Melted By The Lion: A Paranormal Lion Shifter Romance (10 page)

“I’m starting an animal shelter.”

Trevor looked at me for a long moment, his expression one of surprise and maybe disbelief. “Right here in the commander’s mansion.”

I nodded. “That’s correct. I figure if you really want me to live here for a little while, I may as well go about living how I want, and doing what I think needs to be done in this community. Since I recalled today that running an animal shelter was my job before the nuclear blast, and since I recalled that it was my passion and my life’s work to take care of animals while finding permanent homes for them, I’ve decided to pick up right where I left off. And you of all people should understand what I’m doing, Trevor. After all, an animal shelter is a form of a business, albeit maybe a nonprofit one, and you seem to understand business arrangements very well.”

Right then, Snowball jumped down from the couch, strolled over to Trevor, and tentatively began circling around one of his ankles, brushing up against him. I could hear her purr motor running from ten feet away.

“Snowball is one of our newest arrivals. She’s especially friendly.”

Trevor looked down at Snowball now head-butting his ankle. “I can see that.”

With Snowball being such a sweet girl, helping my cause, I started to think that convincing Trevor to let me keep all the animals in the house might not be so hard after all. Though I had that thought right before Rascal suddenly sank his teeth into the leather couch and immediately shook his head back and forth, making several small tears in the leather and pulling out some of the stuffing beneath it. He then had the audacity to look up at me, panting. And I could have sworn his mouth was curved into a little smile.

Face flaming, I looked up at Trevor, forcing myself to remain cool and businesslike. “Please excuse what Rascal just did. He has some behavioral problems. And I’ll fix that, by the way. I’ll, well, I’ll just stuff the stuffing back in, and then just sew the leather right back up or something. You’ll never even know the couch was damaged.”

I really had no idea how to sew. Let alone how to sew leather well enough so that a trace of damage wouldn’t even be visible. And before I could fib about my sewing skills further, Rascal sunk his teeth into another part of the couch and then jerked his head back and forth, causing the thin leather to tear with another loud rip.

Right away, I got up and guided him away from the couch with a firm hand on his neck, cringing inwardly, though all the while trying to maintain my attitude of cool, businesslike dignity with Trevor. “Please excuse that, too. Rascal’s behavioral problems are, well, they’re very profound. But just give me a needle and thread, and I’ll have your couch looking just as good as new in no time.”

I had a feeling that was a promise I likely wouldn’t be able to keep, though I would try.

Once I had Rascal what I thought was a safe distance away from the couch and had him corralled sitting between my ankles, I looked up at Trevor, half-expecting to see smoke coming out of his ears. But instead, to my surprise, I saw him leaning against the wall, arms folded loosely across his broad chest, and something like a smile playing around the edges of his full, delectable lips.

Heart doing a little flip at the sight, I couldn’t help but smile a little myself. “What? Do you find canine behavioral problems amusing?”

“No, I find
you
amusing. I find that I’m always fighting a smile around you, even during times when I find you absolutely maddening.”

His words hung in the air for a long moment before I responded, forgetting all about my resolve to remain businesslike.

“Trevor, please just stay this way. Please stay just how you are, with your eyes warm how they are. Don’t go cold again. Please. Whatever wall you keep putting up, we can work to keep it down together. We can—”

“You may keep the animals in the vacant east staff wing for now. Try to get them adopted out, and try to keep all damage to a bare—”

“Trevor, don’t.”

“Minimum. Get the dog some chew toys, and put him in a room with no leather furniture. Have I made myself clear?”

Trevor had stood up straight from his lean against the wall and was now looking at me yet somehow seeming to look through me at the same time, jaw clenched. For the second time that day, I felt tears prickling my eyelids. But for the first time that day, my blood began to boil.

“You’ve made yourself
crystal
clear, Commander Beaumont. And I’ll agree to the business arrangement of me keeping the animals in the east wing, because I know that making business arrangements is the only way you operate. But just so we’re both clear about the arrangement, I should tell you right now that I plan to rescue more animals and add them to the shelter. And I’m not going to stop until all the cats and dogs in the forest are safe, and clean, and fed, and adopted out to good, loving homes.”

Trevor’s dead-eyed gaze was no longer on me; he was looking at Snowball, who’d strolled away from his leg and was now pawing around in the potpourri mess on the floor in a way that made me think that she soon intended to use the bathroom on it.

