Scar yawned and shuffled his wide backend up against the bed until he was flush with the wood floor, clearly unfazed by her words.
Viv scratched him on the head then rose to throw on Jagger’s bathrobe, leaving her swallowed in fuzzy plaid fabric and dunked in the scent of delectable man.
And then the ramifications of what had just happened hit her with another fact.
She’d been naked in front of the new local vet—one she’d likely see often with six rescue cats to care for.
He saw your no-nos. How will you ever look him in the eye again when you have to bring one of the brood in for shots? He’s the only vet in town. You can’t drive all the way back to your old vet in Hoboken every time Howie’s constipated.
Were there veterinarians on Mars?
That seemed like a safe place to start looking for one.
Chapter 2
“Hide me!” Viv urged her best friend since childhood, ducking down behind the bar she was tending.
JC stopped humming a Christmas tune, peering over the top of the bar at her with a frown. “From?”
“The hot vet.”
“Who?”
“The hot vet who’s the size of a lumberjack.”
“Jagger? I know he’s big, but he’s harmless. Super-nice guy. Eats lunch here almost every day since he came to town. Eats a lot of lunch. But I promise he’s okay. I know you’re not used to this whole paranormal thing en masse yet, Viv, but don’t overreact. He’s just like you.”
“Said the woman who almost had a coronary when she found out her boyfriend was a werewolf?”
JC giggled at the memory Vi referred to and disappeared from sight, tapping the top of the sleek wood. “Lookie here, buddy. I’m a damn human. I didn’t know you people even existed. It’s a little different than being a paranormal who just needs some practice. Anyway, why am I hiding you?”
Viv peeked out over the edge of the bar at her friend and whispered, “Because…I had a mishap…”
JC’s blue eyes went sharp and probing. “Mishap? I know I should be afraid, but I’m going to venture into the deep end of the kitty litter anyway. What mishap?”
Viv sighed and rolled her eyes at her shame. “I was out last night in cat form, just exploring the woods and stuff, and he caught me and stuffed me in a cage and sedated me. I woke up this morning after I’d shifted back into my human form, twisted up like a pretzel in a dog crate, his dog Scar’s crate, preparing to be spayed as part of this catch-and-release program he does for ferals.”
Her face turned bright red again. She felt it creeping up along her cheeks, warming her skin with renewed humiliation. That ride from his house to hers, dressed in his T-shirt and sweats she’d had to hold up with both hands, wearing shoes easily six sizes too big for her, was the worst walk of shame she’d ever taken.
But she’d turned to him in his sparkly new vet van just before hopping out, stuck out her hand to shake his, thanked him and held her head high as she sloshed her way through the snow to her new residence, vowing to take her cats to Mars for veterinary care before she’d ever look that man in the eye again.
And now here he was. Oy.
“Oh and one more small detail. I woke up in the cage naked.”
JC’s lower lip trembled, her eyes tearing up before she burst out into laughter.
Viv pinched her hand. “Shut up! Don’t make it any worse than it already is.”
JC held up a hand while she gasped for breath. “Sorrysorrysorry! Let me catch my breath!”
“Not laughing.”
JC barked another laugh-snort. “It’s okay. I’ll laugh for you.”
Viv rasped an aggravated sigh. “Okay, so it’s funny. I’d laugh at you, too. Does he come in here a lot?”
She’d just begun to work at JC’s brother-in-law’s bar—aptly named The Bar—two days ago, so she wasn’t familiar with the regular clientele at this point.
“Like I said, he comes in almost every day for lunch. He’s a regular. Single, probably doesn’t cook much. Bet he’ll be in here more often now after this morning…”
Rising, Viv brushed her hair from her face and wrinkled her nose at her friend. “Oh hush. Seeing my fluffy ass naked won’t get me repeat offenders.”
“Really? I dunno, Viv. Looks to me like he’s headed your way, and he shows no signs of fluffy ass syndrome either.” She pointed with a perfectly manicured nail to the mirror behind the bar decorated with silver garland and Christmas balls.
