Moves Like Jagger (Wolf Mates Book 4) (5 page)

Jagger inserted the needle with but a small flinch from Leviticus, who’d curled his muzzle into her hand, moaning out a soft whimper.

Viv hadn’t even realized she’d set about grabbing the necessities to clean the dog’s wounds until she’d lined them up on the small countertop to Jagger’s left, when they’d first entered the van and as he’d settled Leviticus on the examining table.

After cleaning the wound while Viv stroked Leviticus’s ears and rubbed her nose against his, Jagger threaded a needle, smiling at her.

“You know your way around a place like this, huh?” He hitched his jaw at the antiseptic and cotton swabs.

Viv smiled back when the Schnauzer finally closed his eyes and relaxed with a soft sigh. “I do. I’ve spent many, many nights in emergency care with one stray or abused-slash-abandoned animal or another.”

And she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this very thing until tonight. The months since that bastard had run off with her family’s money had been spent trying to figure out how to survive, how to help her parents cope with losing everything they’d worked so hard for.

She hadn’t been involved in much rescue since that all began. But tonight reminded her of what she loved most was the connection she felt with any creature in need of a home, medical attention, love. That familiar twist of compassion in her heart left her feeling involved, as though she was making a small difference.

“So you rescued strays, you said. Tell me about that,” Jagger said with obvious interest, his hands gentle as he stitched up Leviticus.

She shrugged with a smile. “I’ve always been an animal lover. Even before I knew I was of the feline persuasion myself. I can’t stand when any animal is dumped or alone, hungry, abused. It literally tears my heart up into little pieces. So, as a former rich girl who couldn’t seem to settle on a profession, I got involved with a local catch-and-release program just by accident after finding a litter of kittens under the stairwell in the apartment building I used to own and manage, and it just fit, I guess.”

Jagger smiled that winning smile when he looked into her eyes, making her warm all over again. “Same here. Not the stairwell bit, but abandoned, injured animals. My mother could tell you some stories. Remember the first animal you rescued?”

She giggled, rubbing her chin on Leviticus’s head. “A skunk when I was thirteen. Oh God, it was dreadful. But he was limping along in an alleyway and at first, and like most of these stories go, I thought he was a cat. I couldn’t see him very well, but he took care of that. Sprayed me from head to toe.” Viv made a face and wrinkled her nose. “I brought that poor thing back to my parents’ house and put him in our cat Biddlesbottom’s cage and insisted my mom take me to the vet to patch him up. Got myself grounded for a week for being out so late and making everything I touched stink to high heaven, but from that point on, when I realized there were people who actually cared about the welfare animals as though they had rights to decency and compassion, too, I wanted to find out everything I could about saving as many as possible.”

“Ever thought about being a vet?”

Viv let her chin rest on her hand. “You know, I struggled with that for a long time. But I decided I’m not badass enough to have to hand down a death sentence—even out of necessity—to a beloved pet’s family. I just don’t have it in me. I’d end up sobbing in a puddle of tears when I’m supposed to be the one offering sympathy and answers. I’m an utter marshmallow. So I helped where I could by fostering, transporting, and did what I do best instead.”

He cocked an eyebrow, his eyes amused. “Which is?”

Viv grinned. “Charity fundraisers. Nobody can wring cash out of an old blueblood like this girl here. So what about you? Remember your first rescue?”

Jagger straightened, the bright lights inside the van making his chin-level dark hair glossy, but he was still smiling, probably at the memory. “A squirrel when I was ten. Abandoned by his mother. I found him half dead under a big oak tree back home. Scooped him up, named him R.L. Stine, nursed him back to health, never looked back. I knew from the second I successfully kept him alive with all those feedings and research on how to raise a squirrel it was what I wanted to do with my life.”

“A squirrel named after the author of the Goosebumps series. So you read, too? Okay, what horrible secret are you hiding?”

“Secret?” he asked as he finished the last stitch then pulled the gloves from his hands. He leaned against the table, cocking his head in question.

“You like animals, you’re funny, you’re compassionate, self-sufficient, you have a nice, well-kept house, a dog named Scar, and you read. It almost sounds too good to be true. So what’s the big secret you’re keeping? Do you collect Barbie heads or something?” she joked, sitting back on the stool to look up at him.

