A Little Christmas Jingle (16 page)

The corners of his lips twitched. “Sounds so appealing … Unless you're planning some gobbling yourself.”

She flushed with giddy heat and checked the automatic “Maybe later.” She had to be professional. Instead she said, “I know this is difficult for you.” She gestured around. “But just wait and see. I'll think you'll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Which is why I'm here.” She waited. “And for you,” he added with the hint of a smile. “How's Jingle doing? I've missed him.”

“He's turned a corner. Jeff Andrews called to see when he'll be ready for adoption, but we're months away, so he's staying put. However, he convinced me to show him to the media next week. He said we need to keep his progress in the news.”

“Definitely.”

A volunteer poked her head in. “Kat, we have another adopter who'd like a cat.”

“Coming. Can you show Jack where the calendar table is?”

“Sure.”

“That's your cue.”

Jack followed a woman he didn't recognize out to a small folding table that had been staged with two black Sharpie markers and huge stacks of calendars. Immediately a small queue formed, and as the volunteer assisted, Jack lost sight of Kat. He had a pretty steady flow of traffic, and two hours later his hand hurt. He'd easily signed more than two hundred calendars.

“Cookie?”

He recognized that voice. Knew it well. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

She held out a green platter with an assortment of edibles. “Surprise! We came to support Kat. Figured she might need some sustenance. Also Sharon and Matt are here for a dog. Surely you remember? Or weren't you paying attention Sunday when they were discussing that they might adopt a pet?”

Jack leaned around to see his nephew Matthew jumping up and down. The entire family had shown up for pot roast, making the table crowded. He thought back, reviewing the conversation like replaying a movie. “Oh yeah.” His attention had been elsewhere. His leg had been pressed next to Kat's, and he'd been close enough to have a view down her shirt, which had caused him to relive how he'd rolled his tongue over her breasts and …

“Earth to Jack.” His mom waved a hand in front of his face. “I'm also here because I need ten calendars and you still haven't brought them by the house.”

That had been a deliberate oversight on his part. She set the cookies down and began to count on her fingers. “It's not everyday your son is a local hero. There's my three sisters, my friends Betty, Pam, Lisa … better give me eleven to be safe. I have a list somewhere. Might need more.”

Lovely
.
Now everyone would be staring at him half naked next Christmas.

She rummaged through her Mary Poppins purse for the list, and Jack uncapped the Sharpie marker. Sharon and Matthew left to find a full-grown dog. He couldn't see his staid brother dealing with house training a puppy.

He signed all his mother's calendars, and then much to his relief, she went off to help pick out the dog. There were five calendars left, and those sold quickly. He was done. He stretched out his legs and leaned back in the plastic chair.

His watch read noon. Kat's event would run for another four hours, but she'd told him he didn't need to stay. He surveyed the scene. People with and without pets posed with Santa. A jar marked “For Jingle” contained loose change and bills—he could see at least one twenty and several fives. Under the tree, people placed unwrapped pet items to be donated to shelter pets. All around workers had clipboards with adoption applications. It was like being at an auction—you couldn't help but want to buy something and take it home.

Into this fray entered two men. Jack recognized one from his research. Fred Fennewald. Head of the neighborhood association. The other had his phone out, recording. Jack rose to his feet, went to greet both. “Fred,” Jack held out his hand. “Detective Jack Donovan. Nice to meet you.”

Fred's hand was a limp fish as the men shook. “You're that detective. You're the one who dismissed my complaint.”

“Yes,” Jack said amiably, giving Fred's hand a firm squeeze before he let go. “Here to adopt a pet?”

“I have three Shih Tzus.”

“Then a photo with Santa?” Jack offered, pointing toward the tree.

“No,” Fred replied testily. “Are you here to shut her down? Shouldn't you be?”

“That's zoning,” Jack replied. “I deal with abuse cases. I told you that when we spoke.”

“She has dogs standing in filth.”

“Not that I've seen and I've been here almost every day.”

“They bark all night. Disturb the neighborhood.”

