Hiss and Make Up

by Leigh Landry

  “Whoa, where did that come from? Is it friendly?”

  “Look at him.” She laughed. She’d never seen a friendlier stray in her life. “What do you think?”

  “You know that thing is probably full of fleas, right?”

  “And ticks.”

  “What are you going to do with him? I don’t think animal control is still open.”

  “I’m not taking him to animal control,” she said, more firmly than necessary. But that was out of the question.

  In truth, she had no idea what she would do with this dog. She couldn’t take him home. They didn’t have a fenced-in yard, and he couldn’t stay inside with the cats. But she couldn’t leave him out there.

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  Sierra begged the car to start while she turned the key three times.

  “You’re gonna flood the engine.”

  “I know how to start my own car.” The engine rumbled to life, so she stuck her tongue out at him.

  Marc shook his head, but he laughed.

  God, she loved that sound.

  Crap.

  His phone buzzed inside his laptop bag. She watched him fumble with it from the corner of her eye, while she drove out of the park.

  Clumsy and dense, but cute.

  Dang it.

  “Turn right.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s faster if I go left. I can get to the Breaux Bridge highway the back way.”

  “No, you’re not taking me home yet.”

  “Like hell, I’m not. I’m taking you home, then I’m going to my house to think in peace, where no one thinks they have to keep an eye on me.”

  She bit the inside of her mouth, waiting for the argument. But it never came. He was too distracted by whoever he was texting.

  “Better idea,” he said. “Take me downtown.”

  “Why? I’m not your chauffeur, you know.”

  “Don’t you want to find out who sent that email?”

  She did. She really did want to know that.

  And it would make everything else so much easier. If she could get a name or an address, she could cross-reference that with a list of registered snake permit holders.

  “Fine.” She flipped the signal bar to indicate a right turn. “You win. This time.”

  He put away his phone and leaned back against the headrest. Silent. Smug. Adorable.

  The bastard.

  9

  The ride downtown was uncomfortably silent. Nothing but the wind through Sierra’s half-opened window to cut the tension between them.

  Not that Marc completely understood where that tension came from. His best guess was the whole “Keep an Eye on Sierra” campaign he and Liz had going. He couldn’t exactly blame her for feeling like they were ganging up on her, but this was an issue he wouldn’t back down on. Especially not if she was right and someone did cut his fuel line.

  He already regretted their agreement, and he had every intention of severing it as soon as possible. No way would he let her put herself in danger for his family or for some minor league reward money. He had to find a way to ditch Sierra’s help. A tall order considering he couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

  Sierra parallel parked on a quiet side street. When Marc walked around the car, she was still sitting behind the wheel with her window rolled down.

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  She nodded at the scraggly mutt drooling over her shoulder.

  “Leave him in the car,” Marc said. It was still warm out, but not too warm with the windows down.

  “No way. He’ll freak out at being trapped in here and tear up my seats.”

  “Bring him with us.” It wasn’t his favorite option, but at least it would get her out of the car and keep her by his side.

  She considered his suggestion for a second. Then she walked to the trunk, revealing what looked like a bunch of junk: a small plastic animal carrier, old towels, a half-folded blanket, paper towels, trash bags, a first aid kit, an open box of latex gloves, and a cardboard box.

  “You always this prepared?”

  Sierra dug in the cardboard box until she found a blue, nylon leash. “Never know when you’ll run across a stray. Or, you know, a snake.”

  Marc watched while she opened the backseat door just enough to slip the leash inside and over the dog’s head while using her hip to block the dog from jumping out.

  He turned his head to look away. The last thing he needed to be doing right now was staring at Sierra Menard’s hips.

  They walked to the end of the block to a little coffee and gelato shop. Downtown Lafayette had a hip vibe—filled with trendy restaurants, museums, and night clubs—and was the prime location for city festivals throughout the year. Despite being only a short drive away, it was a starkdifference from the antique shops and cozy little restaurants down Main Street in their hometown of Breaux Bridge.

