Blending In

by RJ Blain

  “As I’m too old to be bothered with sneaking across the house to come visit you, yes. But you’ll have to move my stuff. I’m too tired to move my stuff.” I batted my lashes at him. “Please move my stuff?”

  “I view moving your stuff as a small price to pay for convenience and the chance to share my bed with you every night. I’ll even remember you’re incapable of functioning after only three hours of sleep.”

  “Midnight Mass didn’t help. Just be glad we didn’t stay for the reception.”

  “I’m exceptionally grateful I didn’t stay for that. Honestly, I’m surprised the police didn’t call me to pick up my parents. They mostly behaved, which I find shocking.”

  “Except your Dad. Where the hell did he find a death metal version of Joy to the World?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m torn between smacking him and thanking him. That definitely spiced things up.”

  I thought about it. “You should thank him. It gave me a good excuse to run away and seduce you.”

  “You had that all planned out, did you?”

  “Well, I certainly didn’t have time to go pick up all those things. Tiana helped.” Sometime next week, after I fully recovered from the holidays, I’d have to thank her properly. “The handcuffs were her contribution. The rest was all me.”

  “If I told you we’re leaving at dark thirty because my parents relocated the party to out in the country, which is a disgustingly long drive from here, will you get upset?”

  “I’m sleeping in the car, and whenever you stop for gas, I’m expecting to be fed coffee and pointed in the direction of the nearest bathroom.”

  “It’s only two hours.”

  “My condition remains unchanged.”

  “Noted. I will endeavor to stop at places with tolerable bathrooms. Honestly, I have a ban on gas station bathrooms.”

  “One too many traumas?”

  “I’m potentially scarred for life.”

  I laughed. “I’ll probably manage for two hours without needing a stop, but I appreciate your concern for my trips to the bathroom.”

  “You really don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. And Caleb won’t, either. It’s a few extra hours with his dad.”

  “I’ll get gas down the street, so if you’d care to have your first bathroom stop here, that’d be for the best. I’ll fill a travel mug for you with coffee while you get dressed.”

  I eyed my clothes and contemplated if I had the energy to get dressed. Since getting dressed was mandatory to ensure Caleb’s Christmas was perfect, I dragged myself to the bathroom to pull myself together long enough to reach Chase’s car. It took a cold shower to wake up enough to get into the car, but even then, I conked out the instant I buckled in.

  It took Chase several minutes to wake me up, and I blinked blearily at him.

  “We’re here,” he announced.

  I squinted and stared out the window at the snowy road leading beyond a metal gate. “We’re at a metal gate. This isn’t a house?”

  “Well, we’ll get to the house portion of the trip eventually. Wait here a second.” Chase killed the engine, took his keys, and unlocked the gate, shoving it open before bringing the padlock back with him. “Getting this plowed was a bit of a bitch, but worth it.”

  “What is this place?”

  “You’ll see,” he promised, starting his car and easing it down the access road. The snow crunched under the tires, and after twisting through the thick forest, the road opened to a giant pit flanked by a huge building I recognized as part of a mine. Construction vehicles and supply pallets littered the ground.

  “This is a mine?” I pointed at the building. “Why are we at a mine?”

  “Well, I regret to inform you that New York seems to have a sad lack of coal mines, so you’re getting a played-out sandstone mine for Christmas. But since giving you a mine is dull and boring, I added a twist. Come on. Follow me.”

  I waited for him to shut the car off before I unbuckled my seatbelt, my brows furrowing. “You got me a mine? For Christmas?”

  “You were working so hard to earn a coal mine, and honestly, it was pretty obvious you were struggling to be sufficiently bad to earn one. I’m hoping you don’t mind the substitution. There’s a catch, but you’ll see once we’re inside. Don’t worry. The place is heated, the electricity is working, and there’s a generator in case the power goes out.”

  “You got me an actual mine for Christmas?”

  Chase laughed, came around the car, and planted his hands on my shoulder, bumping my door closed with his hip before pushing me along. “You’ll see, you’ll see,” he promised.

