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Beneath the Scars

Page 28

by Cherise Sinclair


  Please, let it work out.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hearing doors slam across the street, Holt paused in the basketball game. Josie, Carson, and Stella got out of the car. Church must be over.

  “Catch, Holt,” Wedge called.

  Brought back to reality, Holt caught the ball, took two steps, and did a nice layup.

  Duke and Elijah groaned as the basketball ringed the hoop and dropped in. Holt exchanged fist-bumps with Wedge as Elijah rebounded and tossed the ball to his teammate.

  While Duke dribbled in an erratic pattern, working his way toward the hoop, Holt asked, “You guys know I’m a firefighter, yeah?”

  “Sure, man. We know.” Duke dodged left.

  Holt blocked. “You know about the middle school problems—some dumbass starting fires?”

  “Heard that.” Duke passed the ball to his teammate, barely getting by Holt’s hand.

  The kid zipped around Wedge and took a shot. Missed.

  Holt rebounded and tossed the ball to Wedge who took a shot from where he stood. Score.

  “Good shot!” Holt caught the ball on the way down. Instead of tossing the ball to Duke, he studied the three teens around him. They were uncomfortable, their gazes on the ball, rather than him. They knew something, dammit.

  “Listen, guys. I’ve rescued children from burning buildings. And sometimes we arrive too fucking late.” His jaw clenched at the memories. The sights, the scents, the sheer ghastliness of something that should never happen. “I know ratting out a friend is bad, but Jesus, don’t put me through having to see a child burned to death again.”

  The boys were silent. He knew they’d heard him. Felt him. Because, contrary to belief, most kids were fucking openhearted and sensitive. A person just had to break through all the noise in their lives.

  “Whoever’s starting fires isn’t one of us,” Wedge said, finally. “I mean, not someone from the high school. Or a grownup. It’s someone who goes to the middle school.”

  Holt felt his gut tighten. Young arsonists sometimes used fire as their way of coping…and could start hundreds of fires over a lifetime.

  “Don’t know more than that,” Duke said.

  Holt nodded. “Thanks.” He tossed the ball to Elijah who spun, feinted, spun again, and shot the ball into Duke’s hands. The teen dodged from the corner and scored.

  “Nice job.” Grinning, Holt heard his cell ring, glanced at the display, and backed away to answer it. “What’s up, Jake?”

  His friend sighed. “Problems. You know my vet clinic and the local animal shelter are co-hosting the adoption benefit today. The one at the local pet store?”

  “Seems like you mentioned it. And?”

  “And several of the shelter staff are home with the flu. I’m looking for warm bodies—no experience necessary—to help for three hours this afternoon.”

  “Sure, I’m in.” Holt turned to look across the street at Josie’s house. She’d invited him to the post-church dinner. Bet he could draft them into working. “I might manage to nab another one or two.”

  His woman wouldn’t turn down a good cause.

  As he hung up, he smiled. Fuck, he really did love her—although sometimes she looked at him as if she was thinking about fleeing the city, if not the state. Poor little subbie. She loved him. She might not say the words, but her body and emotions didn’t lie.

  On Friday and Saturday, he’d spent time with her at the Shadowlands, and after they returned home, he’d jumped the fence and used the sliding glass doors on her patio. He’d gone back home before Carson returned from Stella’s place.

  Someday, Josie would realize he was in her life to stay, and the sneaking around could end.

  He could think of nothing finer than to wake with her in his arms every morning for the rest of their lives. When her worries weren’t running through her head, she was funny, logical, caring, cute, smart, and strong enough to hold her own…or to let him take control.

  However, when her past came to the forefront, she tried to pull away. Old hurts took time to heal.

  When Beth and Nolan had adopted two abused boys, their social worker told them trust wouldn’t happen completely until the children had lived with them for as many years as they’d been abused.

  Holt shook his head. Just as well he was a patient Dom. Josie—and Carson—were worth waiting for.

  Today, he’d go over and talk them into helping facilitate furball adoptions.

  * * * * *

  Followed by her son and great-aunt, Josie accompanied Holt through the pet store. Near the center, dogs in crates and on leashes filled the fenced-off area normally used for dog training. An eight-feet-high, transparent mesh tent held cats in carriers. At the opening in the fenced-off area, several people sat at a long table to handle with the pet adoption paperwork.