  Sierra led the dog to a water dish and fished a treat out of the glass jar near the front door. The dog gobbled the treat like a half-starved creature. Marc almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  “Sorry, buddy. Too many of those’ll make you sick.” Sierra squatted beside him, scratching the sides of his face. “I promise we’ll get you more to eat once we’re done here.”

  The two of them were just about the cutest thing Marc had ever seen. The dog licked at Sierra’s chin, which normally would have grossed him out completely. But the smile on her face erased all worries of dog germs from his mind.

  “Come on,” Marc said. “He’ll be fine out here for a few minutes.”

  Sierra frowned, but wrapped the leash and around a bike rack and followed him inside. With one hand on the door, Marc glanced over his shoulder to find the dog sitting calmly beside the dwarf azalea bushes. The darn thing was actually smiling at them.

  Inside, Sierra gawked at the brightly lit gelato case. Marc had every intention of satisfying her sweet tooth, but they had business first.

  He pointed to a small table along the wall and placed his other hand against the small of her back. That touch sent a warm little zing through his palm. He didn’t have time to debate what that zing meant though, as her whole back went stiff with tension.

  She leaned her head and half-whispered, “You didn’t say it was her.”

  Chloe stretched and waved at Marc from the back of the room, a mega-watt smile plastered across her face.

  “Does it matter?”

  “I’ll wait outside,” Sierra said and spun towards the door.

  “Wait a second.” Marc put a hand on her arm. “I thought you wanted to find out who sent that letter?”

  “It’s been a long day, the dog is probably scared, and you need to get information from her. I don’t need to be there for that.”

  “I know it’s been a long day, but that dog is not scared.” He waited for her to sneak a look at it through the big windows along the front wall. “And I want you with me for this.”

  He stopped himself short of saying, for everything.

  “Besides,” he added, “I promised I’d keep both eyes on you. Liz doesn’t strike me as someone I should break a promise to.”

  Sierra looked at the dog then back at Chloe. If he knew anything about Sierra, her curiosity and loyalty—to Liz, if not to him—would win out here. No question. He just had to wait for her to realize that too.

  “Fine,” she said. “But, for the record, I’m not pleased about this.”

  “I still don’t know why not.”

  She frowned again. “Not exactly thrilled about watching you flirt information out of that woman, so I don’t know why I need to be here.”

  “Flirt information? What are you talking about?”

  This time, she rolled her eyes as they shifted to make room for an older couple to pass. She lowered her voice to whisper, “She didn’t exactly wear that dress for me.”

  Marc glanced across the room. Chloe was sitting alone with a confused look on her face, trying to figure out who Marc was talking to
. She wore a yellow sundress with tiny shoulder straps, and her blonde hair fell over her shoulders in long waves. She’d changed clothes since they saw her a few hours ago, but it was a Saturday evening. She probably had plans.

  Although it didn’t matter what Chloe’s plans were or who she wore that dress for. What really mattered was who Sierra thought that dress was for.

  “Sierra Menard, are you…jealous?”

  “No.” She brushed past him. “Let’s get this over with.”

  A step behind her, Marc leaned toward her ear and whispered, “Not my type, by the way.”

  She didn’t even bother to lower her voice this time. “Cute, blonde, and perky’s not your type? Since when?”

  There was an edge to her voice that Marc didn’t quite understand, but this wasn’t exactly the place to get into it. They dodged a small table where a guy sat with headphones and a laptop. Given their public location and lack of time, Marc decided to deflect rather than dig. “I’m more into cute, brunette, and impossibly stubborn.”

  “Ugh.” She picked up her pace leaving him a couple steps behind.

  Sitting at a tiny cafe table watching Chloe make sweet-eyes at Marc was not how Sierra wanted to close out an already craptastic Saturday.

