Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(45)

“And I have a bunch of boas left over that I’d love to donate. Can’t have a strut without boas,” Clovis said.

“Prance,” Peggy clarified. “Animals prance when they feel glamorous.”

Shay stood up. “The Prance for Paws Charity Pet Walk!”

“It’s perfect,” Harper said. “Every animal lover in town is going to turn out.”

“Especially if we sweeten the deal and offer a prize,” Emerson said. “People would totally turn out for pets and money.”

They would, Shay thought giddily. And all of her fosters would be right there, front and center, glammed out and looking adorable. Who better to adopt her babies than an animal lover? It was like she was creating an event that gave them the best shot of finding their families. So even if Shay was a day or two late on opening her shop, her dogs would be safe.

“You could do this every year,” Peggy said. “Since Bark in the Park has been moved, you can have your prance the third weekend in August.”

Shay thought of all of the other shelters and foster parents who lost out because of Shay and Estella’s spat. She could offer them a discounted entry rate so they too could showcase their pets.

“It’s perfect,” Clovis said.

Yeah, perfect, Shay thought, taking in the five women who had come to offer their support. Shay hadn’t called them, hadn’t asked for their help, yet they’d shown up anyway with Pita Peddler to-go bags, a case of wine, and something that Shay hadn’t had since her mom died—a sense of belonging.





The cat was driving him insane.

It was 6:09 in the morning, on Jonah’s one day to sleep in, and Kitty Fantastic had been staring at him for the past twenty minutes. So close Jonah could smell last night’s tuna on his hot breath.

To be fair, Kitty Fantastic always got his breakfast and meds at five forty-five, right before Jonah left for work, but today Jonah was on late shift and really wanted to sleep until noon. Kitty wasn’t having it.

He sat on Jonah’s chest, flicking his tail. At least he wasn’t on the bed or the pillow.

“Mew.”

Jonah opened his eyes. “You’ve got kibble.”

Kitty Fantastic wanted tuna.

“Sorry buddy, if I feed you wet food, you’re going to fill up the litter box.” Something Jonah wasn’t tolerating. He wanted to sleep a silent, smell-free slumber. “Go back to sleep.”

Kitty hopped off the bed, and Jonah, with a soul-deep sigh, closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet. His breathing slowed and he started to drift off.

Jingle. Jingle. Jingle.

Great, the cat had liberated the stick toy from the bottom of Jonah’s underwear drawer—which meant he’d probably liberated all of Jonah’s underwear in the process.

Unconcerned with any of that, since he wouldn’t be cleaning it up, Kitty Fantastic perched himself on Jonah’s stomach—and the stick on Jonah’s nuts. A furry paw darted out and tapped the feather, which was on Jonah’s face.

Jingle.

“Yeah, jingle, jingle.” He leaned up on his elbows, his eyes so gritty everything took a few minutes to focus. “Do we really need to bond before—”

Jingle jingle.

Kitty hunched down low, going as flat as a piece of plywood, his eyes big, tail flicking in anticipation.

“Right.” Jonah ran a hand over his face, then picked up the stick and wiggled it. The cat jumped back, arched up, and did a weird side-walk thing that made his hair look as though he had gone through the dryer without a fabric softener.

When he wasn’t stringing the toilet paper from the rafters or using the recliner as his own personal scratching post, the thing was kind of cute.

Jonah flicked the string again and the cat went apeshit crazy, darting back and forth across the bed, swiping his paw at the feather, then batting it dead. This went on for a good ten minutes until Kitty Fantastic lay on his side just watching the feather whiz by. With one last flick of the paw, his eyes finally slid closed.

Thank Christ. It actually worked. Jonah lay back down and, deciding to overlook the fact the cat was on his bed—two inches from his pillow—he too closed his eyes.

Then the cat started snoring.



Several hours later Jonah was back at work, trying to keep his mind on the problem at hand, which wasn’t easy due to the headache forming behind his right eye. Jonah jotted down detailed notes as Clovis explained the ongoing situation with Giles as though Jonah were a detective working a case when, in fact, he felt more like a receptionist.

He had no idea how he’d managed to get stuck on front desk duty and handling this case. Except, oh right, Warren was too busy running for sheriff to do his damn job.

“That man should be arrested in violation of penal code three fourteen.”

Jonah dropped his pen. “So you’re saying Giles exposed himself?”

“I would call wearing a man-hammock to show off his swizzle stick in a public pool all kind of indecent exposures. Wouldn’t you, Deputy?”

Jonah wanted to tell her that just hearing her complaint was violation enough. “Where did this happen?”

“At Valley Vintage’s pool.”

Jonah stopped scribbling and looked up. “And what were you doing there?” Because he knew every resident of the senior community, and Clovis wasn’t one of them. She lived downtown, a good five miles from the place of the supposed incident.