Paws for a Kiss (Canine Cupids Book 1) Page 11

  Shelving his desire to give her a hug of reassurance, Mack immediately knelt beside her and yanked open the next cage. "No animals are going to drown. We can do this." He lifted three kittens out, flinching when a sharp claw dug into his thumb.

  She flashed him a desperate smile. "Thanks."

  "You got it, babe." For once, they were on the same team. It felt good.

  Between the two of them, it took only a few minutes to clear out the bottom row of cages, relocating the cats to the upper levels. Though Mack had more than a few gouges from very unhappy felines, all the animals seemed to be all right, albeit wet and cranky. "What next?"

  Bev took a step back, inspecting their results as if she couldn't believe the immediate danger was past. "The dogs. Their pens have about five inches of water in them. Not enough to drown them, but we can't exactly leave them there."

  "I'll get 'em. Where should I take them?"

  "You could try the outdoor pens. There's enough room for some of them there."

  "Right." Mack turned to leave, trying not to think about how appealing Bev looked, with her wet shirt clinging to her curves, her ponytail plastered to her head and her dark eyes looming out of her pale face. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and take her away, but instead he walked out of the cat room toward the dog pens.

  A few minutes later, he was carrying two wet mutts out the back door to the pen. He'd started with the shortest dogs. Mack stopped in the doorway and looked out at the pen. Water was streaming from the building to the pen, turning it into a swamp of bark dust and mud.

  A gentle touch to his lower back caught his attention. "Oh, no. Look at that. We can't put them out there."

  Mack adjusted the squirming dogs, feeling the water from their fur soak through the final dry spots on his shirt. "I have an idea."

  Bev took one of the dogs from him and hugged it to her, burying her face in the soft fur. "If you say I should take them to the Humane Society, I'll kill you."

  Mack tightened his lips. "Do you really believe I would say that?"

  She lifted her eyes to his, searching his face. "No."

  He nodded, relieved. "We can take them to my house."

  "Your house?"

  "I have ten fenced acres. I hate to keep Janey penned in, but I don't want her to get hit by a car. So I fenced in the whole thing. We could take them there. I have a huge basement game room. There's plenty of room for the cat cages down there."

  Her jaw dropped open. "Ten fenced acres?"

  He nodded. "Let's go—"

  She didn't move. "They might dig up your yard."

  He snorted. "Grass can be replanted. How many dogs do you have here right now?"

  "About thirty. I haven't taken in new ones since..." She stopped and looked at him. "I'm not taking new ones at the moment."

  "Because of me."

  "Yes," Bev sighed. "But I know you wouldn't do it if you had a choice."

  His heart flipped. Had she forgiven him? "Bev..."

  But she had turned away, her cheeks pink. "We'll have to take about six trips to get them all to your house."

  "A lot will fit in my truck."

  "You're going to put wet animals in your beautiful car?"

  "Give me a break, Bev. I'm not a monster. Janey's in my car all the time."

  "But these are shelter dogs. Soggy. Muddy. I don't even have papers on all of them." She was trying very hard not to crack a smile, but the corner of her mouth was twitching. "They might have diseases."

  "I guess I deserved that." Was this the first time she'd teased him? Maybe she really had forgiven him. The thought sent a thrill racing through him.

  She finally chuckled out loud, touching his arm. "Don't worry. I won't classify you as a snob now that you've let wet cats claw you." She lifted the tail of his jacket. "And your suit is ruined. You definitely won me over with your sacrifices."

  "Did I?" There was a huskiness to his voice that drew a flush to her face.

  He expected her to avert her gaze, but she looked right at him. "You are well on your way."

  "If I ask you to come home with me tonight, are you going to turn me down again?" He trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, drawing circles around the collar of her wet tee shirt.

  Bev cocked an eyebrow at him. "I have to go home with you. We're taking thirty dogs and the cats with us."

  Mack let his fingers drift downwards, between the swells of her breasts. "And after we get them settled?"

