by R. J. Blain
Burn.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll drive us to the shelter.”
“No. By the time we’re done for the night, the roads will be unsafe. And anyway, in that getup, you’ll freeze to death walking across the parking lot. Go home. I’ll take over your shift at the shelter, and I’ll take care of Miriah—and I’ll make it clear to that Gavin fellow he won’t be screwing with Miriah’s shelter time.”
“You’re a brave man.”
“Thank you for not calling me stupid or foolish, both of which are appropriate descriptors of my current life choices. I gave my word, and I have no intention of breaking it. Anyway, with the weather like it is, it’s safer for you to head home now before the roads get worse. I have good winter clothes, and I can keep Miriah warm for the entire walk.”
“All right. Call the shelter and warn them you might be a few minutes late. Leah will panic if we don’t show up on time.”
“I can do that.”
“Okay. Good. Have fun, Miriah! Try not to adopt every dog in the shelter tonight. You need to pick one and only one. And no cats. If you get a single cat, you’ll end up with ten cats, and you’re crazy enough without the addition of cats to the mix.”
What a bitch. I hissed at her to show her my exact opinion of her correct estimation of what I would do if allowed to adopt a single cat.
Caleb loved dogs.
I liked dogs.
Caleb tolerated cats.
I adored cats and wanted to take every kitten on the planet home with me, which ensured I’d never have a kitten of my own because there was no reasonable adult in my life to stop me after one.
“One dog, Miriah. One. You can pick the dog you want tonight if you really want, just make sure you tell Leah so she can draw up the paperwork. But only one.”
“I’ll make sure Miriah is reasonable about any selection of dogs, and should she adopt a dog, it will be only one dog and not an entire pack of them.”
“The dog is Caleb’s Christmas present, and she’s working at the shelter in part to find the perfect dog. The dog must be the perfect dog, Chase. Are we clear?”
“I see. Well, as Caleb is getting the perfect dog for Christmas, I better get her to the shelter so she has plenty of time to meet the candidates. Drive carefully, Tiana.”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised. “Don’t lose my princess in a drift.”
“She’ll be safe, sound, and warm with me,” Chase replied.
He needed to stop being everything I had ever wanted in a man. If he kept it up, I wouldn’t care if he had a fatal flaw.
Chase wrapped me in a scarf he warmed on the heater before tucking me in his coat and zipping me in. While a snug fit, I enjoyed the odd sense of security.
“You could carry her in a duffle,” Chase father’s suggested.
“We have a ten block walk ahead of us. She might get cold in a bag. She won’t get cold in my jacket.”
“No, but she might get sweaty. With your sweat. That’s a lot to ask of a woman you’re not married to.”
“Dad, stop. She’s not right against my chest. She’s protected by my shirt. She’s not going to be covered with my sweat. Grow up.”
Pity. I wouldn’t have had any complaints behind cuddled up to his sweaty chest. While I’d rather not be drenched in his sweat, I considered it a small price to pay for being close to him.
“If you’re concerned about her getting cold, I have the SUV with me. I can drive you. That will be safer for her. You can leave your car parked here tonight, and when you return to work, I’ll pick you up if the weather hasn’t improved. I’ll go tell the cops I’ll meet them at the station to release your receptionist from timeout.”
“Former receptionist. I have her firing letter already drafted.” Chase returned to his desk, unlocked his drawer, and pulled out a sealed envelope. “You can deliver it. Make certain the police and her lawyer witness you delivering her notice of termination. Text me when she’s opened it, and make certain she opens it in your presence.”
“Having fired my fair share of employees over the year, I know how it works. What’s my job position for this?”
“On my order, and I’m the damned CEO. You can be my assistant for the day. I’ll even have HR draw up a temporary employment slip for you effective immediately.” Chase muttered a curse, grabbed his phone, and said, “Tim, hire my father as my assistant effective this morning and pay the asshole minimum wage.”
“Sir, we don’t pay any of our employees minimum wage.”
“Well, give him the lowest rate we pay and skimp on his benefits.”
Chase’s father laughed. “I don’t need insurance. I’m already insured. Just put me on a contract for the next six months for half hours at minimum wage. I’ll bail the brat out as needed.”
“Sir?”
“Do it. Won’t be the first time we’ve had a contractor. Get him set up and send a contract for digital signature; I need him as an employee so he can deliver a firing notice.”
“I’ll have it sent to his email address on file within the next twenty minutes, sir.”
“Thank you.” Chase hung up. “Anything else I’m not going to like, old man?”
“Well, I have to go to the station to release your receptionist from timeout so she can talk. Things would be nicer if we didn’t have to listen to her talk.”
“You need to take ethics courses, Dad. She does get a chance to defend herself. Make it clear to the police we’re prepared to request an angel to verify her actions.”
“I’ll make sure they know that,” his father confirmed. “Get everything you need while I go tell the police I’m driving you to the animal shelter before meeting them at the station.”
Chase sighed. “All right. Keep me in the loop on what’s going on. If the temperature gets too low and you’re done with the cops, I’ll have you earn your money and pick us up from the shelter. If the weather isn’t too bad, I’ll walk home.”