“Do what you want, Savannah. Just please stay away from me.”

“
You
were the one who approached
me
in here.”

“Because I came home for a shower and a bite to eat, and heard inexplicable barking coming from my formal living room.”

“Well, nonetheless.”

“Just please stay away from me. And keep your menagerie of wild animals away from me, too.”

“Says the man who can shift into a lion, which I believe is supposed to be one of the wildest animals of them all. But if my little kitties and doggies scare you, fine, I’ll keep them away.”

“Just keep them away from me.”

“I said I would.”

“And keep yourself away from me.”

“Gladly.”

“No more coming down to breakfast with your wild, un-brushed hair.”

“I’ll start having my breakfasts delivered to the new animal wing of the house.”

Trevor snorted, immediately chasing the action with a sigh. “‘Animal wing’ in the commander’s mansion. Jesus.”

“Please just leave, Trevor. I don’t think Snowball is able to use the restroom with a man in the room.”

She was still pawing around in the potpourri, kicking it behind her, as if she really needed to go, but just couldn’t quite get comfortable enough to do so.

Trevor dragged his hands over his face. “Jesus.”

With that, he finally left the room. Immediately, Snowball finally peed. A tear that had been wanting to fall from one of my eyes finally did. I brushed it away and then knelt to try to get some love from Rascal, but I found him finally all chewed out, fast asleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Emotionally and physically spent, I carried a sleeping Rascal over to the couch, where Snowball, now with an empty bladder, had joined the rest of the snoozing cats. I knew I should probably be moving all the animals to the east wing, or at least starting on trying to repair the ripped couch, or cleaning up all the urine-soaked potpourri on the floor, but I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. Moments after sitting down on the couch with Rascal, I fell asleep myself with him on my lap and a pile of dozing cats beside me.

It didn’t feel like I was out for very long, ten or twenty minutes, maybe, when I was awoken by the sound of Veronica’s voice.

“Oh, what in the
hell
.”

I opened my eyes, sighing, and saw her standing not five feet away from me and all the sleeping animals, hands on hips. “Just relax. I’m just starting an animal shelter, and these sweet animals are the first—”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re starting a zoo, right here in—”

“It’s an
animal shelter
. Or animal
sanctuary
, if you like.”

“Right here in the damned royal mansion of the commander-in-chief, like you don’t even have any respect for his power.” Veronica shook her head, clucking her tongue. “Does Trevor know about this? Because I think I just might have to—”

“Trevor knows. I told him how I remember running an animal shelter before I was frozen, and he just a little while ago gave me his full blessing to start one here in this house, in the completely vacant and unused east wing.”

That
wiped the smug look off Veronica’s face. Her eyes widened in surprise, but just for second.

Then, she jutted her chin in the air with a sniff. “Well, good for you. But you’re not the only one around here who’s been remembering their past. I actually recalled today what
I
used to do for a living. Do you want to hear what I used to do?”

“Not really.”

“
I
used to be an Olympic gold medal-winning rhythmic gymnast. You know, the kind of gymnast that twirls the ribbons and does all the different routines with the hoops and balls and all that.” She began pacing around in front of the couch, stepping right on the urine-soaked potpourri with her flip-flops. “That’s what
I
used to do, and my God, was I good at it. I won my first Olympic medal at sixteen, and then another at twenty, and then I was just going to retire after that, but all my fans wouldn’t let me. The fan letters that came in, thousands and thousands of them, tens of thousands, really, when they were all counted up, all begged me to return to the stage.”

“Don’t rhythmic gymnasts perform on a big mat, just like regular gymnasts?”

“I couldn’t let everyone down. They believed in me. They loved me. They
needed
me. And so, at the age of twenty-four, I returned to the Olympics. And won my third gold medal. It was magic. Some of my fans even hurled themselves off the top balcony of the arena and fell to their deaths, because after seeing me win my third gold, all their hopes and dreams had been realized, and they felt they had nothing to look forward to in life anymore.”

“Well, that seems a bit extreme.”

Veronica paused in her pacing for a second, snorting. “Oh, it was. Extreme love for me and what I’d accomplished. Never before had one rhythmic gymnast won three Olympics, especially in a row. And after that, the endorsements really started rolling in.”

