and the girls have him ready to make you an offer, but you gotta get down here before he realizes Ida’s gun is nothing but a water pistol.”
Shay leaped up and grabbed her jeans off the back of her chair. “Put the gun down. I will be there right after I drop off Kitty Fantastic with a sitter. Fifteen minutes tops.” There was a long pause that told Shay Clovis was going to do nothing of the sort. “I mean it, Clovis. Put the gun down or I won’t be doing any signings at the shop.” Silence. “And I’ll call Harper and tell her what is going on.”
“Fine.” The sound of metal hitting a table allowed Shay to breathe, but since the woman gave up so easily she added, “And he better not be tied when I get there.”
She hung up and looked at Kitty Fantastic, who had paused, midlick, to study Shay. She wondered what it would be like to come home and not have all of the barking and chew toys and chaos around her, about how quiet and clean—and lonely—her house would be.
Shay grabbed her jeans off the end of the bed. “It’s not like I have to say yes. I am just getting more information.”
Jonah’s last two calls pretty much summed up his entire week thus far. He responded to a “fight in progress” at Valley Vintage, which turned out to be two elderly residents who liked to get a little “vocal” while “canoodling,” as they called it, then he chased down a punk who thought he didn’t need to pay for his tab. Since the tab in question was accrued at the Spigot, a local sports bar, and consisted of a few drafts and way too much whiskey, Jonah didn’t have to run too far to haul him in.
Exhausted and sweaty, Jonah walked in his front door, dropped his hat and belt at the entry, put the beer in the fridge, his gun in the safe, and headed straight for the shower. Cranking it to scalding, he stepped under the spray and rested his head against the tile wall. But no matter how long he stood there, the hot water beating on his battered muscles, it didn’t wash away that heaviness he’d been carrying around all week.
Hell, carrying around for five years.
He looked up and let the water rain over his face. It had been five years and he still couldn’t move on from what had happened. Didn’t know how and wasn’t sure, even if he tried, that he could.
“Fuck.” Jonah shut off the water and toweled off. Maybe it was karma, he thought, reminding him that he didn’t deserve to move on, didn’t deserve to find peace.
But sitting under that tree, with Shay pressed against him, her soft skin and whirlwind of emotions surrounding him, he’d felt it. One smile from her and his world was set right.
It was strange, the woman was a wrecking ball of chaos, but around her he felt lighter. To the point when he knew the weight of his past wasn’t going to pull him under and he could finally breathe. The soul-deep kind of breaths that made him feel more alive with each one he took.
Rolling his eyes at that thought, he dragged on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then smelled the pits and tossed it in the dirty clothes hamper before padding to the kitchen for a beer—or three.
He popped the top and was about to savor his first swallow when he heard a knock. He dropped his head against the freezer door.
Million bucks it was Adam, there to give him shit about not returning his fifteen calls. Fo
r a guy who was notorious with the ladies for sending them to voice mail, he sure acted like a little girl when it happened to him.
Not wanting any more grief tonight, Jonah leaned against the counter, savoring each cool, bitter sip. Adam bored easily—this was a fact. The guy was worse than a kid in church when it came to staying in one place for very long. So Jonah knew if he kept quiet his brother would eventually go away.
Only the bell rang. Three times. One after the other in rapid succession. Loud and annoying.
Ding-dong.
And clearly not going away.
Accepting his fate, Jonah swallowed the last of his beer and headed for the door.
Ding-dong.
“Keep it in your pants,” he mumbled as he yanked open the front door.
Shay stood on his stoop looking too good for words in a short denim skirt, a tank top clinging to her chest that warned him PAWS OFF and showed a tantalizing little strip of skin with each sway of her body. She was also covered in enough cat fur to cause acute asthma, her hair looked like she’d been sleeping, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Jonah was in it deep. He knew what she tasted like now, knew what he’d been missing out on.
“Is that you trying to play hard to get?” she asked, taking in his bare chest. There was a teasing glint in her eyes, when she finally managed to look up at his. She’d been doing her fair share of ogling too—and the quirk in her smile told him she liked what she saw. “Because if so, you might want to start off fully clothed. You know, not to give off the wrong impression.”
“I thought you were someone else,” he said, grabbing a work shirt off the coat rack, then realized how that sounded and added, “I bailed on my brother and I thought you were him coming to yell at me.”
“So you’re avoiding him too? Whew, and here I thought it was just me.” Her tone was light and teasing. The rigid way she held her body was anything but.
Yeah, about that. “I’m not avoiding you.” She made a snorting sound that translated into bullshit. “Okay, I was, but not because of the kiss.”
Her smile faded and she put a hand up. “Oh no, we agreed not to talk about that kiss.”
“No, you said we couldn’t talk about the first kiss, the second one is fair game,” he said, loving how her breathing hitched. “And I was avoiding you because it was a tough week and I didn’t want to unload on you.”
Her smile turned to concern—for him. “Is everything okay?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said.
“Right.” She took a step back, sounding disappointed. “Well, I just wanted to give you this.”
He took the small blue container she extended in offering and she flashed him a bright smile. Too bright, he thought, taking a closer look. Her eyes were bloodshot and the tip of her nose was pink, but everything else seemed dimmed. Fragile.
“Are you okay?”
“I asked you first and, wow, you’re really good at that whole deflecting thing.”
“It comes with the job.” So did knowing when to let something go and when to dig deeper. “So you want to tell me why you look like you’ve been crying?”
“It was a rough day. I had to take . . .” She trailed off. “Deflecting again. You go first.”