  The adoption event appeared to be off to a fine start. Several potential adopters were already visiting with the animals. One young man was on his knees, crooning to a big mixed-breed dog. “Wanna go home with me, boy? I’ve got a big backyard and—”

  “Holt, Josie, you came!” Hazel eyes bright with enthusiasm, Rainie motioned them into the fenced-off area. She was in jeans with a peasant shirt under a blue vest bearing the name of Jake’s vet clinic and “ADOPTION STAFF”. Her colorful brown hair was pulled back. “I’m sorry to mess up your Sunday. Whoever heard of everyone getting sick at once?”

  “It happens during flu season. We had some firefighters out last week.” Holt turned to Oma. “Stella, this is Rainie who manages a vet clinic near here. Rainie, this is Stella Avery, Josie’s great-aunt, and this young man is Josie’s son Carson.”

  “I’m delighted to meet you both.” Rainie gave Oma an assessing look. “Mrs. Avery, how would you feel about helping with the screening paperwork and fee? Marcus can show you the ropes since he’s handled the last three adoptions on his own.”

  Oma nodded. “I’m very good with paperwork. Lead me to it.”

  “Perfect.” Rainie offered Oma her arm and called, “Gabi, can you put Holt and his crew to work?”

  “You bet.” Also in a blue vest, the strawberry blonde with a teal streak in her hair was easy to recognize. Gabi and her Dom, Marcus, had been the ones to stand up for Josie against Amber. “Welcome to insanity, you guys. I’m so glad you came.”

  Carson eyed Gabi’s temp tattoos—orange kittens spiraled around her forearms—and grinned.

  Josie put a hand on his shoulder. “Gabi, this is my son, Carson.”

  Gabi delighted Carson by shaking his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Carson. You’re going to have fun today. Our job is helping match people with pets, supervising the meetings, and escorting the new family to the front to get their paperwork done.”

  Carson stuck his hands in his pockets. “Sounds cool.”

  “It really is.” Gabi dug into a box under the paperwork table and handed over blue vests. “Here, this makes you look official.”

  Josie pulled on the vest, saw Holt had moved to talk with Marcus, and Carson was…

  Already in his blue vest, Carson was down on his knees in front of a cat carrier.

  Josie, you idiot. Major parenting blunder. Their apartment hadn’t allowed animals, but they lived in a house now, and her boy would spend the next few hours surrounded by adorable fur babies longing for a home.

  Stepping back beside her, Holt followed her gaze. “You’re so screwed.”

  “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

  “Sweetheart. A boy needs a pet.” As he put an arm around her, and she saw the devilish quirk of his lips.

  “You…evil person.” She considered kicking him in the shin. No, that would set a bad example for her baby. “I’m going to add you into my book. As a villain. And have you dismembered. And de-dicked.”

  “Aren’t you a vicious one? Ouch.” Maybe Holt was evil, but his warm, masculine laughter could pull angels from the sky.

  Gabi snickered. “I’m so going to read your books.”<
br />
  “You know I’m an author?”

  “Holt told us how good your series is, and I love YA.”

  Holt told people about her writing? Boasted about her? Her next breath fought for room with the burgeoning happiness in her heart.

  Gabi hooked her arm in Josie’s. “If Carson is good with cats, how about you three help with the felines. Kim and Raoul and some of the others are handling the dogs.”

  “Lead the way.” Josie realized Carson wasn’t the only one suffering from a pet craving. “I’d love it.”

  The time passed swiftly. After perusing the history and personality information taped to each cat carrier, Josie used the knowledge to match adopters with adoptees. Each time someone chose a cat to adopt, she barely refrained from doing a happy dance.

  Returning after another adoption, she glanced around the tent. The shelter staff had brought in more cats as carriers were emptied. On one side, Carson was teaching a youngster how to hold a kitten without getting scratched. A young couple was wandering from carrier to carrier.

  An older, battle-scarred cat—the one no one wanted—was out of his cage. Rubbing his cheek against an elderly woman’s chin, he was purring so hard his thin frame shook. Josie pulled in a breath and turned to wipe her eyes.

