Magnolia Bay Memories
Page 2
“What happened, then?”
“I pushed Kevin for calling me a crybaby, and then he punched me. We both got in trouble, and Ms. Mullins—she’s the principal now—said we’ll have to apologize to each other in the morning, but after that, we’re gonna forget all about it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Heather added with a stern look at Josh. She and Josh’s twin sister, Caroline, walked toward them hand in hand. Caroline seemed to be the complete opposite of her brother. Wearing a still-pressed-looking jumper, her white blouse and socks neat and clean, her long blond braids tied with crisp blue ribbons, Caroline was as reserved as Josh was outgoing.
Adrian couldn’t help noticing how cute Heather looked, even dressed as she was in slightly baggy jeans and a simple white blouse with a modest neckline. What seemed like a deliberate effort to hide her femininity wasn’t working. Had never worked, in fact, at least as far as he was concerned.
The needy kid who now clung to Adrian’s leg in an effort to regain his attention kept him from reaching out to touch the bright blond curl that had escaped Heather’s haphazard ponytail. It wasn’t that the kid was physically in the way because if Adrian wanted to touch Heather, no one would be able to stop him. What stopped him was the fact that she had kids.
It wasn’t because Josh’s attention-seeking behavior could be exhausting.
It wasn’t because Caroline was so unbearably shy that she often hid behind Heather with her thumb in her mouth.
It wasn’t because Erin, the willowy girl who strolled toward the shelter with her nose in her phone, was prone to flare-ups of teenage angst.
There wasn’t anything wrong with Heather’s kids in particular. If not for all the hangers-on in her life, Adrian would have been up for a quick fling with her, as long as it came with a flexible expiration date. But her kids were a major part of her deal—as they should be—and he wasn’t emotionally ready to be a stepdad.
So he kept his distance, and she kept hers.
She surprised him by reaching out and touching his chest. Her fingers spread across the fabric of his T-shirt, lightly stroking, barely even a touch at all. “You’re bleeding.”
Had she not seen what just happened? “That’s the usual result of being climbed like a tree by a freaked-out cat.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Mom,” Josh supplied. “Adrian was holding that black-and-white cat y’all have been trying to catch.”
Her eyebrows went up, two delicate blond arches of surprise over her wide, leaf-green eyes. “You caught him?”
“I had caught him, yes. I was almost at the shelter with him in my arms when y’all drove up.”
“Jasper barked, and the cat went nuts.” Josh hopped with excitement at the remembered event. “Huh, Adrian?”
He smiled down at the kid. “That sums it up.”
Heather’s pretty face was windowpane easy to read. Her cheeks washed with pink, and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. “I’m so sorry!”
“Jasper tried to chase it when we got out of the car.” Josh tugged on Adrian’s shirt, encouraging him to look down. “But it ran too fast, didn’t it, Adrian? It was already over the fence by then.”
Adrian looked down and put his hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Yep, it was.”
“Lord help us,” Heather said softly, her voice breathless, which had an unsettling effect on Adrian’s peace of mind. “I am so sorry Jasper caused all this trouble.”
As if to underscore her comment about Jasper, the dog took off after another of Reva’s cats from next door who was stalking something in the shrubbery by the shelter’s front porch.
“Jasper,” Heather yelled. “Get back here.”
The overexcited dog paid zero attention.
“Josh, Caroline, please go get that dog and put him in one of the kennels out back.”
Josh ran after the dog and grabbed him by the collar. Caroline followed more slowly. “Caroline,” Heather called out. “Open and close the gates for Josh, okay?”
Caroline changed course, heading for the walk-through gate that led to the kennels. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Make sure they are securely latched once you go through, okay?” Even though there weren’t yet any animals residing at the unfinished shelter, Adrian knew that Heather had been making a point of teaching her kids good safety habits.
“Yes, ma’am,” Caroline said again. The child was a model of good manners.
Heather shook her head. “That damn dog.” Then she reached out and took Adrian’s hand. “Come on inside and let me doctor those scratches.” She even tugged at his hand to tow him into the building as if he were one of her kids.
And he let her do it, without hesitation.
Chapter 2
Heather’s heart fluttered when she walked into the shelter’s reception area with Adrian’s long, strong fingers wrapped around hers. She had grabbed his hand without thinking, but the second their palms connected, an unexpected flash of adrenaline rushed through her. She let go to close the door behind them, then shoved her hands in her pockets.
Reva and Abby came into the room, each holding one end of an extra-large metal crate that they’d set up to house the feral cat. Abby was looking down, struggling to keep her wavy brown hair from falling into her face without letting go of the heavy crate. Short-stepping forward to accommodate Reva’s backward steps, Abby looked up and stopped walking. “He doesn’t have the cat.” She set her end of the crate down.
Reva, who couldn’t see them standing behind her, spoke to Abby. “But the cat said—”
“Nope.” Abby shook her head. “You were wrong.”
Reva eased her side of the crate down on the polished-wood floor, then turned to look. Her shoulders drooped. “Oh. What happened?”
“Jasper happened,” Heather said with exasperation. “I’m sorry.”