Jagger held up his big hands in a white-flag submission. “Ya caught me. But it’s not Barbie I’m into. It’s Skipper. You wanna come back to my place when we’re done here and I’ll show you my collection?”

“Are they in hermetically sealed glass cases to protect them from the elements?”

“Duh. Is there any other way?”

Laughter gurgled from her throat again. “I’m being serious.”

He pretended offense when he planted his hands on his lean hips. “Like I’m not?”

“So where’s home?”

“Alaska.”

“Wow. You’re a ways away from home.”

“I am. But I got a scholarship here in the northeast, went to school and nabbed an internship with a doctor in New York. Been in this part of the world since then.”

“Family?”

He smiled fondly, leaving her to believe he was also family oriented. “Only child, both parents still living.”

“Aha!” she yelped, stabbing a finger in the air. “An only child. Bet you were spoiled rotten. There’s the flaw I was looking for.”

“Aw, c’mon. Even you have to admit I’m a pretty good sharer. You don’t think those ketchup packages just appeared out of thin air, do you? As a single man, I spent years cultivating my assortment of fast food and takeout ketchup. It was vast and I was seriously attached. Yet, I gallantly threw that all away when I decided to make you a bouquet as a sign of the intent to mate. Kind of chivalrous, wouldn’t you say?”

Viv fanned herself and batted her eyelashes. “The intent to
mate
? You talk purty.”

Jagger chuckled, the deep sound filling the van. “You know what I mean.”

“Okay, so not spoiled. What’s the one thing you consider a flaw about yourself. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“I’m infamous for leaving the cap off the toothpaste. I always forget to unscrunch my socks before I put them in the laundry so they wash and dry properly. I’m the guy who puts back the carton of milk with only a drop left in it, and I snore.”

“You’re a heathen,” she said on a giggle.

He leaned in toward her and wiggled his eyebrows. “You don’t know the half of it. So now your flaws—go.”

Viv leaned in toward him, too, because he was so nice to look at up close. “I leave my wet towel on the bathroom floor more often than not. I hit the reset button on the dryer more times than I care to admit because I’m too lazy to fold my clothes, and I always put a roll of toilet paper on with the sheets under, not over. I’m inhumane, I know.”

“Who’s the heathen?” he teased. “So what you’re saying is, as a couple, we’ll always have partially dried socks and wet towels?”

“And toilet paper wars.”

Jagger rested his elbow on the edge of the examining table until their lips were mere inches apart. “It’ll never work, you know that, right?”

“It would be utterly impossible. You with your half-dried socks and soggy towels. Me with dried-up toothpaste and only a drop of milk. Despicable.”

Jagger winked, his eyes half-closed as he tilted his head and she tilted hers with a sigh, knowing in a half second their lips would meet, making her heart jump in her chest.

But a knock on the passenger-side window of the van forced them to jump apart in guilt.

“Dr. Dubrov? Is everything okay?” Mrs. Andersen called from outside the van.

Viv scrambled to the back door and slid it open, offering her hand to Mrs. Andersen and pulling her inside.

The moment she saw Leviticus, his hindquarter shaved and stitched, she began to cry, her blue eyes filled with grief.

Viv pulled the stool out for her in front of the table and led Mrs. Andersen to it. Squeezing the woman’s shaking shoulder, she comforted, “He’s fine now. I promise it looks worse than it is. He’ll be a bit sore for a few days, and have to wear a cone, but I swear he’ll heal up and be as good as new.”

Mrs. Andersen reached for Viv’s hand and clung to it as she glanced up at Jagger. “Who or
what
did this, Dr. Dubrov? Max has a strict rule about us hunting, but Levi was definitely bitten. I just thank God he somehow managed to make his way home!”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Andersen. I wish I could answer that for you. Yes, Levi was definitely bitten, but I don’t know by what, and I’m clinging to the hope it wasn’t someone here in town. There’s always the risk an animal that’s been run out of its home migrated here from another part of the state, too. So let’s keep that in mind before we jump to conclusions. Okay?”