  He guided me to the door, unlocked it, and opened it.

  Somewhere in the building, I heard puppies—a lot of puppies. With wide eyes, I stepped inside. On the outside, the place looked like a dead-end mining operation, but on the inside, I smelled fresh paint and cleaners. The entry had an empty desk, and Chase pointed me to a door across the room. I went over, grabbed the knob, and cracked it open.

  I’d been in pet shelters enough times to recognize one when I saw it, and the new, metal cages were full of squirming beagles, many of them puppies, but some of them older dogs, their coats growing back from being shaved recently. I sucked in a breath. “Chase? Are these the animals from the puppy mill?”

  “There were so many dogs the New York City shelters couldn’t handle them all. They were going to be euthanized, but I cut a deal with the state to buy them some time. I told them I’d pay the boarding costs at vets and with fosters, anywhere they could stick a dog, and I’d acquire a property and get it up to their standards. This mine was up for sale, and I found a construction company willing to work around the clock to renovate it to make it acceptable for the dogs to live in while we try to find them homes. There are three hundred pups in residence, and every last one of them is now your problem. Well, mostly. This, honestly, was what I was working overtime to do. I needed to hire enough staff in the area to take care of the dogs, plus I needed to find a security team for the place. As other shelters have room, they’ll be moved out to give them a higher chance of adoption, but our animals will take part of a lot of mobile adoption events.”

  My eyes widened. “A security team? For a pet shelter?”

  Chase strode through the room full of barking dogs, stopping to stick his fingers in the cage of one with a graying nose and old, tired eyes. The beagle licked his hand, and my heart broke for the animal.

  He’d probably spent all of his life in a cage waiting for someone to want him. Unable to tolerate it, I opened the cage door and picked him up, setting him down on the floor. He sniffed my hands, his ears pricking forward while he watched me with dark eyes.

  Chase smiled, crouched, and petted the old dog. “I get the feeling we just adopted another dog, didn’t we?”

  “He’s old. He shouldn’t live the rest of his live in a cage.”

  “Yeah, he is. He gets scared in open spaces, so we have to put him in a carrier to take him outside. I’m just letting you know this so you’re going in aware, but he’s going to be a project. He’s spent his entire life in a cage. That’s where he’s going to be most comfortable until he learns the house is his to explore. It’s doubtful he’ll be adopted with so many younger animals available. For now, none of them are up for adoption yet; they’re being socialized to people, given treatments, and otherwise cared for until we’re ready to start placing the animals. I’ve designated this as a no-kill shelter, and we’ll keep animals as long as necessary. When the renovations are completed, we’ll be able to board several hundred more dogs with multiple indoor playrooms. The mine pit itself will be converted to a dog park for them to play outside. There’ll be a section of the shelter for cats, and we’ve already hired a few mousers to help keep the building clear of rodents. You probably won’t see them. They’re not used to people, but they’re around.”

  “You got me a mine, you converted it to a dog shelter, and you rescued the beagles?” I w
hispered, and tears blurred my vision.

  Chase leaned towards me and kissed my brow. “Your heart broke in that warehouse. I’m just putting it back together again. I have something to show you. A little justice was served, and while I can’t claim credit for this Christmas present, well, I can’t say I’m unhappy about that.” Chase hopped to his feet, went back to the entry, and returned with a leash, which he handed to me. “His name is Cocoa because we agreed you like that even more than coffee.”

  “We?”

  “Caleb is aware you are adopting a very elderly dog named Cocoa for Christmas. Honestly, I couldn’t stand to leave him here, not after the vets told me it was probable he’s lived his entire life in a cage. Caleb still has no idea he’s getting a dog yet. It’s cute. He’s so jealous you’re getting Cocoa, but when I told him Cocoa wasn’t adoptable and would probably die in a cage otherwise, he became a pretty good sport about it. Gavin played along and suggested if he helped care for poor, elderly Cocoa, you might consider getting him a dog someday.”