“You have a zoning issue,” Jack said. “There is no evidence of abuse here.”

“Not now. You're probably in cahoots.”

“Fred.” Kat approached, frown etching her face. Behind her was Jack's family, a raven-colored poodle in Matthew's arms.

“Public events aren't allowed by the covenants,” Fred said forcefully. He seemed agitated. “People are parked on the street as your lot isn't big enough.”

“There is nothing illegal about parking on the street,” Kat said.

“I have trouble driving down it. What if someone hits my car? This was a quiet neighborhood. Now there are dogs barking and … I have what I need. We'll be going.”

The moment he and his friend shuffled out the door, Jack could see Kat deflating, the highs of her success replaced with Fred's low blow. So Jack said, “A poodle?”

In response, the dog in Matthew's arms barked. “Look Uncle Jack. I got a dog. Not one of those little ones either.” He beamed from ear to ear.

“Please tell me you aren't going to put bows in its hair,” Jack teased.

“He's a boy,” Matthew announced. “Boy dogs don't have bows. Isn't he awesome?”

“Poodles are very loyal and don't shed much,” Kat inserted the dog's merits before Jack could reply. “They are very smart and family oriented.”

“And not that big,” Sharon added.

“He's perfect,” Matthew announced. “He's my Christmas present. I'm going to go tell Santa I have the one thing I really wanted.”

“I'll take you over there,” Joyce said, leading her grandson away. “We can take a picture.” Matt's gaze trailed after them, before returning to Jack and Kat.

“So what was Fennewald doing here?” Jack's brother asked.

“Causing trouble,” Kat said. Jack grabbed her hand for support. “But I wasn't going to cancel this event, even if Fred decides to sue me for this too. We've placed over half the animals. If they do shut me down, where would they have gone?”

“Well, we are quite pleased with our dog,” Sharon said, changing the subject. “He's two and already trained. What could be better? Let's go finish the paperwork. Matthew, that's a cute picture,” Sharon called, heading toward Santa.

“Good luck,” Matt said. “The guy with him is Kevin Banner. He's an ambulance chaser. Gives my profession a bad name.” He followed his wife.

“You okay?” Jack asked Kat.

She sagged against him. “I'll just be glad when the case is over. One way or the other, at least I'll have some closure. Until then, there's nothing anyone can do, so let's get these animals into some good homes. You staying?”

Jack had at least twenty things he needed to do, things he hadn't managed to get done all week, like getting the oil in his car changed, getting his laundry done, getting his house cleaned. But only Kat mattered. Because they were at her workplace, he resisted the urge to kiss even her forehead, as he longed to do. “I'm staying.”

His decision made those beautiful brown eyes brighten, and she perked up. He'd made her happy, and he liked that. Kat handed him a clipboard and an elf hat.

“That lovely couple right there has picked out brother and sister cats. We'd hoped to place them together and we have.” She smiled at him and touched his arm, all the motivation he needed as it hinted at the promise of things to come. “I'll let you help them with their adoption paperwork.”

He stared at the elf hat and the clipboard as she slipped away, recognizing the dare. He'd meet Kat's challenge, so he channeled his inner Will Ferrell, slid the green and yellow elf hat on his head, and waded in to help. He saw Kat only in passing the rest of the afternoon. The cookies his mom brought were long gone, as was most of the other food. He'd managed to snag three candy canes. His stomach rumbled as Kat finally locked the back door after the last of her employees left at five fifteen.

“What a day,” she said. She wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. “All but three. That's a new record.”

“You had great publicity with Jingle being here.”

“And you. Two hundred ten calendars. I didn't get enough.”

He couldn't imagine signing more. “My mother ended up buying twelve. I was lucky there weren't more people on her list.”

Kat began to laugh and covered her mouth. “Your mom is a hoot. You'll be everywhere, Mr. December.”

“Don't you make fun of me,” Jack said, grabbing her wrist and tugging her toward him. “It's not nice.”

She flipped the pom-pom on his hat. “You deserved it. You didn't believe me about today.”