  "We'll have to see." There was no coyness in her tone, and no flirtation in her eyes. Just smoldering passion and the promise of something. Exactly what, he didn't think either of them were sure.

  Time to go home and find out.

  Chapter 15

  It was nearly two in the morning by the time they got all the dogs and cats settled. It had taken four trips, but all the animals were accounted for. Mack's plush basement game room housed the cats and several litter boxes, while the dogs roamed the rest of the house and the grounds, after they'd decided to leave the sliding door to the backyard open so they didn't have to keep manning the door. Neither of them wanted the dogs locked outside for the night, so his house had become a shelter for thirty dogs.

  It was chaotic, messy, loud, and crowded…and he loved every bit of it. His house had never felt so alive.

  He grinned as he watched Bev collapse on the couch in his family room, patting the couch to call her dog up beside her. She was wet, muddy, and beautiful.

  Bev didn't fail to notice Mack watching her as she sank wearily onto the huge couch. She'd caught him watching her all night, surreptitious glances when he thought she wouldn't notice. She had. And now the animals were settled, curled up on dog beds and couches throughout his house…which meant it was time for them. She sighed, looking around his beautiful house. "I'm afraid everything in your house is drenched."

  Mack walked into the room, carrying two beers "You think?"

  "Okay, dumb observation." He'd taken off his ruined dress shirt, replacing it with a snug tee shirt that revealed a chest that was much too muscular for a man who spent so much time at work. He was wearing athletic shorts, showcasing legs that were carved with muscle. Even his calves were delicious. He'd shed his shoes, and now looked like he was ready to climb into bed for the night in his soft tee shirt and shorts. Bev felt a flutter in her stomach, and hugged her dog to her chest, using the canine as a barrier between them.

  The moment had finally come, the time for her to face her attraction to him. After working side by side with him rescuing dogs for four hours, what little resistance she'd had to him had melted away. Now they were alone, they were in his house, with the rest of the night stretching before them. Did she want to do this? And if she did, did she really have the courage to show him she was ready? "Thanks for your help tonight, Mack. I don't know what I would have done."

  "No problem. Glad I could help." He crossed the large room in three easy strides, dropping down next to her on the couch. "Beer?"

  "Thanks." Her fingers grazed his as she accepted the bottle from him. She shifted, letting her leg rest against his. How sculpted would the muscles on his chest feel under her hand? Was his stomach like a rock?

  "Want some dry clothes to change into?"

  She nearly dropped her beer. "What?"

  "Dry clothes." He flicked her shorts. "You're drenched." His hand settled on her bare knee, his thumb massaging gently. "And don't even try to suggest you're going home. No way you're leaving me alone with forty animals wandering freely around my house. You're spending the night."

  Bev cocked her head. "You mean, since they're sleeping with you, I have to sleep with you?"

  When Mack tightened his grip on her leg, Bev grinned, her heart playing hopscotch.

  "You're playing with fire, my love," he said, his breath hot against her neck.

  It was a warning, but she couldn't heed it. Not now, not anymore. She was too committed in her mind, had been thinking about it for too long. She was tired of worrying ab
out consequences. Mack was hers for tonight, and she wasn't going to back away. Bev stood up, cupping Mack's chin with her hand as he looked up at her. "Can I borrow your shower?"

  Mack kissed her fingertips. "Want company?"

  Bev's courage faltered ever so slightly. "Not yet."

  She wondered how long he would stay away.

  The hot water was far from soothing as it hit her sensitive body, which was trembling with awareness of Mack. The rivulets streamed over her bare skin, teasing her breasts, stroking her stomach. Bev closed her eyes, imagining Mack's hands mixing with the water, gliding down her back, sliding over the curve of her hips to her inner thighs, the water simmering hot, wet, ready to be coaxed to a boil by his touch...

  "Bev?"

  Her eyes snapped open. His voice wasn't muffled by the door. He was in the bathroom, separated from her by only a shower curtain. Nervousness and excitement pulsed through her. "You're in the bathroom?"

  "Yep."