Viv whipped around, horrified and confirmed Jagger’s big, sexy reflection strolling toward her. Letting her head hang low, she winced and did the only thing she could do.
Dove for the floor.
“Hey, JC! Good to see you,” he rumbled, deep and resonant over the Christmas music playing in the background.
Oh, that voice made her melty and weak.
“You, too, Jagger! How’s life treating you since the big move here?”
“I like it a lot. Everybody’s pretty friendly, loving the freedom to shift at will, too.”
“Funny you should mention that. I hear that’s a huge plus to living in Cedar Glen,” JC said on a giggle as Viv rolled her eyes at her friend’s obvious insinuation.
“You okay down there?”
Viv froze at the sound of Jagger’s voice just above her head, bracing her hands on the shelf that held the beer mugs, biting her lip to keep from irrationally screaming at him not to look at her.
“I’m good, thanks.” Her reply sounded wooden and stiff.
“Got a minute?” Jagger asked, his voice closer than it had been a moment ago.
“Sure. What do you need?”
He tapped her on the shoulder. “Well, first, I’d like to see your face.”
Damn.
She looked up to find he’d leaned so far over the bar, their faces were but inches apart, with his minty breath wafting in her nose. Up close, he was just as ruggedly handsome as he’d been from behind the metal bars of Scar’s crate.
Viv swallowed hard. She was no stranger to men. She’d had all manner of boyfriends in her almost thirty-three years—dates, casual lovers from time to time, two serious relationships.
But they didn’t see her naked before she said they could.
Jagger rested his square chin in his hand like he had when they were on the floor of his bedroom. “Are we still at the awkward, ‘oh, my God. You saw me without a stitch of clothing on’ stage?”
Viv couldn’t stop a snort as she rose. “Nah. Waking up in a dog crate in a strange man’s bedroom naked isn’t even a little awkward. It’s the complete opposite of awkward.”
“You mean comfortable?”
“Yep. I was very comfortable. You sure can pick a crate.”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling.
“So what’s up?” she asked, rather squeaky and pitchy, to the tune of more muffled giggles from JC.
“I was wondering if you’re busy tonight?”
“Do you need to practice your sedation technique on someone? Because I think you’ve got that squared away. Or is it tips on how to fit a fully grown woman into a dog cage that you seek?”
Jagger barked a husky laugh, sending a ripple of awareness down her spine. “Not tonight. Though, I will ask that you wear clothes so as not to hurt my delicate sensibilities.”
Now she laughed and shook her head, her cheeks hot all over again. “I’m sorry about this morning. I guess I never really explained. I wasn’t raised a shifter. I’m adopted. I found out much later in life I was different than my parents. So while I’ve shifted, I’ve never really had this kind of freedom, and scenting danger or another shifter is still kind of wiggy and off. In essence, I’m still learning. I wasn’t paying attention last night, and bam—I ended up in a trap. Totally my fault.”
He grinned, the smile lighting up his entire face. “Nah. I should be the one to apologize. I should have scented you, but you were wired for sound. I couldn’t calm you down and I was too focused on capturing and calming you. M
y fault completely.”
As the full effects of the sedation had worn off, Viv had begun to remember fighting him as he’d tried to settle her in the crate. She taken a good chunk of his arm and the evidence of her catching him on his cheek with a claw was staring right at her.
Her fingers went to his face to stroke the crimson scratch without thinking. “Oh, I scratched your cheek. I’m sorry.”
But Jagger grinned again, catching her hand in his and holding it while her pulse raced. “Hazard of the job. But I know how you can make it up to me.”
The warmth of her hand in Jagger’s much bigger one overwhelmed her, but it was a nice way to be overwhelmed. “Neosporin?”
“Nope. A date.”
“As in go on one with you?”
“Yep.
She played coy. “But we have no mystery. No big reveal to look forward to. You’ve already seen me naked. What’s left?”
“Who said I wanted to see you naked again? That’s so repetitive. And maybe I don’t want to have to solve the mystery.”
She giggled—foolishly, breathlessly. “You’re a man. You all want to solve the mystery.”