Reva shook her head. “Poor cat. How scared he must have been.” The unspoken worry: They’d never be able to catch him after this. He would be much more wary from now on. “Jasper didn’t hurt him, did he?”
“No. Jasper’s a big goofball who wants cats to stand still so he can get to know them. He just doesn’t know how to go about making new friends.”
Reva nodded, but her mouth was tight, disappointment clear in her expressive hazel-green eyes. “We’ll have to work on that. Apparently, Georgia needs a refresher course in manners around cats as well.”
The twins blasted through the front door. “We put Jasper up,” Josh yelled, his voice loud in the empty room of hardwood floors and freshly painted taupe walls with white trim. The furniture that had been ordered for the reception area hadn’t yet been delivered.
“Thank you,” Heather said, lowering her voice in the hope that her son would also lower his. She didn’t want to fuss at him any more than she’d already fussed today (pretty much the whole drive from the elementary school to here). “Would you and Caroline please go get a snack from the fridge?”
Josh’s face fell. “But I wanna—”
Caroline took her brother’s hand. “Yes, ma’am.”
The kids went into the shelter’s kitchen, and Heather heard the sounds of Caroline talking quietly to Josh and the refrigerator door being opened. Erin seemed to have disappeared. “Do y’all know where Erin went?”
Reva touched Heather’s arm, a gesture of comfort. “She’s next door, throwing the ball to Georgia, who has also been banned from the shelter for the rest of the day. Jasper wasn’t the only dog who let his baser instincts take over today.” Then she looked over at Adrian. “How’s your car?”
“I don’t know.” Adrian made a sound of frustration. “Not good is my guess.”
“I’m so sorry,” Reva said. “Let me know what I owe you for repairs.”
“My insurance will take care of it.”
“I’ll finish getting the conference room set up,” Abby said. The shelter’s conference room had been the dining room of the old house. Reva and Abby had furnished it just last week with an antique Persian rug and a lovely old dining table and matching chairs they’d found at an estate sale. “What should we do with this big ol’ crate?”
“Let’s leave it set up,” Reva said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch the cat again soon.”
Adrian picked up the crate and set it against the wall where it would be out of the way. Heather tried not to notice the way the muscles in his shoulders and back shifted under his ripped T-shirt. “Reva, would you mind taking the twins next door so Erin can watch them? I’ll help Adrian take care of those scratches.”
Adrian held up a hand. “No need—”
“Cat scratch fever is a real thing,” Reva interrupted in her sternest tone. “And you don’t want it. Let Heather help you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Adrian’s amiable smile made his deep-blue eyes sparkle. He really was too good-looking, if such a thing was possible.
In the kitchen, Reva herded the kids—who were sitting at the kitchen table eating yogurt pops—out the door with the promise of cookies. Heather pointed to the chair Josh had just vacated. “Sit.” She made sure that her voice sounded strong, capable, no-nonsense. “Take off your shirt.”
She turned on the faucet, and while the water warmed, she located the first aid bin. She took a washcloth from the drawer next to the sink, filled a big bowl with steaming water, then dropped the cloth in. Before she turned around with the bowl in one hand and the first aid supplies in the other, she steeled herself for what she already knew would be a compelling glimpse of gorgeous man.
Oooh, mama. Her imagination didn’t do him justice.
Perched on the chair across from him, she poked through the contents of the first aid box, setting out a bottle of Betadine, a tube of Neosporin, a roll of gauze, and a dispenser of first aid adhesive tape. She wrung out the cloth, then dispensed some Betadine into its folds.
Finally, she met his eyes. Closer than she’d ever been to him before, she noticed that one of his dark-blue eyes had a chocolate-brown occlusion across the top third of the iris. Sitting this close, she could see the shadow of his beard beneath the clean-shaved skin of his square jaw and strong chin with a slight cleft in the center. He smiled at her, a gentle, soft smile that brought out the dimples in his lean, tanned cheeks. Then he closed his eyes and leaned forward. “Do your worst,” he said. “I can take it.”
As gently as she could, she cleaned the scratches then took the bowl to the sink and dumped it. When she turned back, he was watching her, his eyes heavy-lidded, his long dark lashes obscuring the brown spot in his left eye.
She smiled.
He didn’t.
He just watched her with that smoldering, sexy gaze.
She felt like a gazelle being studied by a lion. Her cheeks heated.
Snatching the tube of Neosporin off the table, she moved to stand behind Adrian, where she could escape his steady gaze. Her fingers shook as she twisted the lid of the slippery tube.
“You okay back there?” he asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.
She dangled the tube over his shoulder. “I can’t get it open.”
Wordlessly, he reached back, took it, uncapped it, and plunked it into her outstretched hand. She applied a bead of the medicine to one of the scratches, dragging her fingertip lightly down his bare skin. He shivered.
Now there was nothing but the intimacy of her skin touching his. She smeared the antibiotic cream on the angry red welts, then covered the worst gouges with gauze and tape. Self-sticking bandages would have been easier, but the scratches were too long for those.
She came around to sit in front of him. Keeping her eyes focused on each scratch as she applied the cream, she managed to get through the process without blushing. She finished applying cream to the last remaining wound and reached back for the gauze.
