by Eva Chase
I shrugged. “Not much of one. I’ve been up to L.A. a few times, and to Mexico once as a kid. Otherwise I’ve just stuck around here. Pretty pathetic. But there are a bunch of places I’d like to see.” Someday. When I felt ready to step that far out of my shell. One thing at a time.
Jeremy’s voice dipped a little. “I don’t think there’s anything pathetic about that, Grace. There’s a lot to be said for having a stable home base.”
The way he said my name made my heart flutter. I looked over at him and found him gazing right back at me with those gorgeous green eyes. That sight set off a whole bunch more fluttering. “That’s true,” I said, hoping my voice still sounded steady. “A lot of people don’t seem to appreciate that.”
Something in the air between us had shifted. I wasn’t just imagining that, was I? I’d caught his interest, somehow or other. I had to take the leap.
Just ask him if he wants to grab dinner sometime—or lunch—or, hell, a coffee. You couldn’t get any lower pressure than that. It wasn’t like he couldn’t say no if I’d read him wrong.
I opened my mouth—and one of the police officers strolled up to us, holding a clipboard. “Ms. Trevell,” she said. “Can I ask you a few more questions?”
Like I was going to say no to a cop. “Sure,” I said, swallowing my disappointment—and maybe a little nervous relief. It wasn’t my fault I hadn’t asked Jeremy out.
Another cop came over to chat with Jeremy while the woman led me over to the scene of the crash. A tow truck had pulled up, but the pickup truck was still mashed against the cemetery fence, its hood crumpled and windshield shattered.
My body had come just seconds from being smashed between that fender and those concrete blocks. I hugged myself, holding in a shudder at the thought.
“I’d just like to go over the basics of your account again,” the officer said. She motioned to the sidewalk in front of us. “Can you walk me through what happened, moment by moment from when you came out of the cemetery?”
“Okay.” I glanced over to the gate. “I came out and started heading this way. I was going to walk home—my house is about fifteen minutes from here. I think I’d only taken a few steps when I heard the truck swerving toward me.”
“And that was when Mr. Lowe stepped in.” She nodded to Jeremy.
“Yes. He was jogging this way, and he must have seen the car first. He jumped right out in—”
I hesitated, running through the memory in my head again. Everything had happened so fast. The moment before the crash was a blur other than the squeeze of Jeremy’s fingers around my forearm and the thunder of my heart in my ears. But I knew I’d glanced at the truck and seen it heading straight for me. And Jeremy had thrown himself between me and it, right in front of it... hadn’t he?
But if he had, how had it not hit him?
“Ms. Trevell?” the cop said.
“I, um...” I shook my head. “Sorry. It freaks me out a little remembering it.” I had to be remembering it wrong. There was no way Jeremy could have moved between me and the truck and then only suffered a bruised elbow. In my panic, it wasn’t as if I’d been paying that much attention. He’d pulled me back. That was all.
Farther down the street, the other officer must have been asking Jeremy the same things. My hero took a quick step and gestured as if yanking something—showing how he’d intervened. He remembered it being much less of a leap than I did. Shock did funny things to a person’s memory, I guessed.
“He jumped right toward me,” I corrected myself. “Grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the way just in time. I’m so lucky he was there. I couldn’t have reacted in time on my own.”
That must have been what happened. So why was a weird prickling running down my spine?
I was still shaken up from the accident, that was all. Too freakin’ sensitive about everything, as Britta at work always said. I rubbed my arms. “Is there anything else you needed to know?”
The cop asked a couple more questions about what I’d noticed about the truck and its driver, which wasn’t a whole lot since I’d been busy not getting killed. Then she waved me back to my previous spot by the fence. “I think we’ll be able to let you two go in a few minutes. Sorry for the hold-up.”
When I meandered over, Jeremy was already standing by the fence. He was examining his hand. My gaze caught on a streak of red across one knuckle. My stomach flipped over.
