Firefly Mountain (37 page)

Mason peeled her back and took a fresh tissue. Dabbing at her cheeks, he said, “Come on. Let’s get these kitties cleaned, okay? I’ve still got men posted outside, and Chief Warner is sending a truck and some fighters over just in case. No one’s getting close to this shelter that doesn’t have authorization. Give me a number for one of the vets, and I’ll get someone to call. These cats should probably be examined after they’re cleaned.”

As Gini nodded, Patrick replaced Mason and raised Gini’s chin until her eyes met his. He dropped the softest of kisses onto her tear-stained lips, and without saying a word, he made Gini feel better. His touch, his presence, calmed and soothed her better than any of the stupid techniques she’d been using to manage her anger. Patrick pulled her into an embrace and held her for a few moments.

“Who’s the least likely to scratch our eyes out?” he asked as he tugged her toward the cages.

Despite her tears, Gini had to laugh. “Bella in the top right cage. She’s as gentle as they come.”

Patrick opened that cage, and a pure white cat rubbed his hands as she meowed. He lifted her out and followed Gini to the sink where she threw another towel to the floor on the suds that had overflowed. Jonah and Haddy came in as Patrick lowered Bella into the water. The cat squirmed, but Patrick kept a firm grip on her until his hands and the cat were covered in suds.

“Haddy,” Mason said, “you and I will clean the cages while Patrick and Gini clean the cats.”

Haddy nodded as she got a chair for Jonah. “And Jonah can cuddle the cats before we put them back in the cages. He’s so good at cuddling.” She planted a kiss on Jonah’s forehead.

“A+ in Cuddling 101 right here, folks.” Jonah aimed a thumb at himself.

Gini looked at her friends and her brother, all of them willing to endure the horrid gasoline smell to pitch in and help these animals. She felt like crying again, but happy tears this time. Lunatic arsonists didn’t stand a chance with people like the ones in this room around.

****

Sick and twisted?
No. Those fools had it all backward. They were the twisted ones thinking they could stop her. Thinking they could contain the fires she unleashed. They’d known where to look this time. Had finally caught on. Found her candle, discovered her gasoline. But they had not caught her. They weren’t good enough. She’d easily disappeared into the woods after hearing that self-absorbed fighter call her sick and twisted.

There was nothing wrong with what she had done. She’d enjoyed the sound those cats made as she doused them in the sweet nectar of fuel. Their wails were music, helpless cries rising in harmony. She could have listened to it all night, but she had a timetable to follow. She was right on schedule too until that cop and firefighter interfered. What right did they have to destroy her plans? To interrupt tonight’s performance? To make her waste all that gasoline?

No right. No right at all. And then to call her names too. She was not sick and twisted. She was doing the best she could with what she had. She’d planned bigger and better fires each step of the way. No easy feat. Yet, where were the congratulations? The praise? The gratitude?

They were too wrapped up in their perfect little lives to notice. Well, she’d make them notice. She’d planned the final fire for Burnam’s school complex. Kindergarten to high school all in one sweet location, one monumental target. Hitting a town’s children always made a grand finale.

But the more she thought about it, the more a new plan took shape in her mind. It had been about teaching the entire town a lesson on how they had no control over their petty existences. Now, she wanted to narrow her focus. Zoom in on particulars. Teach one man a lesson he’d never forget.

That firefighter would regret calling her sick and twisted. It would be the last thing he did.

****

“And I thought giving Midas a bath was a challenge.” Patrick mopped the puddles on the floor of the shelter. His front was soaked, and Gini’s tank top was plastered to her chest and stomach. He didn’t exactly mind that—the view was spectacular—but he wished they were alone so he didn’t have to keep his hands to himself.

“Cats and baths don’t mix,” Gini said, “but then again, cats and gasoline don’t either.” She took the last kitten from Jonah’s lap and put it back into its freshly cleaned cage.

“Listen,” Jonah said. “Not a meow of protest now. They may not have liked the man-handling or the water or the impromptu vet probing, but they’re happy now. And it doesn’t stink so bad in here anymore either.”

Gini took Jonah’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks, all of you.”

