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Single Kid Seeks Dad

Page 9

by Linda Wisdom


  “A little after two.”

  She pushed her hair away from her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Luther’s sick. He threw up in my bathroom.” He wrinkled his nose. “I tried to get him to drink some water, but he threw that up, too.”

  Lucy tried to sit up, but she found herself effectively trapped under the covers with Nick sitting on the side of the bed. She gently pushed her son off the bed. As she pushed the covers back, chilly night air hit her with a vengeance. It would have been so easy for her to slide back under the warm covers. She gritted her teeth and reached for her robe, but that was also trapped. This time under Domino’s body. The puppy sat up and yipped.

  “Let’s see what’s going on.” She retrieved her robe and slipped it on. “Is he still in your bathroom?”

  Nick nodded. “I put him in the bathtub in case he throws up again.”

  Lucy set Domino on the floor and loosely tied the sash of her robe as they walked to Nick’s bathroom.

  A pitiful yowl reached their ears as they neared the room.

  “That’s definitely not Luther,” she murmured. “He disdains sounding pathetic.”

  Inside Nick’s bathroom, the sound of the cat’s misery seemed to bounce off the tile. She swallowed her sigh of dismay as she discovered Nick had used all of his towels to cover the soiled floor. But it was her cat, huddled in a corner of the bathtub, that caught her attention.

  “Oh, Luther, did you eat something bad when you were out tonight?” She dropped down to her knees and reached over the side of the tub to stroke the cat’s back.

  His answer was another pain-filled yowl. Her stomach clenched in sympathy. She couldn’t remember the last time her cat was sick. She used to joke he was too ornery to get sick.

  “I’ll call Logan,” Nick said.

  Lucy then noticed he held the phone in one hand.

  “He’s always available for emergencies,” he explained, waiting as the line on the other end rang. “Logan? It’s Nick Donner.” He paused. “Uh, no, she’s fine.” He cast a quick glance in Lucy’s direction. “It’s Luther. He’s throwing up a lot.” He nodded as he listened. “Okay.” After giving directions to their house, he hung up. “He said he’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

  “That fast?” Luther’s plaintive meow brought her back to attention. “Don’t worry, baby,” she murmured to her cat. “The doctor will be here soon and will make you feel better.” She looked up at her son. “You better finish wiping up the floor before Logan arrives.”

  “Me?”

  “If you can clean up after all those dogs and cats at the clinic, you can clean up after your sick cat,” she said firmly.

  Nick muttered under his breath as he quickly wiped up the floor with his towels then wadded them in a bundle.

  “Put them in the washer, not in the hamper,” Lucy instructed.

  She continued to stroke the cat, afraid to pick him up in case the motion only made him more ill. She was so engrossed with reassuring her cat everything would be all right, that she didn’t hear Logan’s arrival until he walked into the bathroom.

  “So this is the infamous Luther.”

  Lucy looked up. If Logan had been awakened from a sound sleep he didn’t look it. His brown eyes looked alert behind his glasses, even if his dark-blond hair was mussed.

  Her worries about her cat dissolved as Logan crouched down next to her and leaned over the side of the tub. His words to the feline were soft and reassuring. Luther looked at the stranger with a wary gaze but allowed Logan to touch him.

  “With him throwing up like this, putting him in the tub was a good idea,” he said.

  “Nick did that,” she replied.

  “Good thinking,” he told the boy.

  “More like training,” Nick said, pleased with the compliment. “I fell off my bed and split my head open when I was younger. Mom took me into the bathroom to check it out. She said it was easier to clean up tile.”

  “Very true.” Logan gently examined the cat and took his temperature.

  Lucy knew her pet had to have been feeling wretched since he didn’t give Logan any trouble. Not once did his claws appear to take an angry swipe at an unwary veterinarian.

  “Has he been outside lately?” Logan asked.

  “He was out for a while tonight. He’s not much of an outdoor cat, but he likes to do some roaming at night.”

  “He’d make a good snack for a hungry coyote,” Logan commented.

