Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(27)
Getting involved with Jonah was out of the question, but she’d be damned if he was the one who got to point out how ridiculous the notion was. Even if the mere thought of his mouth on hers was enough to steal her breath and send her nipples into party mode—not good since she was in one of those sports bra tops that hid nothing.
Shay was reconsidering her plan, thinking of starting with that particular grievance, when she heard a loud crash of metal cans, followed by aggressive barking. A silver ball of fur shot out from the alley beside a vacant storefront, cutting Shay off midstride. Its miniature legs pumped so hard they barely touched asphalt as it darted into the street, narrowly avoiding a kissing contest with a speeding wine truck before disappearing into an abandoned lot.
Heart in her throat, Shay took off after the kitten, bypassing the sheriff’s department—Jonah and his superhero complex would have to wait—and turning toward the lot instead. She kept her eyes locked on the gray tail as it zipped under a chain-link fence, its back paw getting caught in the metal momentarily, before cutting through the overgrown brush and right up a big oak that sat at the back of the lot.
The tree was a million years old with enough gnarled branches and crannies to make the perfect hiding spot. It was also surrounded by a chain-link fence and three very visible NO TRESPASSING signs—neither of which would deter Shay.
It had been hot and dry since last week’s storm, she told herself as she crawled through a hole someone had cut in the bottom of the chain links, and for a kitten as young as she suspected this one was, an abandoned construction site was not the ideal home. Not to mention she still wasn’t sure how much damage the fence had done—the kitten had ripped through it so fast she was afraid it had left marks.
Shay brushed the debris off her knees and hands and slowly approached the tree, giving the kitten a good minute to calm down. It took Shay another two to catch her breath, important since the gasping wasn’t helping with her everybody calm down agenda.
“I really need to lose the doughnuts,” she panted, her hand on her side as she cautiously approached the tree.
Two wide eyes, so dilated they appeared solid black, peeked out from behind the first row of branches. Ears curled under, tail reminiscent of a duster, the kitten crouched low and gave a throaty growl—the sound about as threatening as a sneeze. Still, Shay took caution, more for the kitten than herself. The last thing she needed was to send it scurrying its furry gray butt to the top of the tree. Because then she’d have to play the retriever, and Shay hated heights more than she hated running.
“Aren’t you an adorable ball of cute?” she cooed when she had maneuvered close enough to touch the bottom limb and see that the feline had ridiculously short legs. The big blue eyes only added to its adorable factor.
As though offended by Shay’s choice in description, the kitten fluffed itself out even more and this time gave a hiss—also adorable and clearly a sign that it wasn’t having any of her sweet talk. Which led Shay to believe he was male. That his fur was matted and she could see his little ribs poking through told her he was the missing kitten from her litter.
A litter Shay had vowed to help.
“That dog sounded scary,” she said conversationally. “But I bet he was just as scared to see you in his garbage can as you were to see him.” At the gentle tone in her voice the cat relaxed a little, and Shay slowly lifted her hand to rest it on the branch—as far away from him as possible. When he didn’t move, other than to lower his body to the limb, she moved slightly closer.
After a moment of conversational speculation, on Shay’s part, over how big the dog must have been to send a tough kitty like him running—always good to boost a man’s self-esteem—she moved her hand even closer. Which was apparently one inch too close, because the kitten gave a nasty one-two swat to Shay’s arm, his needle nails doing some minor damage, and took off up the tree, all the way up the freaking tree, where he tightroped out to the end of a skinny branch and resumed his puffed-out pose.
“Shame on you, Kitty Fantastic,” she said in a reprimanding tone. Kitty Fantastic just peeled back his lips and showed her his teeth. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
Obviously Kitty Fantastic was not okay, and no, he was not about to come down and let Shay give him a quick once-over. She released the bravest breath she could muster and started looking for the easiest way up.
Extremely aware of the woman outside his window, Jonah tried to focus on his paperwork, telling himself he was not going to check on her again. Not to figure out what she was doing trespassing on an abandoned construction site within eyesight of half the town’s law enforcement, nor to see if she had finally gotten smart and gone home.
Only, damn it, he looked. He couldn’t help it. She’d been driving him crazy since he saw her tearing up Main Street about thirty minutes ago, huffing and a-puffing and dripping with pissed-off female. He’d been certain she was coming to chew his ass out. Not that he’d blame her.
Deputy Jonah had delivered a pretty shitty ultimatum the other day—part of his job, he reminded himself. But at some point he’d been off duty and instead of going over to check if Shay was okay or if she needed any help, Neighbor Jonah—who couldn’t get the taste of her out of his mind—acted like a * and hid in his house.
Only she didn’t come inside the station, didn’t even report Jonah to the sheriff for allowing a report that should have been for department-eyes only to somehow wind up on Facebook. Nope, Shay, confusing as always, had perched herself outside his window, where, if he pressed his face to the glass and stretched up on his toes, he could clearly see she was chilled—or revved up. The sun had begun to set, so if a breeze had come in off the ocean, it would explain her condition. The EVERY LIFE COUNTS tank top she wore, sweaty and thin and clinging to her body as if a second skin, wouldn’t help much.