  To be honest, it shouldn’t have mattered. Chloe shouldn’t have mattered. Sierra didn’t have anything against the woman aside from the fact that she could have been a clone of the one and only Kassie Bergeron.

  Exactly Marc’s type.

  Despite the delicious smells of roasted coffee beans and sugar dancing with soft jazz in the air, Sierra wanted to march right out of there. She wanted to take Marc with her and hide him from Chloe's hungry eyes.

  “Sierra.” She held her hand out and slid into a chair across from Chloe. “We met earlier today. Sort of.”

  “Oh, right.” Chloe shook Sierra’s hand and plastered on a smile. “I didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

  “Neither did I.”

  Marc pulled a chair over. “My car died, and I needed a ride.”

  Sierra felt a little pang of jealousy at the introduction, like she was nothing but a chauffeur to him. But she brushed the insult aside.

  First of all, she shouldn’t care how Marc introduced her. Second, if Marc wanted a favor from this girl, he might need to downplay his connection to Sierra. Which was the whole reason Sierra wanted to stay in the car, or at least outside with the dog.

  It was freezing in the gelato shop, so that lightweight sweater draped over Chloe’s chair should have been covering her arms. No reason for that except to bare her smooth freckled skin and dangle her long hair over the tops of her breasts. Normally Sierra would have been more than happy to be at a table with a cute woman in a low-cut dress. But the current cleavage show wasn’t on display for Sierra’s benefit. The woman couldn’t keep her eyes off Marc.

  “I’m sorry about your car.” Chloe played with the ends of her hair.

  Yep, definitely all for Marc’s benefit.

  It was a fine tactic. Under any other circumstances, Sierra might have applauded Chloe for the effort. But these weren’t other circumstances, and Sierra wasn’t in the mood for applauding Marc’s ex’s look-a-like.

  “Anyone want anything?” Marc asked.

  “I’m fine.” Chloe put her hands around a white mug containing the prettiest pink liquid Sierra had ever seen. “Hibiscus tea.”

  “Sierra?”

  She wasn’t hungry after all those nachos and didn’t want to sit through a whole snack with Chloe, but this was the cost of information. Plus, it wasn’t like Sierra would turn down gelato. She'd have to hike the longest trail all the way through the Barred Owl Prowl trail twice tomorrow to burn off the junk she’d eaten today.

  “Biscoff,” she said. “No, chocolate. Whatever chocolate they have. No, wait…”

  He smiled down at her. “How about half and half?”

  “They’ll do that?” she said, her voice lifting at the possibility.

  He squeezed her shoulder and walked to the counter. Sierra wished he’d stay and keep that hand on her a little longer. Like forever. Partly because she enjoyed having him nearby, but also because his absence left her alone with Chloe.

  Sierra caught her mistake too late. She should have offered to get the order. Then Marc could be alone with Chloe. But the idea of watching while Marc and Chloe giggled together out of earshot…that was a torture Sierra had no idea how to deal with.

  She looked out the window to check on her new friend. The dog had relaxed even more and plopped down at the edge of the sidewalk with his front paws crossed in front of him. He glanced at each person who walked past him, but he looked completely content, like he’d happily wait there forever.

  “Is that your dog?” Chloe asked.

  “Yeah. I mean, no,” Sierra said, not sure what he was. “Sort of.”

  “He’s…cute.”

  Of course, he was cute. He was freaking adorable. But Chloe’s tone implied otherwise.

  Marc saved her from an assault charge by sliding a cup of half Biscoff, half dark chocolate gelato in front of her. She still wasn’t particularly hungry, but the sight of it made her mouth water.

  He fiddled with the tiny vase containing a single red-orange zinnia. “This is a nice little place.”

  “It’s one of my favorite places in town,” Chloe said.

  The shop really was gorgeous. The sun was setting now, so the place was lit up with strings of white lights and tea light candles. And all the tables had fresh flowers. Super cute. And a wee bit romantic, if you were up for that sort of thing. It made Sierra feel like a third wheel.