“Either way, be careful. If they’re willing to come into your office attempting to get rid of Miriah through her allergies, they might go to the shelter.”
“I may not be able to put people in timeout like you, but I’m not defenseless, Dad.”
“I know you’re not, but please be careful.”
“Always.”
Within ten minutes, we were nestled in an SUV on the way to the animal shelter, and Chase evicted me from his coat. The snow fell harder, but the drive didn’t take as long as I expected; I assumed most had left work early to flee the storm, leaving only stubborn stragglers out and about.
Chase’s father chuckled. “She likes the snow, doesn’t she?”
“She spent most of the day watching it from the top of the curtains. After the almond incident, I thought it best to leave her to her watching. I’m going to set up a spot over the heater for her and bring her some hot chocolate tomorrow for when she’s on break so she can enjoy it.”
Chase would make concentrating on my work difficult with such a tempting bribe hanging in the air.
“You’re not going into the office tomorrow. I already told HR to give everyone a paid day off. When they whined about you being the CEO and me just being a contracted assistant, I asked how they planned on getting to work through the estimated two to three feet of snow that’ll be coming down tonight. That changed their tune without me having to say another word. I may have told them I’d handle any fallout with you. Go home after you’ve done your shelter work and stay home. I’d say go home now, but I know you won’t listen.”
“Point taken. I’ll thank HR when I get a few minutes.”
“What about me? Shouldn’t you thank me?”
I descended from my perch near the window and crawled across Chase’s lap. I hopped down to the console, stood on my hind feet and strained to reach Chase’s father, cursing my short form.
Chase picked me up and held me towards his father. I patted the older man’s shoulder.
“I can’t tell if she’s thanking
you for me or if she’s trying to tell me I’m being a baby and should stop whining.”
“I can’t tell if she’s thanking you or being condescending, either,” Chase admitted.
“Either way, she won that around. Oh, that reminds me. I asked your mother already. If you get tired of watching her, she’s welcome to stay with us.”
“No.”
I appreciated Chase’s immediate rejection of the offer.
“You’re not being nice, Chase.”
“I’m not going to get tired of watching her.”
“Next you’re going to tell me you want to marry her. You get tired of people being in your space within ten minutes. You always have. Have you asked her to marry you yet? Do you need help finding a ring? You need to have a ring to ask her. I know this sort of thing is difficult for you, but we’re willing to help you.”
“Dad, you’re going to embarrass her. Anyway, if I even thought about that, you’d crash. The shelter’s not far. Please don’t crash indulging in your flights of fantasy. And anyway, if I were to propose, I’d arm myself with a bucket of that chicken. She probably wouldn’t even notice the ring. She doesn’t seem like the kind to be worried about a ring. I also suspect she’s the kind of independent woman who’d want to pick her own ring since she’s the one who will be stuck wearing it.”
“Chase, Chase, Chase. You have this all wrong. Women want you to go through the hassle of trying to figure out what they’d like. I think you’re onto something with the bucket of chicken, but make sure you give her a gift certificate for as much chicken as she wants for the duration of your relationship. As she’s got herself a little boy, he’s part of the package, too, so don’t you forget to figure out how to earn your way into his good graces, too. A happy son makes for a happy mom, so you take care of that little boy, too. You can start by helping his mom find the perfect dog. Then you need to convince her to let you take some of the credit. Really, boy. You need to figure out what women really want, or you’re going to be hopelessly single forever.”
I stared at Chase’s father in astonishment. For a man who presented himself as more than a little crazy, he had me figured out to frightening degree.
Chase’s idea of arming himself with a bucket of chicken made perfect sense, and while embarrassing, I admitted he’d be well on his way to charming himself into the rest of my life with such a scheme. Therapy might help.
“I’ve had enough excitement for one day, Dad. Please just get us to the shelter intact.”
“Just consider my advice. Also consider that your karma chameleon isn’t protesting my suggestions.”
Busted. I camouflaged and scrambled up Chase’s arm and retreated into the safety of his coat to avoid any other discussions about what I wanted—and needed—in a man.
“Dad!”
“Relax, Chase. Maybe some time at the shelter will do you some good and give you some time to think. Miriah? If he bothers you, lock him in with an ankle biter and leave him there. It’ll serve him right.”
Poor Chase, stuck being related to such a strange man.
Chapter Ten
Chase slid out of his father’s SUV, which was when Gavin’s curse struck. It ignored my presence in his coat, and following a jerk, I shifted and landed in a snowbank with an unhappy shriek.
I viewed my removal from Chase’s coat unacceptable, and I howled my fury over losing one of the few things that had gone right with my day. Snow infiltrated my clothes, and the shock of the cold whipped several extra curses out of me before I regained control over myself.
Chase grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. “Get inside before you freeze to death,” he ordered.
Chase’s father leaned towards the open passenger door and waved. “Have a nice night, Miriah,” Chase’s father said. “Go on and get inside.”
“You, too—and thanks for the chicken. Drive safely.” Pleasantries accomplished, I bolted for the shelter doors and barreled inside. The receptionist, an older woman and one of the shelter’s few full-time employees, laughed while I stomped the snow off my slacks and shoes. “You forgot your coat, your gloves, and your scarf.”