“We’re here to serve and protect, Miss.” Mason tipped an imaginary hat. “That includes cats.” He tapped Gini on the nose and put away the bucket and sponges he had used to clean the cages.

“After the calendar signing, I’m cooking you all dinner at my farm, and I won’t take no for an answer,” Gini said.

“We wouldn’t say no,” Jonah said. “I will not admit to saying this out loud later, but your cooking is better than Ma’s.”

Patrick watched the sunshine come back into Gini’s face at her brother’s compliment. He’d been worried tonight’s events had lowered a storm cloud, thick and heavy, over Gini. She hadn’t said much as they scrubbed those poor kittens until they were soaked all the way through. She didn’t react when one of them scratched a sizable slice onto her forearm. She just pinched the fur at the cat’s neck and rinsed him off mechanical-like while blood edged the cut.

Looking at her now, though, Patrick was sure she’d be all right. They had done a good thing here tonight. Stopping the fire was major. Catching the sicko would have been nice, but they were on to her. They had more clues to work with and lots of officers on the case now. It was only a matter of time before Burnam’s arsonist was securely behind bars or in a padded room.

“I’m taking Jonah home,” Haddy said. “He’s had enough excitement for his first time out of the house.”

Jonah awkwardly got to his feet, and he stopped Haddy before she left to put the chair away. “I think I have room for a little more excitement tonight,” he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. The wink that went with his words was so incredibly Jonah, and Patrick warmed at the fact that he could recognize that about his friend.

“You’ll be asleep by the time I pull out of this parking lot,” Haddy teased.

“We’ll see about that.” Jonah followed her out the door of the shelter with a wave to Gini. “See you later.”

Mason checked on his officers posted outside then poked his head back inside. “They’re going to keep watch, but I don’t think our perp will be back here tonight.”

“Especially if our arsonist saw us here,” Patrick said. “She’ll move on to her next target.”

“Which, in theory, will be bigger than this place?”

“In theory, yes,” Patrick said.

“We’re running out of bigger places,” Gini said.

“Which means the arsonist is almost done with Burnam,” Patrick said.

“Which means we need to catch her before she leaves.” Mason ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve got some evidence to analyze. I’ll talk to you guys later.” He walked to the door, but swiveled around before leaving. “You guys make a good team.”

Team?
Patrick turned the word over in his mind as he looked at Gini. She was still soaked, and now they were alone. In three steps he was standing in front of her, his hands wrapping around her waist, cold, wet cotton pressing against his forearms.

Gini slid her hands up to his shoulders and laced her fingers at the back of his neck.
Team.
Yes, Patrick definitely wanted Gini on his team.

He brushed his lips against hers, and her body sunk into his as she kissed him back. Patrick pulled some of her curls away from her neck and sampled the soft skin there. Gini let out a murmur of pleasure, and Patrick’s insides bubbled.

“You must be exhausted,” he said.

“Actually, I’m wide awake.” Gini shrugged. “Adrenaline rush from wanting to help the cats, I guess.” She let her hands drop and took a step back. “You have some demo work at your place we could do to unwind?”

Patrick held in a sigh.
Okay, she officially became the perfect woman
.

“She doesn’t meow at all?” Gini held Whisper up for closer inspection.

“Not a squeak,” Patrick said.

“That’s sad.” Gini nuzzled the top of the kitten’s head with her chin. Whisper swiped a paw out at one of Gini’s loose curls, and Gini laughed. “My, you’re a cutie, and now you have a good home.”

“It’ll be better once everything is done and the dust settles,” Patrick said.

“I meant she’s got a good home because she has you.” Gini put Whisper down and leaned against the wall she had helped Patrick put up the last time she was at his house.

“Midas hasn’t run off to find a new owner, so maybe you’re right.” Patrick walked over to Gini and rested a hand on either side of her, corralling her against the wall.

“Well, he knows he’s got the best. Why would he look elsewhere?” Gini loved the way Patrick’s eyes darkened in color when he looked at her. As if he’d never seen anything so interesting. She felt less and less like a fire-starting freak and more and more like a woman. A woman in love.

“What do you want to work on?” Patrick asked.

