Winter's Wonder: Pine Point, Book 2 (8 page)

Chapter Sixteen

To her surprise and delight, most of Saturday passed uneventfully for Becca. Two potential adopters came in to fill out applications, and a Boy Scout troop from Silver Valley spent the morning walking dogs. They brought a reporter from the local paper, who spent a few minutes looking nervously around Becca’s office as she asked questions.

“And how long have you been here?”

“As manager? A little less than a month. I’ve managed the books for a couple of years though, and I’ve been a volunteer for as long as I can remember.”

The middle-aged woman’s eyes widened behind wire-framed glasses. “Goodness. I don’t know how you do it.” One of the office cats nosed its way along her calf. She looked down as if she wasn’t sure whether to pet it or run away.

Becca lifted her palms. Papers littered her desk. A shepherd mix, new to the shelter as of this week, slept at her feet. The space heater whirred, cats meowed from the other room and her head and arms ached. “You just do.”

The woman looked up as she added a decisive period to whatever she was writing. “You know that story
The Little Prince
? About the boy prince that meets a fox?”

Becca frowned. “I think maybe I read it. A long time ago.”

“I never forgot that one line, something about always being responsible for the things you tame.” She looked around again and tapped the end of her pencil on her chin. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to see if I can come back after New Year’s and do a feature story on this place. Looks like you operate on a shoestring budget—no offense,” she added.

“None taken. It’s true.”

“But from what I’ve seen, these animals look happy and well cared for.” She tucked away her things. “I didn’t even know you were here, and I’ve lived in Pine Point my whole life. Maybe if we do a story on you, you’ll get some donations. Volunteers. Whatever you need.”

We need everything,
Becca almost said. Instead, she just smiled. “Thank you. That would be wonderful.”

She hummed her way through the rest of the day, half her thoughts on the shelter and the rest on the outfit she’d bought to wear to the Christmas party. It wasn’t red, and it wasn’t slit all the way up or down anywhere, but she still hoped it would drive Zane crazy.
This time I’m not leaving, no matter who calls me
. They hadn’t had a single moment alone in his place or hers to do more than kiss or run their hands feverishly along each other’s bodies, and she was damn near bursting at the seams.

Then Janet walked into her office at ten minutes to three, face somber as stone.

Becca sat on the fraying couch, a tubby orange cat in her lap. “Oh, no. What is it?”

Janet clutched her cell phone in one hand and chewed the inside of her cheek. “It’s not good.”

For a moment, Becca wanted to press both hands to her ears.
I don’t want to hear. Whatever you have to say, just keep it until tomorrow
. Instead, she transferred the sleepy cat to the couch and brushed her palms on her jeans. “Tell me.”

“You know Helen Kramer.”

“Of course.” She’d been out to the woman’s house a couple of times last year.

“She passed away last night.”

“Oh, shit. That’s terrible. How? She wasn’t that old.”

“I just got off the phone with her son. They’re not sure, exactly. He had the neighbors go over there this morning when he couldn’t reach her. They found her in bed. They think maybe a stroke or a heart attack.”

Becca pressed her lips together. “And the cats?”

Janet continued to chew her cheek. “They’re all still there, from what the neighbor says.”

“Does anyone know for sure?”

“How many did she have?”

“Twenty-one. Always twenty-one, remember? It was the number of years she’d been married to her husband before he passed.”

“Oh. Right.”

Kooky and solitary, Helen Kramer had adopted cats from Pine Point Paws a few times over the years, replenishing her brood as they died. Becca and Chrissy and the managers before them had long since given up trying to convince her to stop. Instead, they’d scheduled home visits every few months to check on them and make sure Helen was managing all right.

“Where the hell are we going to put twenty-one cats?” Janet asked.

“Did her son say he wouldn’t take them?”

“He didn’t sound happy with the situation,” Janet added.

“Well, his mother just died. I can’t blame him.”

“No, I mean…he didn’t sound like he knew she had that many cats.”

Becca stood. “I thought everyone in town knew.”