Now he rolled his dark eyes in jest. “Okay, fine. I won’t say I didn’t think about solving the mystery. But I’m okay already knowing the ending. I’m not much for surprises.”
Even as flushed and distracted as she was from all this flirting, she still managed to note how utterly in the moment she was with him—how easy it was to banter back and forth.
“So where do you want to take me on this date?”
“What’s your take on paper shredding?”
“As a rule or as fun date activities go?”
“Fun date activities.”
“Oh, it’s right up there with scorpion petting, fitted-sheet folding, and watching ketchup drip for NASA.”
“NASA watches ketchup?”
“Duh. Astronauts deserve condiments, too.”
“You can get a job watching ketchup drip at NASA? What sorcery is this?”
“Who knew, right? But that’s what Craigslist tells me. It’s called viscosity, I think. I was all in until I found out I had to use a ruler to determine the rate of the drip per nanosecond. I’m the un-math.”
He nodded in solidarity, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, me, too.”
Viv shook her head and mocked sadness, letting her lower lip jut outward in a pout. “Oh, forget that date then.”
His eyes went wide, all the while, his thumb making a lazy pattern of heat on her skin. “You’re breaking up with me already? Even after I said I’d get over seeing you naked? Why so soon?”
“How can two people who have no fiscal sense ever date? What if our scorpion-petting, ketchup-drip watching date was so awesome we decided to get married? We’d be broke in no time flat. There has to be a yin and yang. You know, I pick up the slack where you falter and vice versa. Two un-maths would be death, for sure.”
“What if I told you I’d buy a calculator?”
“I might reconsider.”
“Then how about I pick you up tonight at seven at your place. We’ll grab dinner. I’ll bring the calculator, you bring the ketchup.”
“But what about the scorpion?”
His raven eyebrow rose with a skeptical slant. “Does he eat a lot? Remember our fiscal obligations.”
Viv’s head fell back on her shoulders as she laughed. “Seven’s perfect.”
He leaned in a bit closer before letting her hand go, his cologne settling in her nose with woodsy perfection. “I’ll see you then.” With that, he let go of her hand and sauntered out of the bar, the weak mid-afternoon sunlight glancing off his dark hair as he opened the door, and then he was gone.
She stood rooted to the spot, her heart thrashing in her chest, her thoughts muddled.
JC held up her empty glass under Viv’s nose and fanned herself with a grin. “Phew, girl! I’m all hot and bothered. Ice, please.”
“It’s twenty degrees out with another five inches of snow forecasted. How could you be hot?”
“After that exchange about ketchup and shredding and scorpions? Who wouldn’t be hot?”
Viv giggled like she was at the high school dance and the cutest guy in school had just asked her to awkwardly sway back and forth to a Backstreet Boys song. “He’s cute, huh?”
JC leaned in on her elbow and chucked Viv under the chin. “He’s adorably enormous. I can’t believe you’ve been here all of a week and managed to snare yourself the town’s most eligible bachelor.”
“Yeahhh,” she whispered, still inhaling the scent of his cologne and reminiscing about his thick thighs. But then she straightened. “Wait. Most eligible? Is he a serial dater or something?”
JC shook her head full of dark curls. “No. By eligible I mean he’s the only bachelor in town. Most everyone here is mated.”
“I’m not getting myself into something I’ll regret, am I? He’s not super-Casanova, is he? Because as my BFF, it’s your responsibility to tell me all the juicy details you have on him. I don’t want to get all excited if he’s a bag of dicks. Remember Nick?”
JC nodded her dark head. “The one you dated because he had a Backstreet Boy’s name.”
“That wasn’t the only reason. He was pretty cute. Super smart.”
“Super engaged.”
“Exactly. No repeats of messy entanglements part two.”
“So his fiancée showing up at the fundraiser for the Hoboken shelter and all but knocking you out of that amazing pair of shoes you wore is out?”
Boo-hiss. Just remembering those shoes made her heart hurt. They’d been amazing, all right. Sparkly, gold Louboutins. Now sold in the estate sale the bank had forced her into.