“Are you okay? I thought the paramedics already checked you out.”
He jerked his hand back toward his side. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a scratch. It just started bleeding again, but hardly at all.”
He was bleeding because he’d raced in there to save me. I bit my lip. The ambulance had zoomed off once the paramedics had determined we were essentially uninjured. The cops were busy talking to one another.
Well, I could handle this myself, couldn’t I?
“Let me see,” I said, holding out one hand as I dug the other into my purse. “I’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere.”
“You really don’t have to,” Jeremy started, but I held up a finger to cut him off.
“You saved me from getting mashed into road kill. The least I can do is stick a bandaid on you. Come on.”
His lips twitched with what might have been suppressed amusement. He let me examine his hand. I tried to focus on the shallow scrape across his middle knuckle and not how enjoyable his warm skin felt against my fingers.
“You’re right,” I said, keeping my tone light. “It’s not too bad at all. I’ve had worse from the cats at work.”
Jeremy chuckled, a sound I liked almost as much as the way he said my name. “Veterinarian? Pet store clerk?” he asked as I smoothed the bandaid over his knuckle.
“I work for the animal rescue shelter downtown. Not as exciting as jet-setting around the world taking photographs.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “But if you enjoy it... I guess you must like animals.”
“When they’re not scratching me.” I gave his hand a pat and reluctantly let go of it. “I guess I just enjoy knowing I’m taking care of them when they can’t take care of themselves. And finding new homes for them.”
He nodded. “I always wanted a dog when I was a kid... Never got around to actually adopting one.”
For a second, he looked strangely sad. As if there was a lot more to that story than just a guy who’d never owned a dog. The emotion vanished as quickly as it had risen up, but it tugged at my heart all the same. And the words just tumbled out of my mouth.
“You know, we’ve been talking about getting some fancier photos taken of some of the animals. To try to boost adoption rates. We hadn’t hired anyone yet. But if you’re local, and, I mean, if you have the time—”
Jeremy stared at me. Shit, I was totally babbling, wasn’t I? I’d meant to ask him on a date, not try to hire him for a job. But I couldn’t seem to stop talking. “I guess we probably can’t even afford you. Never mind. It was a silly idea. I shouldn’t have—”
“No,” Jeremy broke in. “I mean, yes. I have the time. I can charge on a sliding scale. I’d be happy to help out. Let me give you my card, and you can get in touch with the details.”
3
Jeremy
I straightened the collar of my dress shirt in front of the mirror. Why I did that when it was already perfectly straight, I had no idea. I had no reason to be this wound up. It was just a gig. At an animal shelter, of all places. Not exactly high profile.
But I’d been hired by a woman I’d made a spectacular display of my telekinetic skills in front of. Thank all that was holy she didn’t seem to have noticed the way I’d shoved the truck off course, but that didn’t mean spending more time with her was a good idea.
Even if she was one of the prettiest women I’d met since moving here. Even if, the longer we’d talked, the more I’d found myself wishing we could keep talking. She had a genuine sweetness about her that I didn’t run into very often...
I shook that thought ou
t of my head and sat down at my laptop again. No alerts had popped up about any articles I needed to be worried about. I ran another search, just to be sure.
The accident at the cemetery hadn’t been mentioned even in the local paper in the last three days. If my shocking rescue hadn’t been reported on by now, chances were it never would be. I had nothing to stress about there.
But the police report would still be floating around... I didn’t know exactly what the driver or Grace had told the cops about how I’d intervened.
Maybe it didn’t matter. You’d think a police database would be pretty secure. But after hearing all the stories my parents had told me, I knew better than to count on that. If the people who’d once held Mom and Dad captive were still around, they had power in all sorts of high places.
A different sort of alert chimed on my phone. Reminding me I was due at the animal shelter in half an hour. I hesitated with my hand on my camera bag.