“He doesn’t live here. I think he’s down outside of Albany. He said he’s coming up later today to take care of things.”

“Meaning we should probably get those animals out of there as soon as possible.”

Janet nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Okay.” Becca looked around. “Well, hopefully they can stay in the house for now. Call him back and tell him we’ll have someone go over and take care of food and water and litter boxes, at least until after Christmas.” Lord knew, she didn’t want to move that many cats from the only place they’d called home. Animals were funny when it came to change, especially felines. Sometimes they did all right. More often, they retreated, grew despondent and stopped eating. She knuckled her fingers against her forehead. “And maybe tomorrow we can start setting up cages in the back bathroom so we can bring them in on the twenty-sixth.” She hadn’t planned on working full days either the day before or after the holiday, but it didn’t look like she had much choice.

“Okay. I know Julito’s visiting his parents today. I’ll see if Kevin’s around.”

“I’m going to a party tonight,” Becca said with a glance outside. Snow had started falling again, thick white flakes that coated every surface in minutes. “Over in Silver Valley. I’ll have my phone, but I hope you and the guys can handle things. I’ll come in first thing tomorrow.”

“You going with Zane?”

“Yes.”

Janet grinned. “Good for you. That guy’s a stud with a capital S. We’ll be fine. I’ll talk to Helen’s son and get things squared away. You go have fun. Don’t think twice about this place.”

“Thanks.” And for a few hours, Becca foolishly thought that might actually be possible.

At precisely quarter to seven, Zane pulled open his front door. “Sorry you had to—”
pick me up here instead
, he meant to say, but the words died in his throat when he saw Becca.

“Damn, doll,” was all he managed before he swept her inside and laid a kiss on that mouth he’d been thinking about all afternoon. He skimmed his hands down her curves before settling them on her hips. “What the hell do you have on?” he said when he finally stopped kissing her long enough to take a closer look.

She took a step back and shrugged off her long red coat. Underneath, she wore a pair of black leather pants and a tight-fitting shirt with a zipper up the front. The zipper ended just above her breasts, where creamy pink skin took over. He reached out and touched her necklace. “Very nice.”

She cocked a brow. “Not a dress.”

“Do I look like I care?” He tugged at the zipper. “May I?”

She closed her hand over his. “And unwrap the package before Christmas? That would make you a very naughty boy.” She let his hand go and ran her fingers over his cheek. “Santa doesn’t like naughty boys.”

He let go of her zipper but took his time running both hands down her sides, settling them on her ass this time. “I stopped believing in Santa in the third grade.” He nuzzled her neck. “I think the better question is what does Becca Ericksen like?”

“Oh, I think you know.” She laughed under his touch, and he tightened his grip.
Never want to let you go
. She tasted like soap and fresh air, and he ran his tongue along her neck, nibbling in a few places until he felt her tremble in his arms.

“Zane.”

He lifted his head. “What is it?”

But she only shook her head and fastened those bright blue eyes on his. “You make me all unsteady.”

He smiled. “You show up here in an outfit like this, and unsteady is only the first of many things I’m going to make you feel.” Before she could say another word, he lifted her into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Jesus Christ
. He hadn’t even noticed the sleek leather boots that rose to her knees. Where had Becca the shelter manager gone? This woman in his arms oozed sensuality head to toe. If he had anything to say about it, those boots would end up on his bedroom floor later on, the pants and zippered top alongside them.

She clutched his neck and ran her thumbs along his skin and through his hair, turning him hard as stone. It took only a handful of steps before they reached the kitchen and he could set her on the counter, legs spread. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her again. His tongue teased and then retreated, while he finally got ahold of that damn zipper and eased it down.

No bra underneath. Zane pressed closer to settle himself inside Becca’s hips, needing her to feel how incredibly hard she’d made him. She murmured against his ear. Slowly, he eased his thumbs inside and ran them over her nipples. So hard. So tight. He forced himself to take his time, building tension, letting her rock against him first, loving the sounds she made and the way her breath sped up. Her hands went to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and he loved the gentle pain it created. He lowered his mouth to one breast, taking his time to add his tongue to his hands. God, she tasted good. He nibbled and slid one hand to the vee between her legs. He stroked softly, wanting to make her come, wanting to feel her collapse against him and know he’d brought her there, fully clothed and with nothing more than his mouth and fingers.