But the worst part of that night was the pain she’d help cause without even knowing she was a party to it.
“Definitely out. I never want to be a party to someone else’s heartache again. So have you heard anything about Jagger? Tell me the truth. I can take it.”
She held her breath. JC would come clean if she had, but Viv really, really didn’t want there to be any dirt.
JC lifted her fork and grinned. “Clean as a whistle as far as I know. But he’s only been here a few months, Viv. Finally moved his practice for good last month after Max talked him into leaving New York and coming here to help with the pack, among other things. He’s been a tremendous resource for those who’ve suffered with the DNA issues.”
“But he’s a vet. Not a doctor.”
“Which is better than a human doctor and discovery, don’t you agree? How do you go to a human doctor and explain getting stuck in shift and the side effects that creates?”
Viv smiled and raised a finger in the air. “Point. So wish me luck?”
JC rolled her eyes. “As if you, the queen of vixens, need help? I’d be smarter wishing Jagger luck.”
But this was different somehow. Jagger was different. She just wasn’t sure why or how it was different. But it felt important. Really important.
Grabbing JC’s hand, she looked at her friend. “No. I mean it. Wish me luck.”
JC’s blue eyes were confused at first and then they went soft and warm. “Luck. So much luck.”
Viv straightened, her stomach in an unfamiliar knot, her heart pitter-pattering at an erratically excited beat.
She squared her shoulders as she looked at the clock. She still had four hours until her shift ended. No more daydreaming about Jagger or dwelling on the magic that was just his mere presence.
But she found herself humming another one of those Christmas tunes someone had played on the jukebox, a smile on her face.
* * * *
Jagger dropped his cell phone in the jacket of his white lab coat and inhaled a deep breath of the cold air as he left Floyd and Marcy Brown’s old farmhouse, smiling at them as they stood at the front door with their cockapoo, Mookie, safely in Marcy’s arms.
“Thanks, Dr. Dubrov,” Marcy said with a watery smile, the tears she’d shed earlier dry
ing to leave streaks in her makeup. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to my Mookie.” She snuggled the white dog closer.
Mookie had been the victim of some kind of animal attack. An attack, because he couldn’t identify the tooth mark, he’d have to discuss with Max. Here in Cedar Glen, they didn’t hunt out of respect for Max’s cousin Hector, who was, due to the tampering of his ancestors’ DNA, a vegetarian.
The nick to Mookie’s paw wasn’t significant, and only a partial nick at that, but it was definitely done by another animal. But what kind of animal? Certainly nothing he could smell. This had occurred just outside the fence of the Brown’s farmhouse and there weren’t any dogs in this particular part of Cedar Glen.
“My pleasure. Now make sure he finishes all the antibiotics. They should take care of the swelling in his paw, and he’ll be back to his old self in no time flat. Give me a call if you have any questions. Have a good night.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Floyd said, clapping him on the back. “Make sure you spread the word somebody’s out there somewhere, attacking our pets. Damn well better not let Max catch ’em. He’ll draw and quarter ’em just like the old days.”
Jagger winced and held up a hand. “Let me investigate before we hang ’em high, huh? Could be an animal who’s not a shifter has migrated due to population or something. So let me look into it before you break out the shotgun, okay?”
“You got it, Boss,” Floyd said as Jagger turned to leave.
He smiled at the sheer amount of Christmas lights the older couple had hung from the wide front-porch railings, stepping over the big basket full of pinecones and ornaments.
The days were darker much earlier now and he had a date to prepare for; that made him smile wider as he strode down the steps toward his van.
The longer he was here in Cedar Glen, the more he liked the people, the surroundings, the new practice he was creating since leaving his mentor, Dr. Milo Mathews, back in New York. But after meeting Viv today, everything else paled in comparison.
Jesus, she was beautiful. Blonde hair falling around her shoulders to the middle of her back; big, round green eyes fringed with dark lashes; soft, pale curves; pouty peach-colored lips.
Moves Like Jagger (Wolf Mates Book 4) Page 2