I shouldn’t have agreed to the job. I had nothing to gain by spending more time with Grace, and too much to risk. But in the moment when she’d asked me, all anxious about my answer, the only thing I’d been able to think about was setting her mind at ease.
And now I was committed. If I backed out now, that’d be a lot more noticeable than if I just went over there, did my job, and faded out of her life afterward for good. So off I went.
The animal shelter was a squat, gray building just off one of the major commercial streets. Easy listening tunes filled the reception room I walked into, a small white space with a few padded chairs and a counter. The slightly cloying smell of cleaning fluid hung in the air. The music wasn’t loud enough to cover the barks and whines that carried through the door beside the counter. No question about it—I’d made it to the right place.
A busty blond woman who looked to be in her early twenties gave me a once-over from behind the counter. She automatically pushed her chest out a little farther and leaned flirtatiously against the counter.
Even if I’d been in the mood to flirt, she was so not my type. Mascara-caked eyelashes, fake tan, and lips that looked like they’d been through several rounds of pouting practice. Plus anyone who’d jump at the chance to get flirty with the customers clearly had no sense of discretion.
“You must be our photographer,” the woman said in a languid, slightly nasal voice. “Jeremy, is it? My name’s Britta. Grace told me about you, but she didn’t mention you were a supermodel too.”
I laughed awkwardly. “That’d be because I’m not. Where do you want me to get set up?” Grace had mentioned they had a room where potential owners could interact with the animals one on one. That had sounded like as good a makeshift studio as I was going to get here.
“Right this way,” Britta said. She hollered down the aisle as she opened the door. “Ceren, take over reception for me!”
An older woman with a gray-streaked bun hurried past us to the counter. Britta led me past a couple of stacks of cages. This must be the dog section—dozens of woebegone eyes stared at me through the bars as I passed.
Britta swayed her hips with a calculated rhythm. “Grace’s spent the last half hour getting the room set up. I don’t know what all you’re looking for, but if there’s something else you need, just let me know.” She gave me a wink before opening the door to the visitor’s room. “I know my way around here better than anyone.”
She’d sounded dismissive of Grace’s efforts, but when I stepped into the room ahead of her, my eyes widened.
The space was a decent photography setup on its own: a big window with daylight streaming in, no furniture except a couple of chairs I could easily push to the side. But Grace had spread a patterned blanket in one corner, as I’d suggested. Right now she was pinning a stark white sheet to the ceiling so it tumbled from there to the floor all around that corner. A lamp was positioned over the blanket. It was about the best amateur attempt at a studio I’d seen.
Grace glanced around at the sound of the door and nearly fell off the stool she was balanced on. I leapt forward to steady her with a hand on her back. A flush spread across her cheeks as she stepped down. It only made her look prettier. Between that and the brief physical contact, my breath suddenly felt a little short.
Yeah, I definitely had to get through this job as quickly as possible, or who knew what else I’d end up agreeing to do for her.
“Saving me again,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. She swept her hand toward the set-up. “I tried to get everything you talked about. I hope it’s okay for at least decent shots.”
“It’s great,” I said honestly. “I’m impressed.”
Her blush deepened. She raked her fingers back through her fawn-brown waves and turned toward the door. “I guess I’ll go get our first ‘model’? Or do you need more time?”
“Grace,” Britta said by the doorway in a condescending voice, “stop fussing. It’s his job. He’ll crack the whip if he needs to.”
I ignored her. “Go ahead and get the first animal you want me to photograph. With the lights and the flash, it’s best if we stick to the calmer ones. But whatever it is you’re looking for, I’ll do my best.”
Grace nodded and darted out. Britta rolled her eyes. “She’s always such a people-pleaser,” she said, as if that was a bad thing. “Hey, do you want any coffee? I can grab you a cup from the staff room.”
“Sure,” I said, more to get rid of her than because I had any interest in drinking coffee.