Now there’s a question
, Gini thought. All she wanted to work on was getting Patrick out of his clothes. She had a feeling Patrick wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to that idea, but also knew he was a man who liked to ease into things. Some construction work would let them release what they’d seen at the shelter. Gini could still hear the cats wailing in her mind and needed a little time to clear that out of her system before she could concentrate on pleasuring this incredible man standing in front of her.

“What’s next on your list?” Gini placed her hands on Patrick’s chest and watched his eyes close for a moment.

“List?” he mumbled. “What list?” Patrick lowered his head to Gini’s. He teased her lips with light kisses until Gini’s hands slid to Patrick’s waist. She hooked her fingers on the pockets of his pants and pulled him toward her. When his hips neared hers, the drive to feel his flesh against her own was maddening. Gini feasted on Patrick’s mouth and he on hers until she was ready to erupt.

“If you seriously want to do some demo tonight, we’d better get to it,” Gini whispered. Her voice was breathy and low. “Then we’re so getting back to this.” She pecked him lightly on the cheek.

Patrick shook his head as if he were waking from a dizzying dream. “I’ve got some strapping to hang on the master bedroom ceiling to get it ready for drywall. If you cut and hand it to me, I can nail. We’ll be done within the hour and can get back to
this
.” He slipped a hand up the back of her neck into her hair and pulled her close for another kiss.

“Deal.” Gini could barely get the word out after having Patrick’s lips on her with such passion, such desire.

“I’m going to change,” Patrick said.

No need to change. You’re perfect.
Gini enjoyed watching Patrick walk out of the great room toward the bedroom he was using. She busied herself with setting up the miter saw on Patrick’s sawhorses and hauling the bundles of strapping from the garage to the great room. After doing that, she wasn’t even a little less turned on. In fact, touching his tools, waiting for him to come back, thinking about the feel of his lips, his hands, made her arousal skyrocket. By the time, Patrick strode into the great room dressed in jeans with a hole in the right knee, scuffed work boots, and a black T-shirt, Gini was ready to drop kick him to the carpet and ravage him.

“You okay?” he asked as he turned on the compressor and attached his nail gun.

“Yeah, but let’s work fast.”

Gini licked her lips, donned a pair of safety glasses and earplugs, and took up her post at the miter saw while Whisper and Midas took off for a quieter corner of the house. They worked like a well-oiled machine, Patrick calling out measurements, Gini cutting and bringing him strapping. Using the nail gun, Patrick popped the boards into place, and as promised, within the hour, the master bedroom ceiling was prepped for drywall.

“Mason is right.” Patrick propped his safety glasses up onto his head and pulled out his earplugs. “We do make a good team.”

“Don’t tell Mason he’s right,” Gini said, removing her glasses and earplugs. “That’s the kind of stuff he lives for.”

Patrick pretended to zip his lips closed as he unplugged the compressor and disconnected the nail gun. Gini unplugged the miter saw and swept up the sawdust she’d created with her cuts.

“Good Goddess,” she said. “I love the smell of sawdust.”

“Plenty of that over here.” Patrick held a shovel to her pile, and Gini brushed the dust into it.

“You getting sick of it?”

“I don’t mind being in the middle of a project,” Patrick began, “but there are so many projects here I feel a little overwhelmed sometimes. I mean, I have a functional bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen, but it’d be nice to have a place to kick my feet up and watch some TV.” He grinned at her. “You know, a place to cuddle up with a beautiful, blond photographer at the end of the day.”

“Something to shoot for,” Gini said around a smile. “Just for the record, though, I’ll cuddle with you anywhere, anytime.”

Patrick closed the distance between them. “Good to know.” He brushed some sawdust off her shorts. “Care to get cleaned up with me?”

“Love to.”

Patrick rubbed his hands together like a child ready to play with a new toy. Gini delighted in the fact she
was
the new toy. She followed Patrick to his bedroom and let out a squeak when he turned around quickly to scoop her off her feet. He dropped her onto the mattresses he was using as a bed and pinned her hands down.

“You’re not dirty enough yet for a shower.”

“You going to get me dirty?” Gini surprised herself by falling so easily into the foreplay talk. Her mind had never worked that quickly before, but with Patrick, feeling sexy was natural.