  “Easy, pet.” Holt moved to her side. The man—no, the Dom—saw everything. Wrapping a big hand around her nape, he tucked her head against his shoulder and let her blink away the tears. Sheltering her.

  Pulling in his scent, she sighed, wishing she could stay, right there, forever. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Mmmhmm.” He planted a kiss on top of her head and let her go.

  “Sir, I’m taking this cat. What is the next step?” At the call from the elderly lady, Holt brushed his knuckles over Josie’s cheek and went to assist.

  As the time went on, she couldn’t seem to stop watching him. Wanting to help. If he needed a hand with a cat, or a ribbon to mark an adoption, or…anything…she tried to be there for him.

  When she’d fetched drinks for all of them, Holt had taken the can she handed him, seen it was Mountain Dew, and the smile he’d given her and his soft, “Thank you, sweetheart,” had made her heart sing. She’d always liked to be helpful but doing something for Holt lit a glow in her heart.

  As the time for closing neared, there was a lull in the visitors to the feline tent. Stepping out, Josie turned in a circle to see what to do next.

  Raoul and Kim—the Shadowlands Master and his “slave”—were busy with the dogs. It was interesting to see Kim watching Raoul, giving him anything he needed before he needed to ask, and responding to the slightest motion on his part.

  Josie snorted.

  “What’s funny?” Gabi walked over.

  “I just realized that Master Raoul watches Kim as intently as she does him.” Josie nodded to where the muscular Master wrapped his arm around Kim’s waist, easing her away from a redneck who was trying to put the moves on her.

  “I thought at first it was just me, then just the submissives—and it was overwhelming at first. But you’re right, it’s a two-way street.” The redhead glanced at the table, and yes, Marcus’s gaze was on Gabi. The exchange of looks held so much love and heat that Josie couldn’t help but be envious.

  Turning away, Josie looked for her two guys.

  Holt stood outside the cat tent, looking in. Looking at…

  Face filled with joy, Carson had a big black cat in his lap. Petting it. Talking to it.

  Seeing Holt’s tender expression as he watched her son twisted Josie’s heart.

  “So…” Gabi grinned and shoulder-bumped Josie. “Are you going to cave in and let Carson take the kitty home?”

  Josie sighed. “I can’t believe I didn’t anticipate this.” But she’d been too flustered when Holt had asked them to spend the afternoon with him. Honestly, her brain turned to total mush around the man.

  “Holt!” A tall blonde called from outside the fencing. “Holt. Oh, it’s you. Amazing. What are you doing here?” She dodged past two people walking dogs and grabbed Holt’s hands. “I heard you broke up with Nadia. Oh, it’s so good to see you again.”

  He smiled down at her. “Di, how are you?”

  A bolt of sheer, green-eyed jealousy shot right into Josie’s chest.

  Gabi put an arm around her waist. “Go and shoo her off, girlfriend. Let her know he’s not free.”

  Josie bit her lip. “But…he is. Really. We don’t have—”

  “You have something, Josie. You were talking about how Raoul watches Kim? Holt treats you like a girlfriend and watches you like a Dom with his submissive.”

  Josie’s mouth dropped open. “He…what?”

  “Would you like to go out for drinks after this event is over?” Still gripping Holt’s hands, Di leaned forward and gazed up at him with big eyes. “I’m free this evening.”

  “Lord help us, she’s going do the sexy hair flip any second now,” Gabi muttered. “Go and save him.”

  “No.” As Josie shook her head, she realized Holt was studying her.

  He obviously knew she and Gabi were watching. He didn’t answer the woman, and he didn’t look away from Josie. When Josie didn’t move, his eyes narrowed. Then he smiled down at the blonde.

  Josie’s heart sank. If he made a date with that woman, it would…hurt. But he had that right. She was the one who said she didn’t date. Didn’t do relationships. Hadn’t said she loved him.

  Di patted his chest. “We should—”

  “I’m sorry, sweets, but I can’t. I’ve fallen hard for a woman, and I’m not seeing anyone else.” Smoothly disengaging, he nodded toward Josie. “There’s my Josie.”