  "You need the shower?" Her heart started to race, and she knew she wasn't going to stop him this time.

  "In a sec."

  Bev frowned. That wasn't what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to tear open the curtain and jump in with her. Did he really expect her to come right out and invite him in? She wasn't sure she had the courage for that just yet.

  "I have to tell you something first." His shadow fell across the curtain and fresh awareness surged through her. "I meant to tell you this earlier, but with the flood and all, I forgot."

  "You should come closer. I can't hear you over the water." That was as close as she was going to get to actually propositioning him.

  A distinct male groan floated toward her. "Bev, you're not making this easy."

  "Making what easy?"

  "Not climbing in there with you."

  She took a deep breath. "It would be okay if you did."

  But instead of the shower curtain opening, she heard the thunk of porcelain, as if Mack had shut the toilet lid to create a seat. What was up with that? The man was taking up residence on the commode instead of taking her up on her awkward but extremely genuine invitation?

  She never would have pegged Mack as the type to miss hints. Unless he wasn't missing them and actually didn't want to ravage her body... No. That wasn't possible. Not with the way he'd kissed her. "What's going on, Mack?"

  "Did you wonder why I happened to show up at the shelter tonight?"

  Bev frowned, blinking away the water dripping from her eyelashes. "Actually, I hadn't given it much thought. It wasn't as if it was the first time you waltzed in there in the middle of the night."

  "I came by because I wanted to warn you."

  Sunken dread began to edge out the whir of sexual excitement. "Warn me about what?"

  "The closing date."

  Bev sighed and leaned her head against the tile. The owners had agreed to sell. "How long do I have? Ninety days?"

  "Ten."

  "Ten weeks?"

  "No. Ten days."

  Her soul plummeted. "No."

  "I'm sorry."

  Bev yanked the shower curtain back and stuck her head out. Mack was sitting on the closed toilet, his chin propped up on his hands, a look of dismal guilt on his face. "Mack! What were you thinking? Ten days?"

  His head snapped up, meeting her gaze. His face was rigid, the tendons in his neck taut. But there were deep lines around his eyes. "That's what my client needed, so that's what I did. It's my job. It's not personal."

  Fumbling for the only weapon she could find, Bev hurled a wet washcloth at him, barely registering any satisfaction when it landed on his face like an amoeba over its prey. "I'm so sick of hearing that dumb phrase from you. It is personal, and if you say it again, I'll... I'll..." Darn it. She just couldn't think of a fate worthy of him. "Just when I started to accept that you don't have a choice in doing your job, you negotiate ten days? We both know you had to work hard for that, and you didn't have to go there. You just didn't."

  Mack peeled the washcloth off, his eyes flicking to just below her right shoulder. Bev immediately glanced down to find her right breast fully exposed. Thirty seconds ago, she would have flaunted it bravely. Instead, she pulled the curtain across it. Betrayal apparently rendered lust powerless.

  "I came over to warn you, and to offer any help I can. As it turned out, you did need some help."

  Yeah, leave it to him to point out how grateful she had to be to him. She shut off the shower. "Is there a towel out there?"

  He stood up, the muscles in his back rippling as he tugged a navy towel off its brass rack. She was so irritated with him that the urge to grab his arm and yank him in the shower with her was slightly reduced. Slightly. Which really annoyed her. She should be completely not interested in him. Her damn traitorous body and romantic yearnings.

  Glaring at him, she took the towel, shut the curtain for privacy and wrapped the towel around her body.

  Once the towel was tucked tightly under her arms, she took a deep breath and flung the shower curtain open, giving him her most offended and dignified stare. "Mr. Spenser."

  He was leaning against the sink, arms folded loosely over his chest. A man utterly confident in his masculinity, relaxed in the presence of a nearly naked woman.

  "I'm sorry, Bev." Genuine regret consumed his features, yet his eyes slid over her body, deliberately and without an ounce of purity.

  "Are you?"

  "Yes." He stood up, and took two steps toward her, until his chest was inches from her chin.