“What kinds of things did you endorse?”

“Oh, mostly cereal. Some kind of tennis shoes. And I think they named a new line of ridiculously expensive sports cars after me or something.”

“‘Veronica-mobiles?”

She continued pacing, tossing her thick, bouncy cinnamon-auburn hair over one shoulder. “I think I did a line of perfume, too. Orchid something-or-other. It was like fifteen thousand dollars a bottle or something. I thought that was a little steep at first, but the company that made it kept saying, ‘We want it to be as rare and as precious as you are.’ So, eventually, I said fine. Fifteen grand it is. That perfume still sold out in a day. Two hours, actually. Hour-and-a-half, maybe, from the time the department stores opened until the time that the very last bottle in the country was sold. And, actually, now that I think of it, it was fifty-seven minutes exactly. It went in the Guinness Book as a world record for a fragrance launch.”

It struck me that Veronica’s memories were awfully detailed.

“But, back to your original question, what I really endorsed the most was simply myself. Just myself, and my fame. I endorsed
me
. And by doing that, by simply being who I was, I gave millions of people, all across the globe, hope and a reason to live.”

“I thought you said people were killing themselves because of you. Hurling themselves off balconies.”

Veronica finally stopped in her pacing and looked at me, blue eyes narrowed. “You know what? I’ve been very maturely ignoring all your snide little remarks, but I just can’t any longer. Your immaturity has really gone too far. Which is very ironic, after
you
accused
me
of being immature just a couple of days ago.”

She was right; I probably
was
being a bit immature with some of my comments. But she almost
forced
me to be. She at least brought it out in me. And after my exchange with Trevor, maybe I’d almost felt the need to blow off a tiny amount of steam at someone. But just the same, I knew that was no excuse for possibly being borderline rude.

“I’m sorry, Veronica.”

I
kind of
was, anyway.

“Whatever. I don’t even know why I’m in here talking to you. You said Trevor’s home, right? I need to go find him and tell him that I was an Olympic rhythmic gymnast. I’m sure he’ll be awfully interested to hear about all my different flexibility skills. Maybe he’ll want to see some for himself later tonight. So, bye for now! Have fun with your dumb little zoo, as long as it keeps you away from Trevor.”

Immature or not, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, hard, as she breezed out of the room, her shampoo-commercial hair billowing behind her.

I remained on the couch, debating whether or not I should wake Rascal in order to take him to the east wing. Before I could make up my mind, Bridget called, wanting to know how it was all going with the animals. Not wanting to talk about Trevor, I glossed over that part, just saying that I’d gotten the green light to start a shelter in the east wing, and that all the animals were doing fine. Then, I switched gears, briefly telling her all that Veronica had just told me.

Bridget snorted. “Wow. And do you believe her?”

I thought for a few moments. “I don’t know. I think she obviously embellished a lot, and some parts pretty wildly, but I actually kind of believe that her core story, that she was an Olympic rhythmic gymnast, might be true. She
does
have the right sort of ultra-toned-yet-willowy body for it. And maybe it’s easier for the rhythmic gymnasts to have bigger boobs like hers, because they don’t have to flip around as much as the regular gymnasts. From what I remember about the sport, which I admit, is very limited knowledge, I think rhythmic gymnastics is more just dance and flexibility skills than flipping. Or, it
was
; I don’t know if it’s still even a sport here. I learned in the hospital that baseball has been replaced by some weird sport called jugball. But, anyway, I guess I
do
kind of believe Veronica. Maybe. It would make perfect sense that all the adoration from her fans gave her the prima donna attitude that she has.”

Just then, startling me, Veronica herself came stomping into the room, Snowball at her heels. “Um,
excuse me
, but this
thing
keeps following me wherever I go trying to look for Trevor.”

I hadn’t even noticed Snowball leave the room. My shelter-directing was not seeming to be off to a great start.

I told Bridget I had to go and ended the call, then got up to retrieve Snowball from behind Veronica’s feet. “This ‘
thing
’ is called a cat, and she’s following you around because for whatever weird reason, she likes you.” I picked up a purring Snowball and held her to my chest, looking at Veronica. “You should come visit her in the new animal wing sometime. Because I think the list of people and creatures who like you is a pretty short one.”