“Maybe,” he answered. “You did great. I stand corrected.”

Her eyes twinkled and amusement edged the corners of her lips. “Say it.”

“What? That you were an animal matchmaker?”

“You know what I want to hear. Say it.”

He pulled her to him, her hands splaying against his chest. “What? You want to hear me grovel and say I was wrong?”

“You were, so yes, I do.”

Jack didn't fully concede. “The jury's still out. As long as none of those animals come back.”

“They won't,” Kat declared.

Jack reached down to trace the blue stitching of her name. Her breath hitched.

“If they don't, then I will happily admit I was wrong. As it was, you talked my straightlaced, uptight brother into a full-size poodle. That's something I thought I'd never see. Matt with a dog.”

“Fine. Close enough.”

His fingers were at the top of her breast, mere inches from her nipple. Despite the lab coat and the clothes she wore underneath, heat pooled between her legs.

“Why is the writing always blue?”

“I don't know.”

“Katherine with a K.” His voice dropped and he outlined the first letter again.

“My grandmother's name. I shortened it to Kat one day because I couldn't spell it all. I was four.”

“Precocious.”

He finger rubbed over the letters and she toyed with a button on his shirt. “You're just jealous Jack isn't short for anything.”

“Ha. Is to. Jackson. Jackson Howard.”

She giggled. “Howard.”

“Don't mock my grandpa. He's a great guy.”

She popped open the button. “I'm not. I'm making fun of you.”

“That's not nice. You know, you're not being very nice to me. You made me wear this hat.”

“It looked sexy in the calendar.”

“That was a Santa hat.”

“Close enough.” Her breath hitched. “And now you're toying with me.”

He tugged her closer to him so that her hands flattened between them. “You're the tease. Not me.”

“Me?” Kat parroted innocently. “How?”

“Just, just everything. You are driving me absolutely crazy.”

She leaned her head back, brought her face upward. “So? What are you going to do about it?”

“This,” Jack replied, and swallowed her next words with a kiss that left her knees wobbly. His tongue found crevices in her mouth that she didn't know could emit such pleasure. She dragged her teeth along his tongue, and he groaned. “You are so tempting.”

“Really?” Her mouth kissed the edge of his.

He stepped back. “If we don't get out of here, this will get out of hand. Dinner.”

Reluctantly, Kat agreed. Before her employees had left, all the animals had been fed and taken care of, including Jingle. She could leave work, go to dinner. “I need my purse. It's in my office.”

He entered her office. She bent down to retrieve her purse from the locked drawer but Jack was right behind her, and he put his hands on her bottom and then slid them around to pull her back toward his groin.

“You are so sexy,” he told her. Rather than straighten, Kat parted her legs so his hands could slide between. She and Jack had been building to this moment, and she wanted it. She wanted sparks. Wanted heat. He ground her into him and she gasped as his left hand came up to pull out her shirt and move underneath to cup her breast. “So damn hot,” Jack said. He lowered his lips to her neck.

Kat's brain short-circuited. No way could she go eat dinner in this aroused state. Her breast felt heavy in his left hand and his right hand moved between her legs, the black chinos a barrier to full friction.

“Jack.”

He drew back. “I know. Not romantic. I'm taking you to dinner now. I'm sorry …”

“I'm not.” She faced him, grabbed his shirt, pushed him back toward the couch. The back of his knees connected with it, and he sat. She straddled him, brought her mouth close to his. She'd never been this brazen before, but she wanted him. “I know you're a decent, upright guy who always does the right thing. Now shut up and kiss me.”

He obliged, capturing her lips and sliding his tongue deep. His fingers found the buttons of her shirt, and soon it and the lab coat were on the floor. She wore red lace, and Jack peeled it low, exposing her breasts. He captured one and swirled his tongue over it, making Kat cry out in pleasure.

“Sensitive.”

“Oh yes,” she said, kissing his neck and inhaling the musky scent so uniquely him.

“Good?” He moved to the other breast.

“Hell yes,” Kat moaned as her body quaked. “Don't you dare stop.”