  "Ah..." She took a step backwards, her heels hitting the tub. She had nowhere to retreat to. "Then why did you do it? Sixty days would have been bad enough, but ten? What am I supposed to do?"

  The enormity of her plight began to dawn on her, and she felt a lump well up in the back of her throat. No, she would not cry.

  He reached for her, but she couldn't accept his comfort. She pushed his hands away. "Mack. Not now." Her mind was whirling. She thought she'd come to terms with his involvement in the shelter, but now...with the ten-day death sentence, brought on by him...she just needed to think.

  His hand shot out and grabbed the edge of her towel, right above her breast, his wrist pressing against her nipple, springing it back to life in an instant. "Mack!"

  He tugged upward on the towel. "If you don't want me carrying you into the bedroom and making love to you until you can't think, then you better make sure this towel doesn't slip down so much."

  Bev gripped the towel, her mind whirring. He'd pulled up her towel, yet he had to have known she would have fallen into his arms if he'd tried.

  But he would never have done that. The man was pure gold at the same time he could sign a death warrant for her animals. She didn't understand.

  "I'll help." Mack dropped his hand from her towel, but didn't back up. "I'll call Jez. I can convince her."

  Jez. She'd forgotten all about Jez. "She called me. She wants a business plan by today at five."

  Mack looked relieved. "That's great."

  "I don't have a business plan."

  "No problem. We have until five to write one." He glanced at his watch. "That's still twelve hours."

  It was already five in the morning? "I don't know what information goes in a business plan."

  "Ah." He folded his arms across his chest. "But I do. Want help?"

  Help? From him? "Yes, of course, but I am still fiercely upset with you. I don't know that I can get over the ten-day thing, no matter how much I am tempted. It's just… God. Mack. Ten days?"

  He unfolded his arms, freeing them to grasp her bare shoulders with his hands. She felt like her skin was burning from his touch. "I'll help you on one condition." He slid his hands toward her neck.

  "What condition?" She could feel his thumbs making seductive little circles on the sides of her neck. This was way more than she could handle.

  "I want you to forgive me for doing my job." His face was earnest, and his mouth was in a grim line.

  "I wish I cou
ld. But I don't know if I can."

  "Why?" He tickled the side of her neck with his fingers, sending goosebumps down her arms.

  "I already told you."

  He moved closer, until his chest was just a deep breath away from touching hers. "Tell me again."

  Tell him what? She had no idea what he was talking about. All she could think about was how good he smelled, a very masculine scent of hard work and pine trees. Oh, yes. Tell him why she couldn't forgive him. Why indeed? It was so difficult to think when his lips were only about six inches from hers, and getting marginally closer with each passing minute. She had to pull herself together. "Because I have standards."

  "And I fall short, huh?" His thumb flicked her chin, then trailed along her collarbone.

  "You're trying to distract me."

  "Never. Is it working?"

  "Not at all. You have no power over me, even if you do know how to touch me exactly how I like it." Darn it. She'd said that out loud too, hadn't she? She cleared her throat, trying to ignore his soft touch caressing her upper arms now. "I believe the people you care about and love should come first, before work or anything else."

  "And I love you?"

  "You do?" Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.

  Mack raised an eyebrow, as if he wasn't sure of the answer to her question. But he didn't address it. "Since I hadn't even met you when I told Whittle to buy the property, how could I have put you first?"

  "But then you did meet me, and you not only went ahead with the sale of the property, but you got a ten-day closing. I wouldn't have done that to you."

  His hands stilled on her shoulders. "Are you sure?"

  She lifted her chin. "Yes."

  "I see." He didn't try to defend himself, simply dropping his hands and stepping back. "I guess that's it then. I'll go get the clothes I laid out for you."

  And he left her, dripping wet and wearing only a towel. She had been as tempting as was humanly possible for her, and he'd walked away without touching her.

  It was her fault. She hadn't believed in him. As hurt as she was by his willingness to secure the ten-day closing, she sensed that she'd just hurt him more. But how could she forgive him? And how could she not?