Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 03 - Sleight of Paw (21 page)

“I like it just about any way I can get it,” she responded while unbuttoning her light-weight cotton blouse. Bud watched as she unfastened her capris and let them drop. She stepped out of them and tossed them on a nearby chair. She then stood in front of the mirror and pulled her hair up, wrapping it in a loose knot. Bud was mesmerized as he stared at her lovely womanly form and the dainty skimpy undergarments she wore.
If I’d known she was wearing such sexy underwear,
he thought,
I would have been so distracted while driving, I might have crashed the car.

“It’s taking a long time to fill,” she said, leaning over the edge of the tub and watching the water run into it. Bud stood bare-chested, staring down at her. After a few minutes, she looked up at him.
Man is he ever toned and taut. He’s actually quite gorgeous
—
something that’s not obvious under the clothes he usually wears.
“It’s full enough, don’t you think?” she asked.

“Uh-oh.” He looked over. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He stood up, turned away from Brianna and slipped out of his jeans. Brianna did not turn away.

The following day, Brianna and Bud woke up in each other’s arms. “Good morning, beautiful,” Bud said, brushing a curl off Brianna’s forehead.

“Hi,” she said sleepily. “What time’s it?”

“Do you need to be somewhere?”

She thought for a moment, looked around the room and then at Bud, and said, “As a matter of fact, no.” She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

“Mmmmm,” he said as he pulled away from the kiss. “Don’t get me started again. I have a horse to look at, remember?” He kissed her once, twice, three times on the lips and then moaned, “I really have to get up or…”

“Or what, cowboy?” she asked.

“You know what,” he said kissing her one more time before climbing out of bed quickly lest he succumb to the temptation to stay there all day.

Brianna rolled over and watched as Bud grabbed his clothes and headed for the bathroom.

***

“Good bye beautiful room, Jacuzzi, view, winery… I hope to see you again,” Brianna said, giving the room one more look on her way out the door with her overnight bag. “And dinner last night under the stars…it was wonderful,” she said. “And so were you.” She grabbed the front of Bud’s shirt and pulled him in for yet another kiss.

“I’ll give you all day to quit that,” he said with a chuckle.

She looked up into his eyes. “I wish we had another whole day.”

“We’ll have others, Brianna. At least, I’d like to.”

“Promise?” she asked.

“Oh yes. I want to see a lot more of you.”

She turned toward him on the way out the door and said, “What more is there to see of me?”

They both laughed.

Once the couple had loaded their two small overnight bags into the back of the SUV, Bud pulled out a square device with a small screen and affixed it with a suction cup to the windshield, at the left of the steering wheel.

“What’s that?” Brianna asked, crinkling up her nose.

“GPS,” he responded while pushing some of the buttons.

“Oh brother,” she said. “Don’t you know how to read a map? Those are the most ridiculous and annoying things ever invented. I knew someone who used one and he had these conversations with that woman in there all the time—even argued with her when he didn’t want to go where she said to go. I hated that thing.”

“You have one in your Lexus, don’t you?” he asked as he programmed the device.

“Yeah, but I rarely use it.”

“Well, I like GPS technology. It’s amazingly accurate.” He started the car and looked over at her. “Did you know that your cell phone has GPS? I find it to be incredibly useful for all types of travel. It’s a great system.”

Brianna flashed him a disgusted look and shook her head.

After they’d been driving for a few miles, Bud asked, “Are you hungry?”

“Sure am.”

“Wanna stop here for breakfast?” he motioned to a restaurant up ahead.

“Sure. As long as they have hot coffee.”

“How far away is the horse we’re visiting?” she asked after they were seated and had placed their order.

“According to the GPS, about thirty miles northwest. So not too far.”

“What will the horse be used for?”

“Dad’s looking for another ranch horse.”

“Oh, a working horse?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“What will his job be?” she asked.

“It’s a mare. She’ll be used for round-ups, branding; things like that.”

“Does your dad treat horses well?” she wanted to know.

Bud looked at her, cocking his head, a lock of his wavy dark-blond hair trailing alongside his temple. “Yes,” he said. “He’s very good with horses—has a gentle way with them.”