“Long story, Leah. How are you?”
“I’m good. What happened to your friend? I got a call that you were bringing someone else in with you?”
“The weather’s bad enough she needed to head home, so I replaced her for today. He’s outside chatting with someone.”
“He?”
“Another long story. I heard none of the other volunteers are showing tonight?”
“No, not that I blame them. This weather is awful. We’re going to have a busy night. We’re packed with new animals. A puppy mill got busted, and we have fifty new dogs in, and they’re all in bad shape.”
Damn it. “What cretins.”
“You don’t have to dodge cursing around me, Miriah. I indulged for a solid twenty minutes this afternoon. The mill was attempting to breed designer dogs. They weren’t doing a good job of it.”
“What breed?”
“Horgis.”
“What?”
“Horgis. Half husky, half corgi. They’re younger dogs, ridiculously energetic, and have been going nuts because they’re all crammed in the playroom. They’ve lived in cramped cages for their entire lives. They’ve finally settled down, but they’ve been romping. They all need baths.”
I foresaw a wet, miserable evening. “Temperament?”
“Sweet, energetic, and most of them are so ugly only their mother could love them. We think the mill wanted to cash in on designer pups, got a few corgis and huskies, and bred them at random. They’re cute in a fluffy and will love you to death sort of way.”
Would Caleb like a fluffy but ugly dog? “Are they ugly or cute?”
“They’re both. You’ll understand when you see them.”
“That sounds strangely ominous,” I admitted.
“They’ll be cuter once they’re cleaned up and groomed. We’ve hosed the poor things off, but they need a lot of work.”
“Those poor dogs.”
Chase entered the shelter, and like me, he stomped the snow off before stepping fully inside. “He wouldn’t stop talking.”
Poor Chase.
“Try having a tween boy. Your father is an angel in comparison.”
“Don’t say such things about Caleb. Compared to my father, he’s angelic—and he’s definitely quieter than Dad.”
“Go ahead. Try your luck, Chase. Invite Caleb over with your tree as it is right now. When he’s done screaming, you’ll be subjected to a lecture on the advantages of perfectionism.”
Chase arched a brow. “Should I be concerned?”
“Only if he sees the tree in its current state.”
I loved the sound of his laughter. “That explains your determination to redecorate. I can handle a temper tantrum. You don’t need to redecorate unless you want to.”
Leah stared at us with her mouth gaping open.
Introductions. Right. Damn it, Chase kept making me forget the basics. “Leah, this is Chase. He’s standing in for Tiana so she could head home before the weather gets any worse.”
“But what about you?”
I grinned. “I’m good. I’m going somewhere within walking distance.”
“In those shoes?”
I stared at my feet. “Can we just forget today happened?”
Leah snorted. “I’ve a spare of pair boots that might fit, worst case, we’ve got rubbers you can borrow if needed.”
Chase choked trying to smother his laughter.
Did perverted belong in the pro or con column? I needed to think about it later. “Come on, Chase. We have traumatized dogs to bathe. Are there enough kennels for them?”
“We’ve space for all but two, and one of them might be able to fit in a cat cage if we can find a pair of cats who can stay together, and that’s after partnering up some of the smaller dogs that seem to get along well. We’re going to have to find at least one foster.”
�
��All right, Chase. Let’s go clean some dogs.”
The shelter’s playroom didn’t realistically fit fifty dogs, but the poor animals were so exhausted they slept on each other. Filth covered them, and I gagged at the thought they’d already been hosed off once already.
“It’s not every day I contemplate murder, but I’m getting close,” Chase confessed.
“Me, too.” I wanted to drown the puppy mill operators. No, drowning killed them too quickly. I wanted to light them on fire and slowly roast them first. “Would you mind calling Gavin and asking for a stay of chameleon? I’m not leaving until they’re all clean, and if I have to talk to him, I might add him to the people I want to kill today. I’ll start with the first dog while you take care of him.”
“Sure. I’ll ask his divinity to bring you some winter clothes, too. I bet the bastard can teleport.”
“Take a picture of the dogs, but warn Gavin that Caleb isn’t to see the images. It’ll upset him.”
“Okay.” Chase snapped a few photographs and headed towards the reception.
I cracked open the playroom door and snagged the nearest dog; she didn’t even stir. I guessed she weighed about twenty pounds, and judging from the size of her paws, she had a lot of growing to do.
Instead of husky, I suspected the h in horgi stood for hulky; full grown, I wouldn’t be surprised if she hit fifty pounds. The groom station included tall tub capable of containing small and mid-sized breeds, and I hauled the young dog in and rubbed her head until she woke up.
“Good girl,” I soothed, petting her despite my skin crawling at the muck caked into her coat.
I grabbed the extendable faucet and turned on the water, careful to make sure it was room temperature. According to the horgi, I ushered in the apocalypse. She howled and ran from the stream. Pawing at the sides did her no good. I would win the war, although I’d try to win it with as minimal struggle and suffering for the dog as possible. Arming myself with the dog-friendly shampoo, I prepared to battle the unhappy animal.