It took less than a minute.

“Oh. God. I’m—” The words went away, and for a moment, it was simply her moving against him. He closed his eyes and savored the sensation.

“My God,” she said a moment later.

He opened his eyes.

“You’re—” she shook her head, “—incredible.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. “Feel good?”

“I feel amazing.”

He tugged the zipper down a little farther. “Want to skip the party?”

She put her cheek to his. “I do.” Her breath whispered across his skin. “But I spent a lot of time getting all sexied up so I could go out with you and show the world I own more than sweatshirts and jeans.” She sat back and ran one forefinger over his bottom lip. “How about an hour or two? I never go anywhere. A Christmas party in Silver Valley is like the Oscars or a gala ball or something.”

He smiled. She could have suggested they drive five hours to New York City and climb to the top of the Empire State Building, and he probably wouldn’t have argued.
She’s getting under your skin
, a voice inside him warned.
She’s taming you
. He knew that voice. It showed up whenever he let his guard down, which hadn’t happened in a while.

But tonight, he didn’t care. He had a damn firecracker practically sitting in his lap, hair mussed and cheeks flushed, and he’d done that. He’d brought her over the edge. In any other world, Becca Ericksen would have been out of his league. Smart and focused, she lived her life devoted to a cause that would never give back half of what she gave to it. People like Becca changed the world, saved it and made it better, while people like Zane messed it up with mistakes.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said suddenly.

She leaned back, palms on the counter. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

Reluctantly, he eased her zipper back up and moved her hair behind her shoulders. One last chaste kiss on her cheek, nothing more, or he’d never be able to leave this trailer. As it was, he was counting the hours until they retuned. He glanced down at the bulge in his pants that was going to take the entire ride over the mountain to settle down again. Then he touched the space above his heart. To his surprise, he wasn’t sure which she had a stronger effect on.

“It’s a good thing, doll. A very good thing.”

Chapter Seventeen

They pulled up the circular drive of Villa Venezia where a valet whisked Becca’s car away. Zane took Becca’s hand and they hurried through the snow and into a foyer so large everything echoed.

“Wow.” Becca looked up at a ceiling hung with twinkling white lights. An enormous Christmas tree decorated with blue and silver globes stood in one corner, while a string quartet played in the other. People filled the ballroom straight ahead. Wait staff circled with trays of appetizers—to Becca’s relief, because she’d realized about halfway here that she was starving.

Coming on the kitchen counter can do that to you.

Her cheeks flushed as they walked through the crowd. Zane wore a dark suit, a black button-down shirt and a tie with some kind of crazy Christmas pattern on it. The entire look combined in a mass of raw sexuality the way it always did with him, but all she could look at were his hands and his lips and recall what he’d done with them less than an hour ago.
Forget what I said earlier
, she almost said.
Let’s go back to your place and finish what we started.
She wanted to be naked in bed with that man again as soon as possible.

Becca took a bacon-wrapped scallop to give herself something to do other than drool over her date.

“Champagne?” he asked, taking two glasses from rows sitting on a damask-covered table along the wall.

She nodded. She supposed one glass wouldn’t hurt. Zane had said something about his truck being in the shop, which was how she’d ended up driving, but she didn’t mind. The bubbly liquor tickled her nose and added to everything else making her smile—the man, the party, the way things inside her melted when she dared to think about where the night might go.

Becca recognized a few faces, but most of the guests seemed middle-aged, if not significantly older. She found a corner to stand in while Zane greeted a group of men by the bar. He laughed, shook hands, ran his fingers through his hair and mussed it up. Becca took another scallop, then two skewers of sesame steak. More guests arrived, and the band started to play doo-wop from the fifties and sixties. Becca tapped the toe of her boot. The next time she looked at the bar, two women had sidled up to Zane, one blonde and one red-haired—both gray underneath, Becca guessed—and it wasn’t hard to read their body language and surmise that they knew Zane—probably from Mountain Glen—and they wouldn’t mind knowing him a lot better. Preferably naked. And preferably in their beds while their husbands were at work.