“So he doesn’t whip them and stuff to make them mind? I’ve seen guys do that and it always makes me mad.”

He shook his head and said, “Oh no, he doesn’t believe in mistreating any animal.” He thought for a moment and then said, “He’s the reason why I decided to become a vet—Dad and Grace.”

“Well, you’re not a vet, are you? I thought you were a vet tech.”

“Oh, I have my license, just haven’t officially put it into practice, yet. Too much responsibility, still, at my folks’ ranch.”

“Who’s Grace?”

“She was my first dog. We had dogs on the ranch—working dogs. And I liked them fine, as well as the cats and horses and cattle. But Grace was my first pet dog.” He seemed to be in another world for a moment as he brought her memory into focus. He looked at Brianna and said, “She was the most beautiful border collie mix and smart, too. Mom and Dad gave her to me for my eighth birthday and we were best pals until…” He took a deep breath.

Brianna stared hard at Bud and asked quietly, “How was it that she made you want to be a vet?”

“Well, she was only six years old when she died; she was hit by a car. I was the first one to find her. She was hurt real bad and I wanted so much to be able to help her, but there was nothing I could do. I swore then that I would never let another animal die if I could help it. I was fourteen when she died and I’ve been focused on being a veterinarian ever since.”

Brianna reached out and rested her hand on Bud’s, massaging it with her thumb.

He took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes and asked, “So what made you want to be a doctor?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have such a touching story. I’ve just always been interested in science.”

“Oh, one of those brainy math and science students?”

“You might say that. When a junior high counselor suggested that I could become a doctor if I wanted, I thought, ‘why not?’ And my path has been leading in that direction ever since.”

“What will you specialize in? Have you decided?”

“Yes, I’d better have made my decision by now. I graduate in the spring. I want to be a geriatric specialist.”

“Why?” Bud asked, his brow crinkled.

“Why not?” She laughed. “I just think this is an area that, for many years, was neglected. And I think there’s a lot we can learn and more that we can do for our elderly.” She looked down at their hands, and said, “Bud, I think there’s a lot to be said for outlook. So many doctors today are focused on some of the wrong things when it comes to treating the elderly. We need more positive reinforcement and less major surgery, if that makes sense. I mean, putting a ninety-year-old man through major elective surgery just doesn’t make much sense to me. Sure, I believe in quality of life and I’m not against surgery. But I think some of our doctors today are frivolous in their recommendations where the older generation is concerned.”

Brianna tilted her head. “You’re staring at me,” she said. “Are you even hearing a word I’m saying?”

“Yeah, you like old people and doctors are frivolous,” he said flippantly. He turned serious. “You know, I really like your hair curly like that.”

She displayed her palms, smiled and said, “This is the real me. I’m afraid I have curly hair.”

“So yesterday I was with an imposter?” he said laughing.

The couple pulled away from the table and watched as the pert waitress placed two plates in front of them. She poured more coffee into their cups and then retreated. Brianna looked down at her veggie omelet and fruit bowl with lust in her eyes. “Mmmm, looks good,” she said.

“Not as good as my meat-lover’s meal,” Bud said.

“Ewwww, all of that cholesterol and nitrates.” She paused and said, “It does look good, though.”

Bud glanced up at her. “So, do you eat healthy all the time, or are you just showing off?”

She smirked. “Humph, if I was showing off, it appears that it would be wasted on you.”

“Yup,” he said as he dipped his heavily buttered biscuit into a bowl of gravy and took a big bite.

***

“I need to stop for gas before we head out to parts unknown,” Bud said, glancing to his left before making a right turn into a quick-stop market. He pulled up to a gas pump, stepped out of the car, slid his credit card into the slot, and began pumping gas.

Brianna pulled a bill out of her purse and she stepped out of the car, too. “I’ll be back in a minute—want to get a bottle of water. Want anything?” she asked before walking away.

“Yeah, water sounds good, thanks.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill. “Here,” he said.

She slapped her hand in his direction. “I got it.”