He covered her hand with his, pinning it between his palm and his warm, hairy chest. “That’s good enough.”
Startled, she knocked the gauze onto the floor. “Huh?” She would’ve leaned down to grab the gauze—Weren’t medical supplies subject to the three-second rule?—but he didn’t release her hand.
He kept her hand pressed to his chest. She could feel his steady heartbeat, his slow breaths in and out, his warm skin heating her palm. Her heart started doing that fluttering thing again.
“That tape isn’t gonna stick. It’s fine to leave it uncovered.”
“Oh.” She drew her hand back and put it in her lap. “Okay.” She realized with a shock that until now, with the exception of a few brief handshakes, she had never touched a man’s bare skin—other than her husband’s, of course.
No wonder she’d felt so unsettled.
She was still pondering when Adrian leaned in close…
Her fluttering heart flopped over in her chest. Anticipating the kiss, she sat frozen in place, unable to protest or flee when…
He reached past her to take his shirt off the table, then leaned back to slip it over his head. Her lungs started working again about the time his head emerged from the neck of the shirt.
A slow, sexy grin grew slowly out of the knowing smirk on his lips.
Heart hammering, cheeks flaming, her breathing more shredded than his shirt, Heather pushed her chair back and bolted for the bathroom.
***
Reva herded Heather’s twins through the swing gate between the shelter and Bayside Barn. She left them in her kitchen with a plate of cookies, a pitcher of Kool-Aid, and strict instructions to mind their big sister and stay put. Then she closed the doggie door in the laundry room and told Georgia to stay put too. Georgia had always had a strong desire to play Miss Manners with the cats—and with other dogs—but that trait had gotten out of hand today when she chased the feral cat.
While Reva walked back to the shelter and across the parking lot, she had a telepathic conversation with Georgia, promising to let her out at the end of the workday when the two gates—one drive-through and one walk-through—between the shelter and Bayside Barn had been closed for the night. She also delivered the bad news that Georgia would be denied permission to go back to the shelter until the feral cat had been caught.
Georgia pouted, sending a mental image of herself turning her back and sticking her little nose in the air. Reva had no doubt that Georgia would also choose to sleep on the couch instead of the bed tonight. Fair enough. Bad behavior had consequences.
Reva stood by Adrian’s car and assessed the damage. Not as bad as she’d feared; it looked like none of the scratches were deep enough to require a new paint job. She would insist on paying for Adrian to take the car to the dealership and have the scratches buffed out or whatever they did to restore the factory finish. If it was too much to pay out of pocket, her homeowner’s insurance would pay, since it was her dog who’d done the deed.
With that settled in her mind, Reva scanned the heavily wooded area on the other side of the chain-link fence. The strip of vine-covered trees and shrubs was dense but not wide because it bordered the road that dead-ended at an old boat launch into the marshy bayous that edged Magnolia Bay. She didn’t feel that the cat was hiding in that narrow strip of land. She didn’t sense him in the marshland between here and the bay either. She felt that he was somewhere high and dry. Probably across the road in the vacant lot between here and the next block of estates. Or maybe he was hiding across the street from Bayside Barn in the Cat’s Claw forest.
“Where are you?” she asked. Closing her eyes, she reached out with her intuitive abilities and imagined the cat’s black-and-white fa
ce with its amber eyes, its wide, testosterone-muscled cheeks, and its tattered, battle-torn ears. Slowly, his image shifted, showing her mind an image of his entire body, though it was shrouded in darkness. Hiding under something.
No…in something. A dilapidated structure of some kind. There were plenty of those: the fallen-in house that had been consumed by the Cat’s Claw vines across the street, the various sheds out back of the aging estates on this road and the next. “Oh, well.” She sent a mind message to the cat. “You’re safe enough for now. But you’ll be safer if you’ll let us take care of you.”
She leaned against the front bumper of Heather’s car (she knew better than to lean against Adrian’s beloved hunk of metal) and spent a few more minutes conversing telepathically with the cat. She tried unsuccessfully to assure him that, contrary to his unfortunate experiences today, it would be better for him to come back to the shelter and allow himself to be brought inside than to remain untethered to humans.
She showed images of the inside of the shelter, in particular the upstairs area that would house the shelter cats. He would be the first resident, the first to climb the treelike cat towers, the first to use the cat doors that led into the two-story outdoor play enclosure full of interesting places to play and climb and hide.
No luck, though. In the image he sent of his reaction to all this, he turned his head away from her and licked his paws. He wasn’t impressed.
“Well, then,” she asked. “What would it take?”
He showed an image of Adrian cradling the cat loosely in his arms.
“Well, all righty then. I’ll tell him.”
Not wanting to disturb the planning meeting that had already started, Reva hung around outside the shelter, watering the potted ferns that hung above the white porch railing, then pulling a few weeds that had dared to spring up in the new flowerbeds around the old-growth gardenias.
After a while, she heard the planning committee folks go outside to look at the cats’ outdoor play area. She joined the group and stood at the back, listening to Abby’s fiancé, Quinn, who was the project’s contractor, explain what he’d done so far and what he still had to do.