  “That was clever, ruthless, and sneaky.”

  “And a temper tantrum was narrowly avoided. Good choice deciding on getting him a dog. Come on. I have one thing to show you before we get out of here. A few volunteers are coming by in a few hours to give the dogs their lunch and take them on their walks. That’s been a bit of a disaster, as none of the dogs were trained to go outside, but we’re bringing in trainers to help them get situated. I paid someone a disgusting amount of money to teach Cocoa this week. He mostly has the idea, but he’s scared of going outside, so we’ll have to deal with training pads for a while.”

  “Small price to pay. I cleaned up after a human infant. I think I can handle an elderly dog.”

  Chase grinned and led me through a maze of hallways to a small office. He sat at the computer, woke the machine up, and began playing a surveillance video. “This is why I am getting security. They let Timothy out of prison after he paid an absurd amount of bail, and well, he used his talent to get the location of the dogs. It looks like he wanted to take some of them and make a run for it.” Chase pointed at the screen, which showed the mine from the outside. A chain-link fence surrounded the building, and more beagles than I could count ran around inside.

  Timothy opened the gate, let himself in, and reached for the nearest dog.

  Chase paused the video. “Before I continue, I should ask how you feel about extreme violence resulting in death.”

  “It depends?”

  “There are three hundred and twenty-four dogs in that pen, and every last one of them decided they had a negative opinion about Timothy.”

  I grimaced. “All of them?”

  “They knew who’d locked them in the cage and abused them. Honestly, the state wanted to put them all down for tearing the bastard apart, but I pointed out beagles are not dumb dogs. Timothy had tortured them. Only an idiot would expect any other result.”

  I thought about it. “Is it gruesome?”

  “Well, the cleanup certainly was. Oddly, there’s zero evidence any of the dogs actually ate any parts of Timothy, which worked in their favor. The dog that initiated the attack is in state custody, but he’ll be put up for adoption as soon as it’s confirmed he’s not actually a risk to people. He doesn’t last long, but it’s definitely pretty nasty.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t need to watch it.”

  Chase sighed. “That’s a relief. Honestly, I’ve seen it a few times already, and I’d rather not watch it again. It’s disgusting.”

  “Deserved, though.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Just how many pieces were there?”

  “Well, they needed magic to get most of him off the ground. They were pretty thorough.”

  “Puppilante justice,” I announced, lifting my chin. “Make your parents adopt the instigator. They’re instigators. They should be able to handle a canine instigator.”

  “I’ll suggest that to them. Oh, your guess about Gaithers Mutual Funds and Investments was spot on. Without his magic making a mess of things, we were able to get leads on the missing money. It all led back to his family’s company. As you thought, they were taking the funds to cover up their various scams.”

  What an asshole. “And he came to take the dogs back?”

  “We suppose, he could’ve been out for revenge, too. It seems I severely misjudged his character.”

  “It’s over and done with. Let the bastard rot for all I care. Just make sure you give that first dog a lot of love. It sounds like he deserves it.”

  Chase chuckled. “That I can do. I’ll go get a carrier for Cocoa, then we’ll head to the country house for the actual festivities. I told my parents I wasn’t waiting around all day to bust Cocoa out of this joint. His old, tired bones deserve a few bites of turkey with his dinner.”

  While I waited for Chase to get the carrier, I crouched beside Cocoa and petted him, trying my best not to cry over a man with more heart than he knew what to do with.

  When he returned, I sniffled. “You need to give my heart back. You keep using it to do things that make me cry.”

  Chase laughed, knelt beside me, and wiped my tears away. “Believe it or not, I would’ve done the same even without watching you in that warehouse about to blow a fuse because you wanted to help all the dogs and couldn’t. I could, so I did. The only thing I did differently was give the place to you rather than making other arrangements. There’s a lot of paperwork to sign in a few weeks, but what I couldn’t take care of directly, my parents did for me on my behalf.”