When I was alone in the room, I shoved the chairs out of the way and studied the corner where Grace had hung the curtain. The lamp she’d found wasn’t quite as bright as I normally preferred to work with, but the natural light was pretty good. These wouldn’t be top of the line level portraits, but the shelter wasn’t paying top of the line prices. I’d deliver better than the average photographer-for-hire would.
Grace came back with a little Terrier mix in her arms. The black-and-brown patched dog was yipping and squirming. She grimaced and laughed as it swiped its tongue across her face.
“Um, usually Toby’s one of the calm ones. Apparently he’s excited to be the star of the show.”
I chuckled. “We’ll work with what we’ve got. Why don’t you sit on the floor next to him to try to keep him in check.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She clucked her tongue at the dog and murmured some soothing words. I took a few action shots of Toby bouncing around on the blanket, and then he finally settled down.
It took some self-control not to include Grace in the shots. The light beamed off her lovely face and lit up her big brown eyes. Her love for the animals was written all over her expression.
Britta, I was starting to think, didn’t care about anyone except herself. She sashayed in a few minutes later, sending Toby into another barking fit, and shook her head at Grace as if the noise were Grace’s fault. I couldn’t help noticing she’d brought coffee cups for me and herself, but nothing for her coworker. Was that supposed to impress me? I motioned for her to put mine down on the empty chair and got back to work.
After Toby, Grace brought in a kitten that insisted on trying climb the sheet. I got a few great action shots before it pulled the whole thing down. “I’m so sorry,” Grace said, dashing to fix the sheet. I just laughed.
“It’s fine. We’ve got time.”
But the hour they’d booked me for passed in a blink. I captured a slightly battered looking tomcat, an aging Golden Retriever, and a sulky Persian with my lens, and then time was up. I disassembled my gear, trying to ignore the pang in my chest.
I couldn’t be disappointed that we were done here. It was just a job. Grace was just a woman I was never going to see again. That was better for both of us anyway.
So it was definitely for business reasons and not because I was looking for an excuse to linger that I stopped to show Grace some of the highlights on the camera’s LCD screen. “Oh, that’s perfect!” she said when we got to the intrepid sheet-climbing kitten.”
&nbs
p; Britta shoved right in front of Grace to see. Her thick floral perfume had me holding back a grimace. “Man, you really do know how to take a great picture.” She peered through her eyelashes at me. “If you’re ever looking for models of the human sort, let me know.”
Ah, yeah, that wasn’t going to be happening in a million years.
“Actually, I was thinking...” Grace started, her hands twisting where she’d clasped them in front of her.
Britta sighed. “Oh, Grace, just spit it out already.”
A spark of temper flared inside me. I didn’t think, only reacted.
One second, the half-full coffee cup was sitting steady in Britta’s hand. The next, some mysterious force had knocked against it, tipping the remaining contents onto her mauve blouse.
Shit. Britta yelped and swiped at the spreading splotch with her hand. Grace, ever helpful despite her colleague’s rudeness, grabbed the blanket off the floor and offered a corner. She hovered while Britta muttered and dabbed.
I hadn’t meant to give her cup that shove. I shouldn’t have done it. But... damn if it hadn’t felt awfully satisfying in the moment.
My jaw tightened. I couldn’t listen to that feeling. One stupid move like that could have exposed me so easily. And for what? To punish someone for being irritating?
Grace turned back to me with a wry smile. “So, um, what I was going to ask you is—we’ve got new animals coming in all the time. Maybe we could set up a standing appointment for the next few Saturdays? You could take pictures of some of the newcomers?”
She gazed at me so hopefully my heart squeezed. But I’d just proven I couldn’t trust my judgment when it came to her. I bit back the automatic agreement that had leapt to my tongue.
“I’ll have to check my schedule. I’ll get back to you when I can. We’ll talk more when I’m delivering the final photos anyway.”
“All right.” Her smile brightened, in a way that felt as if it were meant just for me. “I’m looking forward to that.”