I’d known it was an uncalled for, nasty comment even while I’d been saying it. But Veronica wasn’t going to get any more apologies from me that day. Not unless she apologized for calling Snowball a “thing.”

She didn’t, of course. After a glare at me for the ages, she just turned heel and stalked out of the room, muttering to herself.

I soon cleaned up the formal living room and moved all the animals to the east wing, and then with Jeannie’s help, spent the rest of the day bathing and grooming the animals. Trevor didn’t come home that night, or the next. Even in my sleep, I seemed to be listening for his heavy footfalls, but never heard them.

But the third evening after I’d taken in the animals, I happened to run into Veronica in the casual kitchen. And her demeanor instantly struck me as odd. Smiling, she was almost literally twirling around the kitchen, moving from the fridge to the counter and back again with light little hops and half-turns, taking out all the food items she needed to make whatever she was making. She was actually humming.

Once she’d finally stilled for the most part and stood at the counter, beginning to assemble what appeared like it was going to be the deluxe sandwich to end all deluxe sandwiches, she began speaking to me without saying hello, or looking up, or formally acknowledging me in any other way. “Tonight’s the night, you know.”

“Sorry?”

She began placing tomato slices on a piece of bread, still not looking up at me. “I texted Trevor today about how I used to be an Olympic rhythmic gymnast, and he texted back that he’s finally coming home tonight. He asked me to meet him in his room at eleven.”

I’d come into the kitchen for a bottle of water and a light, pre-bedtime snack, yogurt maybe, but now I didn’t want either. All I wanted was for Veronica to somehow magically suck the words she’d just said right back into her mouth.

Stomach churning, I left the kitchen without saying a word and kind of staggered down the hallway and up the stairs to my room. There, I got into bed fully dressed and stared at the ceiling for an hour or so, watching as it turned from dusky gray, to nearly black, to moonlight silver. After that, I somehow managed to fall asleep for a couple of hours. I awoke to the sound of thudding boots in the room next door and opened my eyes, hardly daring to breathe. After maybe a minute or two, a soft knock. A laugh. Veronica’s. Several minutes of near-silence, just a few indistinct, muffled sounds, a little low conversation. Then, a female moan so sudden and loud it struck my ears like a slap.

So, they were having sex. So, Veronica was probably going to become pregnant soon. That was what I wanted, so that Trevor the businessman would possibly be inclined to just let me move out and go on my merry way. Or maybe that was what I
had
wanted, before whatever had happened between the two of us in the kitchen when he’d kissed me had happened, officially turning my thinking about the situation to scrambled eggs. But, despite whatever had happened between us, Trevor went ahead with his plan to impregnate Veronica anyway, probably spurred on by the promise of sex with a very flexible former Olympic gymnast. So, I told myself, I was completely back to not caring about him anymore, on any level. I was back to wanting Veronica to just get pregnant so I could find a new place for the animals and myself and just get on with my new life. That was truly all I wanted at this point. So I wasn’t quite sure why the fact that Trevor and Veronica were having sex should make me cry into my pillow, shoulders shaking with sobs.

*

I cried so hard that I eventually put two pillows over my head so that Trevor and Veronica wouldn’t hear my sobs. This had the bonus effect that I couldn’t hear them anymore, either.

The next day, I moved all my things down to an empty bedroom in the animal wing. Passing me on the stairs as I was carrying down a stack of my bath towels topped with two pairs of shoes, Trevor didn’t say a word. And as for me, I didn’t even look at him. I was all business.

A few weeks passed. I steered clear of Trevor and Veronica, and for the most part, they both steered clear of me. For the scant seconds we did come into contact, Trevor and I were never alone in a room together even once.

I tried to repair the formal living room couch with a needle and thread, but only had limited success. The next day, the damaged couch was gone, replaced by one almost identical.

I rescued more scrawny animals from the woods, about two dozen of them, and added them to the shelter in the east wing of the house. After getting them cleaned up with help from Bridget and Jeannie, and sterilized and attended to by the town’s only vet, I adopted some of the animals out to families in town, but decided to keep Rascal for my own. Now with a lustrous, clean, glowing golden coat, he was still being quite rascally at times, though his chewing habit had improved. But even if it hadn’t, I still would have kept him anyway. I knew he loved me, and Lord only knew that love was something that was in short supply in my life.