  My Josie. He’d claimed her. Even though Josie kept pulling away, Holt was claiming her in public. She didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t seem to breathe past the huge thickness in her throat.

  “Oh.” Di pouted. “I was sure you’d take longer to get over Nadia.”

  “I realized fast enough that everything worked out for the best.” Holt grinned. “Since you can’t have me, can I suggest a good-looking feline?” He motioned to a green-eyed cat in one of the show cages.

  The blonde laughed. “Nice try. Unfortunately, my dog hates cats and so do I. I’d better get his dog treats and get back.”

  “It was good to see you. Stay safe.”

  As Di moved off, Josie let out a long breath. “I wish I could handle people as smoothly as he does,” she muttered to Gabi.

  Gabi laughed. “I’ve seen you working the bar, and you’re…almost…as tactful as he is. Just almost—because I’m not sure anyone has skills quite up to his.”

  “Ladies, did you enjoy the show?” Holt was suddenly beside Josie and bent down to give her a firm kiss. “Were you taking bets on how quickly I could extract myself?”

  Gabi laughed. “Actually, we were admiring your skill. Not even Marcus is as charming.”

  Holt glanced over to where Marcus was helping an older man fill out adoption papers. “That’s because Marcus is a lawyer—they’re all about the winning. I’m a firefighter, paramedic, and nurse. We’re all about the helping.”

  “You really are.” Josie stared at him. Her heart had that crazy overstuffed feeling again, like when she’d watched him during Anne’s labor. He was just so…astonishing.

  And as he looked down at her, his eyes were warm and tender and the most incredible blue-gray. Hearing Gabi give a small laugh, Josie realized she’d gotten trapped in his gaze. Again.

  Forcing herself to look away, she noticed Carson was watching. From the sulky scowl aimed at Holt, her son had heard Holt laying claim to Josie.

  Closing her eyes, she pulled in a breath.

  Every day, she fell harder for Holt. It was time to stop pretending and have a talk with Carson about grownups and dating and…and stuff.

  * * * * *

  Home from the adoption event, Carson set the cat carrier down in his room and opened the door. “Hey, Poe. C’mon out.”

&n
bsp; Yellow-green eyes studied him, and Carson held completely still. Please like it here. Please like me.

  Slowly, Poe rose. Stopped at the door. Looked at the room. Looked at Carson. Took two steps.

  Carson held out his fingers.

  Poe sniffed him and considered before butting his furry black head against Carson’s hand.

  Tears prickled Carson’s eyes. The cat still liked him. “I guess we’re gonna do okay.” It was hard not to pull Poe into his lap for a hug, for petting, but that would be like…like Holt yanking him into a hug.

  Maybe it’d be kind of nice, but it wouldn’t be cool.

  Carson growled under his breath. Not cool at all because the guy was hitting on Mom. He was a neighbor and had the hots for Mom. That wasn’t right.

  And Mom liked Holt back. She…watched him, and he watched her. She leaned against him on the couch. And Holt kissed her sometimes.

  Carson’s chest felt funny. She was Mom.

  And then Poe ambled onto his lap, its tail brushing his chin. Slowly, Carson stroked down the black fur. I have a cat.

  Carson let out a breath. Holt’d been the one who took them to the adoption event. And when Carson had asked Mom if he could bring Poe home, Holt had winked at him and helped the lady Mom had been assisting. He’d given Carson a chance to talk Mom into adopting Poe.

  And he’d helped Carson with the new phone and helped put cool stuff on it. He’d even added his phone number into the contacts list. Holt really was an okay guy.

  Why couldn’t he just stay a neighbor…and leave Mom alone?

  A tap on the door sounded. “Permission to enter, captain?”

  Carson rolled his eyes and half-grinned. Sometimes his mom was so weird. “Come.”

  Carrying a grocery sack, she walked in, saw Poe, and closed the door behind her. “I see he’s found a good place to sit while he checks out the accommodations.”

  Poe had settled down, draped over Carson’s lap.

  Mom set the sack down. “Here’s the litter box and litter, food and dishes. You can put the litter box in that empty spot in your bathroom. We’ll keep Poe in your room for a couple of days so he knows that’s his spot, then he can have the run of the house.”

 

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