But just as Becca was finishing her champagne and wondering if it was worth it to work up a jealous snit, Zane slipped from their manicured clutches and rejoined her.

“What’s a woman like you doing all alone tonight?” he said with a wink. He bent down and ran his lips along her neck.

“Hoping you’d walk across the room and ask me that,” she answered.

His arm went around her waist, tight and possessive, and he settled his palm onto the curve of her ass. All her nerve endings went hot. “Want to dance?” he murmured into her ear.

She managed to nod, hoping she wouldn’t find herself in the throes of another orgasm on the dance floor. In the next second, she thought she wouldn’t mind another orgasm in the least.

“Run-Around Sue” changed into “Unchained Melody”, and Zane took her in his arms. Becca closed her eyes. His muscles tightened under her touch, and as they turned in a slow circle, she could feel him against her, rising with every movement, turning her wet. He ran his hands up and down her back, tousling her loose hair, until she felt as though every inch of her was spinning out of control.

If a single dance can do this to me, I’m done for when he gets me into bed.

The song ended much too soon, and she loosened her arms around his neck. “How much longer do we have to stay here?”

He gave her a teasing smile. “How about until after dinner? We can skip dessert.”

Becca nodded, trying to keep the words, “You can be my dessert,” from coming out and making her sound like an idiot extraordinaire.

One of the women from the bar waved them over. “Join us,” she said too brightly. She gave Becca a dismissive glance and patted the chair beside her. “We have room.” She wiggled and shook out Zane’s napkin, making a show of smoothing it in his lap. The woman’s husband, deep in conversation with the man beside him, barely looked over.

Another round of champagne arrived, followed by glasses of wine for the women and beers for the men. Becca pushed hers aside.

“Not a drinker?” the blonde asked. Her slender fingers caressed the stem of her wine glass. The question seemed to be directed at Becca, but the woman’s eyes hadn’t left Zane’s mouth.

“I’m driving tonight,” Becca said. She helped herself to water and a piece of bread.

“Oh. Of course.” The blonde giggled and mouthed something to her friend across the table. “
So
glad we hired a limo for the night. These parties always end up going late.”

But Becca was more interested in the food than the liquor or how late the party might go. She and Zane wouldn’t be staying much past the entrées. Salads arrived, then choices of chicken, steak or salmon. Conversation at the table swirled between stocks, a legal case and a spa that was opening up downtown.

Only once did the redhead turn to Becca and ask a question. “Do you work? Or…” she trailed off, as if she couldn’t think what the other options might be.

“I’m the temporary manager at Pine Point Paws animal shelter,” Becca answered between mouthfuls of chicken.

“Oh.” The woman nodded. “Well. That seems like a very selfless job.”

“Thankless too, if you ask me,” the blonde interjected.

Zane closed his hand over Becca’s. “She’s amazing. You should see her in action.”

The blonde’s gaze moved over Becca in a flash. “Really?” She turned back to her third glass of wine and the salmon she’d picked a few forkfuls out of. “My son wanted a
Labradoodle
for his birthday last year. We had to go all the way to
Indiana
to find a breeder.” She tsk-tsked as if Becca was personally to blame for the inconvenience.

That type of dog is more inbred than any other. And do you know how most breeders treat their animals?
Becca pressed her lips together to keep the words from spilling out. Fortunately, her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket, but too late to catch the call.

Janet, Vet Tech
, read the screen.

Damn. Becca’s fingers grew slick as she waited for a voicemail.

Zane leaned over. “Everything okay?”

“I’m sure it is,” she lied. Janet wouldn’t be calling her, not in the middle of this party, unless something was very much not okay.

He reached under the table and squeezed her thigh. Then he finished his beer and signaled the waiter for another.