Jonah was torn. He wanted to know about her, get beneath the smart mouth and sharp wit. Maybe then he’d understand why he was so drawn to her. The way she was studying him, carefully and expectantly, he was pretty sure that interest went both ways. Problem was, talking it out and share-time had never been his strong suit. Just ask his family.
Jonah was more of a get-involved-without-getting-emotionally-entangled kind of guy.
“Forget it,” she said quietly, and bent down to get the orange-and-white polka-dotted cat carrier at her feet. “Bye, then.”
Ah, hell. He was a total and complete bastard. He knew he should have called to check on the cat. To check on Shay. But he’d barely been able to process his week, let alone what was going on between them. So he’d taken the selfish route and avoided any real interaction with her.
“Shay, wait.” He reached out, placing his hand on hers and halting her before she burned rubber back across the street. The connection was instantaneous, hot and real, and she felt it too because the pulse at the base of her neck thundered. “Is he okay? The cat?”
“Kitty Fantastic?” she asked quietly, her eyes going from his hand to his face before slowly pulling away. She cleared her throat. “He’s fine. Just a bruised paw and a few cuts.”
“Tough little guy. Ninja with his nails, though.” Jonah looked in the cage, relieved to see the cat was okay. After a hiss and a few bite-me blinks of the eyes, Jonah looked up at Shay and found something else entirely. Not a single claw out. In fact, that take-no-prisoners expression she wore like most women did perfume was absent, and in its place was a shocking amount of vulnerability. And sadness.
“Right.” She pointed to the container in his hand and there went that smile again. “For you. They’re freshly made. Enjoy.”
He opened the lid and grinned at what was obviously store bought. “They’re doughnuts.”
“Fresh doughnuts,” she clarified. “I just opened the bag and you’re a cop, so I figured they must be your favorite. They’re mine too.” Which explained the bits of melted chocolate on her shirt. “I normally don’t share, but I wanted to give you a proper thanks for, well, you know.”
Yeah, he was pretty sure he knew, but he shook his head anyhow, because he liked watching her squirm. It sure beat the broken look he’d glimpsed a moment ago.
Her eyes narrowed and she gave him a long, assessing look. “You’re going to make me say it, huh?”
He didn’t speak, just crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. After years of interrogating some of the toughest criminals, he could out wait just about anyone. All he had to do was give her that silence everyone always seemed desperate to fill and she’d talk. So he popped a doughnut in his mouth and waited, biting back a chuckle when she watched him chew—her lips mimicking his. He considered offering her one, but that would defeat the purpose.
With a frustrated huff, she closed her eyes. Oh yeah, she was going to get all worked up and put herself into a mood. Sick guy that he was, he was looking forward to it. Only when she opened her eyes, they weren’t lit with fire, they were suspiciously shiny.
“I wanted to say thank you,” she said, clearing her throat. “For calling Ms. Abernathy. And for posting that retraction in the paper. Yodel went to his home today and it was really awesome. Then I found a new application in my inbox asking about available dogs. The family isn’t right for any that I have now, but it was a relief to know people will still consider me when looking to expand their families.”
She looked away and, ah Christ, there went the first tear. It slid down her cheek and dropped to the floor. She wiped at it as though she was just as startled by its appearance as he was.
“I don’t know why I’m . . .” She pointed to her tears, which were coming faster.
“A rough week, remember,” he said, setting the doughnuts on the porch rail and stepping closer, the door clicking shut behind him. “And it must be hard saying good-bye.”
“It’s always hard,” she whispered. “I tell myself that it will get easier, but it never does.”
“I know.” He ran a thumb beneath her lashes, then leaned down and lightly brushed her mouth with his. He felt her eyes flutter shut and her body sway into his—amazed at how incredible she was.
What she did was hard, and tore her to pieces, but she kept doing it. Putting herself out there, setting herself up for the pain, because her belief in what she was doing was stronger than the fear of being hurt. It was a testament to just how strong she was.
But right now she felt small and fragile, her body trembling against his. Jonah could have deepened the kiss, but he knew that what she needed right then was a different kind of connection. A deeper one.
He lifted his he
ad and watched as her eyes slowly opened and struggled to focus. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he said, “Five years ago, I made a mistake and three people died.”
“Oh my God, Jonah.”
“Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “I was on my way home from a routine follow-up when I came across this kid. Fifteen. Nervous. Obviously up to no good. Swore he was on his way home from the library,” he said, remembering how scared the kid had been, and knowing he was going to bolt. Only he didn’t, he stood there like a man, ready to puke, watching as Jonah dug through his backpack.
“Was he?”
“Yeah, he was. I found a biology textbook, a sorry-looking set of school supplies, and a couple of comic books. I also found a semiautomatic.” No bullets, thank God.
“What happened?”
“He admitted to pinching the gun from his uncle after a few kids had tried to jump him the week before. If they came back, the kid wanted something to scare them off. I knew without a doubt he was telling the truth.”
More importantly, his story checked out. Ricky was fifteen, no priors, and on the honor roll at his school—a kid from the shitty side of town trying to overcome his circumstances.
On some level, Jonah understood that.
“But instead of following protocol and bringing him in, I confiscated the gun, let him off with a warning, and gave him twenty bucks to buy a bus pass.”
She cupped his jaw, her thumb gliding gently over his cheek. “Because you’re a good man, Jonah, and you knew that the last thing he needed working against him was an arrest record.”
“Two months later, the same kids cornered Ricky in an alley. He pulled out a different gun, this one loaded.”
“Oh, God.”
“Ricky and one of the other kids died.” So had one of Jonah’s fellow officers who had responded to the call of shots being fired.