Mrs. Andersen’s bottom lip quivered as she reached out and stroked Levi’s head with a pale hand. “I can’t thank you enough for coming to our rescue. Levi’s all I have and I can’t imagine…” She stopped, her voice hitching as she fought more tears.

Viv rushed in, sensing Jagger’s discomfort. “Well, you don’t have to. Levi’s going to be just fine. Now, let me help you get him inside where it’s warm and make you a cup of tea, maybe? Do you like tea? And then I’ll help you go over the instructions for caring for Levi’s wound. How does that sound?”

Mrs. Andersen nodded her graying head, allowing Viv to wrap a blanket around Levi and scoop him up to carry him back inside.

The thought of someone here in Cedar Glen purposely hunting the town pets made her stomach turn, but she did her best to keep that hidden from Mrs. Andersen as they made their way back inside her small cottage.

* * * *

The engine of Jagger’s van purred as they pulled into the small driveway of her cottage at almost midnight. Snow fell across the beams of the headlights in fat flakes and the deep purple of the sky grew swollen and heavy with clouds.

Once they’d settled Levi and Mrs. Andersen and Jagger had explained she needed to keep a close watch on Levi until they knew what was going on, the evening was all but gone.

She sighed at the glow of Christmas lights dotting the horizon behind her house, the landscape of Cedar Glen peaceful. Turning in her seat, she smiled at Jagger. “Thank you for letting me come along tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt very useful.”

He leaned over the arm of the van’s seat and grabbed her hand. “You were incredible with Mrs. Andersen tonight. She’s about as protective of Levi as she is about any of her children. You eased her fears. I’m the one who should be thanking
you
.”

As his thumb caressed the skin of her hand, she nodded. “All that gratitude makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”

Jagger nodded, the shake of his dark head sheepish “Makes me squirm like I dropped a packet of wet Pop Rocks in my pants. If you want to know what my biggest flaw is, aside from the toothpaste cap, that’s it. I just could never quite get used to it. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the good words, but I’m only doing what I was taught.”

Ah. He was humble, too. A shiver slithered along her spine. So sexy.

“But you don’t do something like become a veterinarian in order to collect a paycheck. Who’d choose to see so much suffering for some cash? You can’t teach someone to care about an animal the way you do, Jagger. It’s pretty evident in the way you dealt with Levi. That’s called compassion, sympathy. Of which you have much. I find myself a little impressed.”

He didn’t acknowledge her praise, instead he said, “Speaking of compassion, you’re really good with people, Viv. Good at dealing with the aspects of my work where I falter. So I have a question. One might consider it rash at this early stage of the mating game, but I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

She tilted her head but remained silent.

“Come work for me. I can’t pay you much, but I bet it’s a better salary than you’d collect at the bar, working for Derrick. I went into this alone, thinking somewhere down the line I’d find an assistant, and I think I’ve found her.”

Viv was flabbergasted, yet tingly all over. “But I have no technical training. Sure, I know some things just from watching, but I can’t diagnose anything or dole out medicine. I’m just a sympathetic ear who loves animals.”

He chuckled. “I’m not asking you to assist in brain surgery or dispense doggy valium. I just need someone who’s good with people and animals to help me hold down the fort; make some rescues like with the catch-and-release program. Help me so I don’t end up prepping some poor shifter for a spaying like I did you.”

Excitement bubbled deep in the pit of her belly. “But don’t I have to have some sort of certification or something? Am I breaking a law?”

“Because the
werewolves
are going to call the cops?”

Now she laughed, too, her cheeks hot. “Point.”

“No. You’re not breaking any laws. You could always look into schooling as a vet tech, but for the time being, I just need someone to help field calls, soothe patients, be the calm in the middle of the storm.”

She gave him a skeptical glance. “There’s a catch here, isn’t there? Are you going to pay me in ketchup packets? Because a girl needs to bring home the bacon in a can with six mouths to feed.”

“I was thinking Skipper heads, but if it’s ketchup you want…”

Her head fell back on her shoulders as she laughed again. “Sold!”

“Good enough. So I’d ask you to invite me in, but we have an early wake-up tomorrow. I have to head out to Hector’s. He’s convinced one of his rabbits is under the weather. Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Absolutely.”

“Perfect. So I totally think we should seal the deal with a kiss.”