  I sniffled trying to stop my tears with minimal success. “First, you’re pretty. Then you’re nice. Then you’re stupidly rich. Now you’re being pretty, nice, and stupidly rich for me and these dogs. What did I do to deserve you?”

  Chase graced me with his best smile. “You were yourself. No matter what shape you were in, you were smart, kind, and fascinating.” His expression turned a little rueful. “Except that part where you bit the shit out of my hand for withholding chicken. I deserved that, but those little teeth of yours hurt. I promise I won’t try to keep your chicken away from you again, just don’t bite me.”

  I opened my mouth to suggest he should just give me the chicken without a fuss, transformed into a chameleon, and endured the excited licking of an old dog discovering a lizard for the first time.

  My transformation resulted in a ride in Chase’s coat, a win all things considered.

  Chase’s parents lived in a large plantation house in the New York countryside, and I loved everything about the place. A bunch of cars promised we were the last arrivals, and Caleb bounded outside the instant we pulled in. I snuggled against Chase’s chest, unwilling to leave his warmth to deal with my excited son expecting Christmas presents sooner rather than later.

  “Where’s Mom?” Caleb demanded.

  “She’s in my coat since she forgot the rule about not asking for chicken. Please get ready to open the front door for me so I can bring Cocoa inside.”

  “Does she like him?” my son asked as though he held the majority of the responsibility for my new dog.

  “She cried and demanded she take him home, so yes. All I had to do was stick my fingers in his cage. She saw his old, graying muzzle and decided he wouldn’t be staying in the shelter.” Chase chuckled, got out of his car, and retrieved the dog from the back seat. “Is the crate ready inside?”

  “It is!” Running to the front door, Caleb shifted his weight from foot to foot in his impatience to get inside. “Dad helped me pick up some last-minute supplies for him before Midnight Mass.”

  I loved my sneaky, generous, and sweet son—and I even grudgingly respected Gavin for enduring unnecessary Christmas Eve shopping, as we had enough dog supplies to outfit half the shelter.

  “Thank you, Caleb.” Chase grunted and hauled the carrier towards the house, nudging the back door of his car closed with his foot. “Did your grandparents show up?”

  “They’re inside helping with the cook
ing. Mr. Butler explained you were picking up Cocoa and told them all about the warehouse. And he had pictures of the place and your new shelter. They are dog people, and now you’re their best friend for at least ten minutes. That’s what Dad said.”

  “Ten minutes is a start. I’ll take it.” Chase spotted the crate in the living room near the pile of Christmas presents blocking the view of most of the tree, and set Cocoa down, opening the door. It took several minutes of coaxing to convince the old beagle to emerge, and when he did, the spacious room frightened him into the larger crate. “Poor old dude. It’ll be all right. You just chill in there, and if you want to come out, you come out. You can watch us open presents.”

  Cocoa relaxed enough to investigate his new home. He discovered the dog bed, which seemed to puzzle him. Chase patted the soft material until the old dog climbed inside, turned in circles, and settled in for a nap.

  My heart broke, and I wondered how many times it could keep shattering.

  Gavin strolled into the living, laughed, and shook his head. “You’re something else, Miriah. You can’t even blame Mr. Butler for your current predicament. The fault is entirely on you. Set her down so she can change back, Chase. It’d be cruel to make her try to open Christmas presents while a karma chameleon.”

  Chase obeyed, and as soon as I skittered a safe distance from people and furniture, I popped back to human form. I shook my head to clear it. “That was my fault,” I admitted.

  “Not really. I did essentially goad you into it,” Chase replied.

  I rolled my shoulders to work out the kinks and glanced at the tree, still trapped in a prison of presents. “Caleb? Would you please bring everyone in here? If we’re going to do this, we better get started or no one will be eating anything today. That’s a lot of presents.”

  My son ran off, howling at the top of his lungs that it was time to open the presents. Within five minutes, everyone found a spot to sit in the living room. I opted to keep Cocoa company. “I vote Gavin gets to play Santa.”