  “The coyotes are afraid of him,” Nick said.

  “Probably for a good reason.” Logan continued his medical assessment. “When he’s been out lately, has he caught anything?”

  “We’ve found some lizards and a couple of gophers that he left by the patio door,” Lucy replied.

  “At first glance, I’d say he picked up something that didn’t agree with him,” Logan said, sitting back on his heels. “It sometimes happens where they come across a dead animal that’s too good to resist. I brought something to help settle his stomach. He’s probably already gotten rid of most of what made him sick.”

  “Tell me about it.” Nick wrinkled his nose. “I had to clean it all up.”

  “Cats are usually choosey about what they eat, but sometimes they’re tempted.”

  “Probably because I changed Luther’s food over to a formula for senior overweight cats,” Lucy said. “He hasn’t been happy with me since then.”

  Logan rummaged through his case and filled a hypodermic. “He’ll be sleepy once this takes effect.”

  “I’ll fix him up a bed in here.” Lucy stood up and left the bathroom.

  Nick watched over Logan’s shoulder. “She was really worried about him,” he said.

  “The sad part about animals is that they can’t tell you where it hurts.” Logan deftly injected the medication.

  “She’s also glad you came out here in the middle of the night,” Nick added.

  “No problem there.” Logan lightly ran his hands along the cat’s back.

  “Here’s one of Luther’s favorite blankets.” Lucy walked into the bathroom carrying a fleece throw. She folded it several times and placed it in a corner of the bathtub. Logan gently picked up the cat and placed him on his soft bed.

  “His bed is a shredded blanket with puppies on it?” he commented. “Does Domino feel as if he has a target painted on his back?”

  “Luckily, Luther’s too fat to chase him and Domino already knows it isn’t a good idea to tease him,” she said.

  Logan settled down on the floor, crossing his legs in front of him while Lucy leaned back against the side of the tub and stretched her legs in front of her.

  “You know that saying about pharaohs worshipping cats as gods and cats never forgetting that? Well, that’s Luther in a nutshell. Even as a kitten, he wanted to be revered. Here was this tiny kitten I could hold in the palm of my hand and he had such an arrogant attitude.” She chuckled.

  “And the name?”

  “I have no idea,” Lucy admitted. “From the beginning I realized calling him Fluffy wasn’t going to work, but the name Luther did. He even responded to it right away.”

  “Lex Luther was Superman’s archenemy. Names make an animal unique.”

  “Like Magnum.”

  “Like Magnum,” he agreed.

  “If you guys don’t mind, I’m going back to bed,” Nick called out from the hallway. “I put the towels in the washer, Mom. And, yes, I turned it on and added soap.”

  “Thank you and good night,” she called back. “Wow, he actually figured out how to turn on the washer.”

  “Good night, Nick,” Logan echoed.

  “I’m taking Domino with me,” Nick told them.

  A moment later they heard a door close.

  Lucy looked down at her legs and cringed at the sight before her. “Oh my God,” she murmured, forgetting her human audience.

  Logan looked at her curiously. “What’s wrong?”

  She wasn’t about to admit she was appalled to rea
lize that due to the chilly night she was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas Nick had given her the previous Christmas. Chocolate cookies and glasses of milk danced across the blue background and the cozy pajamas had quickly become her favorite nightwear. They weren’t the ideal clothing to be seen in by a member of the opposite sex.

  For a moment she wasn’t sure whether to scream with embarrassment or laugh.

  She wanted to put the man off, didn’t she? What better way than for him to see the real her, baggy pajamas and all? All she needed was her hair done up in rollers and a colorful night masque covering her face.

  She lifted a stealthy hand to her head. Along with the pajamas she sported a definite case of bed head.

  “You look kinda cute in a rumpled sort of way,” Logan said, as if he read her mind.

  “I haven’t carried off this look since I was sixteen,” Lucy muttered. “And at sixteen I wouldn’t have been caught dead looking like this.”

  “Which shows how much you care for your cat,” he said. “You’d be amazed what I’ve seen when I’ve gotten a middle-of-the-night call.”