Janet didn’t leave a voicemail. A moment later, she called again. This time, Becca punched the answer button and jerked to stand, almost taking the tablecloth with her. “What’s wrong?” For a few seconds, all she could hear were faint voices in the background. Then a car engine. “Janet?”

“Bec? Can you hear me?”

She backed away from the table. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I didn’t want to call you. I don’t—we’ve got things under control. I hope.”

Becca found her way out of the ballroom and down an empty hall. “Tell me what’s happening,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Helen Kramer’s son got to the house a couple of hours ago. According to one of the neighbors, as soon as he opened the front door, he threw all the cats outside.”

“
What
?” Becca reached for a wall to steady herself.

“Propped open the front and back doors, left them wide open and went through the house until all the cats were out. Neighbor said he was ranting about the smell, how he’d never sell the house, other crazy stuff.”

“He threw them into the cold? And the snow?”

“I’m here right now, and Julito and Kevin too. We’ve been—” Janet went away from the phone and said something Becca couldn’t make out. “We’ve got a lot of them. I think most of them. It’s a good thing you told me earlier there were twenty-one so we could keep track. They didn’t go too far, mostly under the porch and around by the shed.”

Becca splayed her hand against the wall. Through a window, she could see the snow coming down harder than ever.
What kind of person throws helpless animals outside on a night like this
? “I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“No, I don’t think—” Janet stopped. “Okay. Maybe you should come. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t do this.” Becca took a deep breath and glanced down the hall. Zane was headed her way. “How many do you still need to find?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe five or six? Some headed for the woods. Those are the ones I’m worried about.”

The woods.
Helen Kramer’s property bordered Mountain Glen, which backed up to about twenty acres of thick pines. If the cats found their way in there on a night of heavy snow and freezing temperatures, they’d almost certainly die. Becca hung up without saying goodbye.

“You’re leaving,” Zane said as he reached her. “Aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t unless it was an emergency.”

He clutched a glass of beer, half-full. A tiny muscle worked in the side of his jaw. “Seems like it’s always an emergency.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t be mad.”

He took a long swallow of beer. “I’m not mad. Christ, how can I be mad? You’re running out into a goddamn blizzard to rescue…what is it this time? A pair of goats? A blind horse? You’re Mother Theresa of the animal world, Bec. There’s no way I could be mad.”

Her face flushed. “Okay, then. You’re being a jackass.”

His expression softened. “I’m not. Or maybe I am. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be. I just thought we could enjoy this night all the way through.” He ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “I’m crazy about you, doll. And, yes, I guess that makes me a little jealous sometimes.”

“It’s just work. It’s…” But she didn’t know how to explain in a way that would make him understand. “You know Helen Kramer? Lives in one of those old homes behind the Glen?”

“Sure. Her son went to school with me. Good guy.”

“A
good
guy? No. He’s not anything close to that. He went over to her house tonight, opened all the doors and threw her cats outside.”

He frowned. “Why?”

Tears of frustration rose in her eyes. “I don’t know. Because he’s a heartless asshole?”

Zane rubbed his thumb along his glass. “I remember him being a decent guy. Maybe there’s something you don’t know. Maybe he had a reason.”

“A reason to toss twenty-one cats outside on the coldest night of the year?”

His eyes widened. “Twenty-one? Well, shit. That’s a hell of a lot of animals to be living in someone’s house.”

“So it’s okay, what he did?”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. I only meant—”

“I know what you meant.” It took all her strength to focus on the words. “Animals can take care of themselves, right? They’ll be fine. They have intuition.” She lifted a palm. “You’ve made yourself clear. Many times.”

His expression hardened.

She pushed away all her feelings, every last little part of her that had fallen for Zane Andrews over the last three weeks. “You can get a ride home?”

“I’m sure I can.”

Probably with one of those women sitting at his table.
She nodded and walked by him without another word. Five minutes later, with tears stinging her eyes and the wind swirling around her, Becca slid into the driver’s seat of her car and headed into the storm.