  “So.” Marc cleared his throat. He never did know how to ask for a favor without turning into an anxious puddle of mush. “Do you think you’ll be able to give me a hand with this email?”

  “Oh! Right, the email.” She dug in her messenger bag and placed a manila folder on the table in front of Marc. “I thought the whole story about you helping with a piece on your old college team sounded weird. But I couldn’t imagine why Marc would lie to me about it.”

  “What’s this?” Marc asked.

  Chloe tugged at a strand of hair. “Um, I thought you wanted me to find out how to track that email? I called my brother and had him talk me through the process. He tried to explain it all to me, but I didn’t understand. So I took notes. I hope this helps.”

  Marc stared in disbelief at the contents of the folder. Sierra stole a glance over his arm at a list of detailed, step-by-step notes, typed in outline form.

  “Your brother?” Sierra asked.

  “He’s our IT guy at the paper.” Chloe looked back at Marc. “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Because I thought—”

  “No, not at all.” He chuckled and smiled at her over the folder. “This is exactly what I needed. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Chloe beamed with pride like she was a cat who’d just dropped a dead bird in his lap.

  “What does it say?” Sierra asked. “Can we trace it?”

  Marc closed the file and grinned like he’d eaten that dead bird dropped in his lap. Then, he winked at Chloe before facing Sierra again. “Oh, I’m sure I can.”

  Sierra’s face flushed hot with anger. She wasn’t sure if she was angry because he wouldn’t tell her what the notes said or because he’d winked at Chloe. And she couldn’t believe she was letting either of them piss her off.

  She pushed her chair back and it screeched against the floor. Let him ask Kassie-Part-Two for a ride home.

  Marc put a hand on her thigh, gently pinning her to the seat. His hand was warm and her thigh tingled beneath his palm.

  “Calm down and eat some chocolate, will ya?”

  “Calm down?” She wasn’t sure if she was most angry about him trying to manage her emotions or about his hand on her thigh or about how part of her wished he’d slide it up just a little farther.

  Marc stuffed a spoonful of gelato in her mouth. She wanted to spit it at him, but it was good
gelato. Really good.

  While it melted in her mouth, Marc’s eyes locked on hers, and Sierra forgot all about Chloe and that folder and everyone else in that shop.

  10

  Marc tried to ignore the foul-breathed, parasite-infested beast breathing over his shoulder while Sierra drove toward his house and toward even more reminders of their history together.

  After the last half hour together, the last thing he wanted to remember was their past. All he wanted now was to make new history with the woman beside him.

  While that kiss had confused him, his hand on her thigh while feeding her chocolate had dang near ruined him. For what, he didn’t know yet. Everything.

  He’d had to remind himself that they weren’t alone in that shop. But now it was just the two of them in Sierra’s car on the way to Marc’s house. Now he had one goal: get Sierra inside his house. Preferably for the whole night.

  She pulled into a drive-thru and ordered a plain hamburger for the dog. Once she paid, she turned to Marc and asked, “Will you tell me now what’s in that folder?”

  He laughed, surprised she’d held out this long.

  Gelato. Dark chocolate gelato. He filed away her weakness for future reference.

  He also filed away the fact that she’d been jealous. Of what, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like there was anything between him and Chloe. And he really didn’t understand how confident, tough-as-nails Sierra could be jealous of anyone. Especially when she’d seemed so pissed at him after they left the stadium.

  “What do I get in return?”

  She grabbed the bag from the window, unwrapped the burger to hand it to the dog, and drove off. “Me not asking you what’s in that folder anymore.”

  Not exactly what he had in mind, but still appealing.

  “Sorry, I didn’t think it would bother you this much,” he said. “We have the email address it came from—which we already knew. Adrien gave instructions on how to locate the IP address and steps for tracking down the physical address of the computer used.

  “Is that good?”