  “Silk and diamonds?” she teased.

  “More like Frederick’s of Hollywood.”

  “The women consider you that hot, do they?” Lucy chuckled, worries about her own appearance now forgotten.

  “More like a few who are bored and think that calling me to come over to look at their so-called sick dog or cat will relieve that boredom. They even dress that way when they bring their animals into the clinic in the middle of the night.”

  “And then I impress you with my cookies-and-milk pajamas and Tweety Bird slippers.” She plucked at the heavy flannel as she pointed one foot covered with a yellow fuzzy cartoon bird.

  “Even if Nick hadn’t been the one to make the call, I would have known your call was genuine,” he said. “Even when it hurts, you’ve been upfront with me.”

  Lucy thought back to what Ginna had told her the previous afternoon.

  “Such as saying ‘not in this lifetime,’” she murmured. “You are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

  “Keeps me humble.”

  “I doubt you’ve ever been humble.” Lucy glanced over her shoulder and noticed Luther was now lying on his back fast asleep. His rounded tummy rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

  Logan turned around and checked the cat. “I’d say the worst is over.”

  “I’m sorry Nick called you,” she apologized.

  “It never hurts to make sure it isn’t something serious. Especially in a cat of his advanced age,” he said.

  “Luther believes in being served only the best,” Lucy said. “But every so often it’s as if he goes into the great kitty hunter mode and looks for the most disgusting thing he can find. Since we’ve moved out here, he’s been in rodent heaven. He was the laziest cat in the world before and while he’s still pretty lazy he’ll rouse himself for a good hunt. I do appreciate you coming out.”

  “No problem.” He stood up then reached down to pull her to her feet. His hands lingered alongside hers.

  Lucy had always thought that Nick’s bathroom was good-sized until now. She felt as if she was standing inside the close confines of a closet.

  “Are you okay?” Logan asked.

  “Yes.” No. There was a definite unsettling sensation in her stomach. She detected the faint scent of fabric softener from his T-shirt and a muskier scent from his skin. She was in big trouble.

  Logan turned away and packed up his case.

  “I’d offer you coffee, but I guess the last thing you want is something that will keep you up,” Lucy said brightly. She mentally thumped herself upside the head as she realized how it sounded. Where was her ability to say the right thing at the right time? “I guess you want to go to bed.”

  “While your invitation is tempting, I think I’d better head for home,” Logan said with a straight face while wicked amusement danced in his eyes. There was no mistaking how he’d taken her words or how much he enjoyed her plight.

  “Let me see you to the door,” Lucy said swiftly, sidestepping her way around him and walking out of the bathroom.

  Logan’s SUV was parked near the front of the house.

  “I haven’t seen the house since before you moved in,” he commented, when they walked outside. “But what I can see looks great.”

  “Thank you.” His praise warmed her. “I couldn’t believe I was so lucky in getting the property. And I love the sprawling layout of the house, so that we each have our own space.”

  “It’s a good place for a family,” he agreed, walking around to the rear of his Jeep and stowing his case away.

  “Thank you again,” she said, following him. “I’m sure Luther also appreciates your coming out.”

  Logan slapped the rear door shut. He turned around and leaned against it.

  Before Lucy could realize what he was dong, he pulled her into his arms. Her lips were parted in a surprise when his mouth covered hers.

  She couldn’t remember the last time a man had kissed her, but she did know that no man, not even her ex-husband, had ever kissed her the way Logan was kissing her at that moment.

  The air around them was chilly, but the man holding her was warm and his kiss intoxicating as he alternately nibbled and stroked her lips apart. If she hadn’t been holding on to his arms she would have easily melted into a puddle of pure sensation.

  The kiss could have lasted five seconds or it could have been five hours. She lost all track of time as the hot temptation of his mouth painted in her mind sensual pictures that had to be illegal. She had no idea when her arms ended up looped around his neck or how her body molded itself against his until nothing could have gotten between them.

  Lucy forgot everything but the heated feel of the man wrapped around her. The man who had her feeling as if they had all night to do just this.