Brianna slipped through the automatic sliding door of the little market as it opened, looked around, and spotted the water bottles toward the back of the store. She walked up to the cooler, studied the sizes, brands, and prices, and then opened the door and removed two bottles. Just then she heard a voice from somewhere behind her: “Give me the cash.”

She spun around in time to see a man standing at the checkout counter pointing what appeared to be a gun at the clerk. The heavyset man behind the counter stared in terror at the gunman. He stepped back from the counter as if he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Put the money in the bag. Now. Hurry!” the gunman said, glancing out the windows as if searching for someone.

The clerk looked past the gunman toward Brianna, who was frozen in place. She could see that he was trying to figure out what to do—sound an alarm, pull out a weapon of his own, perhaps, or give him the money. Brianna just hoped he would make the right decision and the gunman would leave without incident. As far as she knew, he wasn’t aware of her. She wanted to keep it that way. But when the gunman saw the clerk look in her direction a second time, he turned quickly and saw her. He backed away from the counter. Keeping the gun aimed at the clerk and in a position to where he could see both of them, he growled, “Get over here where I can see you.” She hesitated. “Now!” he ordered.

Brianna walked slowly toward the counter and stopped. She looked out the window and saw that Bud was still pumping gas. “Just give him the money,” she said to the clerk.

“Yeah, do like she says,” he told him.

“I don’t have much yet. It’s early in the day,” he said.

“Don’t matter. I’ll take what ya got. Now get it!”

The clerk pushed a button on the cash drawer. He reached in and grasped the bills, stuffing them into the bag the gunman had tossed on the counter.

“That’s all?” he asked.

“Yes. Like I said…”

“Is there a safe here? What about a bank deposit ready to go to the bank?”

The clerk shook his head. “No.”

“You’d better not be lyin’ to me,” he said. He took the bag of money and then looked over at Brianna. She held a twenty-dollar bill in her hand. She had left her purse in the car. The man snatched the bill from Brianna’s hand and looked her up and down. “Got anymore on ya?”

“No,” she said, through gritted teeth.

“Let me see.” he reached over and patted the front pockets of her jeans.

“Don’t you touch me, you slime,” she snarled. Just then, saw the sliding door open and Bud walked into view. The gunman spun around and pointed the gun at Bud. “Git over here,” he demanded.

Bud held his hands out so the man could see them and walked over next to Brianna. “What the hell do you want, man?” he asked.

“I want your money. Give me all you got and don’t try to hold out.”

Bud gave him a sarcastic look and then reached into his front pocket, pulled out a few bills, and handed them to the guy. The gunman looked down at what he held in his hand, “A hundred. Cool. Got any more where that came from?”

Bud shook his head. “That’s it man. Now you’d better leave before the cops get here.”

“What cops?”

“The cops I called when I saw you through the window holding that gun.”

The gunman became visibly nervous. He turned and quickly glanced around outside. “Shit!” he said. He ran to the sliding doors and looked to the right and the left and then he rushed back toward the counter. “My ride left me,” he said as if sounding defeated. He looked out at Bud’s Explorer. “Is that your car?”

Bud grimaced and nodded.

He looked over at Brianna and back at Bud, “You two together?”

“Uh…” Bud wasn’t sure what to say.
What does this jerk have in mind? How can I keep Brianna safe?

“Well?” the gunman demanded.

“Yeah, we’re together,” Brianna said.

“Well, you’re gonna be my ride.”

“No I’m not,” Bud said.

“Oh yes you are.” He then reached over and slammed the pistol over the clerk’s head. Brianna watched in horror as the large man fell slowly to the floor, blood trickling from a wound on his head. The gunman grabbed Brianna and put the gun against her ribcage. She dropped the bottles of water. He turned to Bud, “If you know what’s good for you and you don’t want your woman hurt, you’ll do as I say. Now move.” He motioned with the gun toward the door.

Brianna stumbled over the bottles of water as the gunman pushed and pulled her along with him toward the front door, behind Bud. She could only hope to see the cops drive up before they reached Bud’s car. But no such luck.
Maybe it was a bluff when Bud said the cops were on the way. I sure hope not.