  When did kissing become this erotic? A hazy part of her brain acknowledged he was truly gifted. He tasted of midnight fantasies all wrapped up in silk and chocolate. She tipped her head to one side and nipped his jaw just because it seemed like a good idea. Judging by the hardened feel of his body against hers, it was an excellent idea.

  Logan Kincaid was good enough to eat!

  Lucy felt as if she was floating until she realized that Logan was holding her up off the ground.

  Logan leaned back a little and stared down at her. The moonlight shone on his face, starkly detailing his arousal.

  “Lady, you pack one hell of a punch.” His voice was raspy with the same searing desire that engulfed her.

  “Ditto.” She felt so dazed, it was a miracle she could say anything at all.

  Logan carefully set her back down on her feet.

  “I’ve got to get home.” His voice hadn’t recovered its usual deep timbre.

  “Why?” She had trouble catching her breath. Even her knees felt wobbly. The idea of dragging him back into the house and having her way with him was very appealing. If she stopped to think about what she was considering, she’d swear she’d lost her mind. If Ginna and the others ever heard about their kissing, they’d never let her forget it. If they sensed what had just run through her mind, they’d be out ordering the wedding invitations.

  Logan took a deep breath. He looked away, dragging his hand through his hair. “I only meant to kiss you. To throw you off guard a little. I didn’t expect—” He shook his head, unable to say more. Or just plain not willing to. He turned back to her. His expression was fierce and could have appeared frightening to anyone who didn’t know him. “Go inside, Lucy. Go back inside and check on your cat and look in on your son and your puppy and then go to bed. Alone. Do all this before I completely lose my mind and convince you to go home with me.”

  She raised her chin. The fire in her eyes dared him to argue with her. “Who says I’d allow you to convince me?”

  Logan revealed that actions spoke volumes over words. All it took was one hard, fierce kiss to have her melting again. He lift
ed her up by her forearms and carried her back to the steps that led to the front door.

  “Good night, Lucy.” He pivoted on his heel and got into his truck. Five seconds later all she saw were the red taillights of his truck as it moved down the driveway. Away from her.

  She gently touched lips that still tingled from his kisses and muttered, “Now that’s what I call a house call.”

  HE’D KISSED the woman until they were both senseless and all day she acted as if nothing more than a platonic handshake had happened between them.

  Logan hadn’t wanted to leave Lucy that night. He had been so hard with arousal, he thought he’d explode. But he was also aware her son was in the house and spending the night making love to the boy’s mother might not be a good idea. Not to mention he was convinced she was dangerous.

  From the moment Lucy stepped into the clinic until she returned that afternoon with Nick, she’d treated Logan as a, well, as nothing more than her employer.

  Her smile never left her lips, and she’d even joked with him and Gwen about a new patient, a woman whose hair was tinted the same apricot shade as her miniature poodle’s.

  Logan had to admit that the practice ran smoother under Hurricane Lucy, as he liked to call her than it had under Brenda. Files were always in easy reach, they were kept updated and even the dog and cat treats jars were kept filled.

  When Nick walked in, Logan noticed he was holding a large cat carrier. The angry yowls emitting from it warned him Nick was carrying Luther.

  “I stopped home to check on him and discovered he’d thrown up again,” Lucy explained.

  “Why don’t you bring him on back and we’ll see what’s going on,” he suggested.

  “So this is the cat from hell.” Gwen took the carrier from Nick. “I’ve heard so much about him, I can’t wait to see the real thing. So he was sick over the weekend?” she asked Lucy.

  “Most of Saturday night. Logan came over and took care of him.”

  “Really?” A wealth of information was injected in that one word as the tech’s gaze moved from Lucy to Logan and back to Lucy.

  Lucy prayed she wasn’t blushing. She compared Gwen’s powers of observation to Ginna’s. And neither woman refused to be put off. She’d gotten to know Gwen over the weeks of working at the clinic and enjoyed the talks she shared with the sharp-tongued vet tech.

 

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