Winter's Wonder: Pine Point, Book 2 (3 page)

Chapter Five

Becca stared at the man who had just walked inside the Pine Point Paws front office. He was tall, dark and handsome and held two cups of what smelled like heavenly hot cocoa. Then she looked down at herself. Dirty jeans, salt-stained work boots and a long-sleeved shirt covered in cat hair. In one hand, she held a broom. In the other, the file of a no-show adopter. She watched Zane’s expression, a mix of curiosity and something else, probably a certain level of disgust, as he took it all in—and then she burst into tears.

“Whoa. Ah, Becca?”

She cried harder, until tears blurred her vision and her nose began to run. She dropped the broom and leaned against her desk chair—she couldn’t sit on it, since it was piled high with files and bills and a cat bed that needed cleaning. And she just cried. For a solid minute, the sobs burst from her chest and out of her throat. This was ridiculous. It was heart-breaking. Running an animal shelter was non-stop work, both physical and emotional, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could do it. To add insult to injury, Mr. Good Looking, who didn’t even like animals, had just showed up to witness her frazzled state. Finally, she drew one hand across her face.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice hitched. She looked around for a tissue but couldn’t find any, so she just used her sleeve instead. “It’s been a really long day.” From the kennel behind them came the echoes of thirty-three dogs of various shapes and sizes. Julito and Kevin would be in at five-thirty to feed them, but she knew their barks of frustration came from being pent up in this cold weather, not just their hunger.

Zane held out a cup. “Hot cocoa?”

Hot cocoa
. As if a warm beverage could fix all her problems? But she took the cup anyway. “Thanks.” She sniffled away her remaining tears.

He looked around. “Must be tough running this place by yourself.” He ran one hand over paneling that had separated from the wall near the door. A space heater hummed at his feet and two gray cats lay curled up next to it. The baseboard was split, and she had towels stuffed in the cracks along the window. “Needs work.”

Her face heated. “Yes, it does. But in case you didn’t know, the donations aren’t exactly pouring in.” She looked at a crumpled flyer lying on the desk.
Spend Christmas with One of Santa’s Elves!
read the bright red and green letters. Three of their good-natured senior cats were pictured at the bottom with Christmas hats plopped onto their heads. Chrissy had planned an extravagant adoption event back in the fall, hoping for at least twenty of the shelter’s animals to go home in time for the holidays. But with Chrissy’s sudden departure and the lack of volunteers and manpower, Becca had shelved that idea. Now she only hoped she wouldn’t have to take in any more animals, because Pine Point Paws was full to the gills. She’d already turned the back bathroom into a kitten sanctuary and doubled up some of the smaller dogs in the kennel.

“Didn’t mean it as a criticism,” Zane said in a slow drawl. She heard he’d lived down south for a while and it sounded as though he’d picked up an accent in those years. Not that she was really noticing, and not that she found it sexy.

“Just an observation.” He looked back at her, at the pictures and clipboards hanging askew on the walls, at the cats by the heater. “Need some help?”

Her eyes burned, and she almost dissolved into tears all over again. “I thought you said animals could take care of themselves.”

He took his time letting his gaze move from her face to her chest, down her legs and back up. “Wasn’t talking about the animals, necessarily,” he finally said. “Just meant if you need a hand, I’m pretty good with repairs.”

He’s trying to be nice
, a voice inside her said.
Be nice back
. “Thanks for the offer. There are a couple of guys next door who usually take care of that stuff. It’s just hard for them to keep up with everything.”

Zane nodded. He took another look around the office, set down his own cup and backpedaled for the door. “Hang on a minute.”

Becca frowned. He hadn’t said what he was doing here. Maybe he’d caught the dog? Or maybe…worry slipped through her. Maybe he’d
done
something to the dog? She hurried to the window in time to see him walk around to the bed of his truck and drop the tailgate
. Please tell me he didn’t use his pistol after all.
Her fingers went to the cell phone inside her front pocket. If she had to, she’d call the local police. Right now.

But a moment later, Zane pulled out what looked like a pine tree. Carrying it as though it weighed little more than one of her cats, he walked up the path and inside the front door. Just outside the office, he set it on the ground and shook out its boughs.

“Thought you might like a little cheer,” he said from the other side of the tree. She couldn’t see his face, and it was probably good he couldn’t see hers either, considering two minutes ago she’d been about to call the authorities on him.
I’m an idiot. I assumed the worst, and here he is with a damn Christmas tree.

Becca frowned. But this Zane made even less sense than the one with the gun. At least that Zane had resembled the guy she remembered from high school, the bad boy who was cocked and ready to go off at a moment’s notice. This guy? She’d told him off not once but twice in the last week. She looked and smelled about as appealing as something that had crawled out from under a porch. So why was he standing in her hallway with a Christmas tree?

He poked his head around the side of the spruce. “Here? Or would you rather have it in the office?”

She stifled a laugh. “Um, probably out there. The cats will climb it if it’s in here.”

He nodded, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, then disappeared again. She heard grunting and caught sight of him on his hands and knees. The tree swayed precariously from side to side, and a few curse words punctuated the grunts. Becca watched, curious. She should probably offer to help, but she had even less experience setting up a Christmas tree than running an animal shelter, so she kept her mouth shut. A moment later, the tree stopped moving, and Zane emerged from around it.

“Didn’t think to get any decorations,” he said. He grabbed the top and shook it hard. It didn’t move. Red-faced, he edged his way around and joined her in the office again. “But I thought…” He wiped his hands on his ass—an awfully nice ass too, hugged perfectly by those jeans. “Thought you could use a little holiday spirit.”

Becca finished the sinfully sweet cocoa and dropped the cup in the trash can. “Thank you.” It felt like she should do more than that, so she held out her hand. “Really. I appreciate it.”

He looked at her hand, then back up at her face. Heat rushed into her cheeks.
What? What are you looking at?
“I washed,” she said after a minute.

He laughed. “Sorry.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I just…” He didn’t finish.

“What?”

From the kennel behind them, doors opened and closed, and the barks and whines and yelps escalated to a high-fevered pitch. Julito and Kevin must have arrived with food.

Zane said something else, but she could barely hear him over the din. She took a step closer, and so did he, so when he bent and repeated the words, his breath came hot in her ear, and she almost dissolved at the sensation.

“I wondered if you wanted to get dinner sometime.”

Chapter Six

“Wait a minute,” Ella said. She stared into the bathroom mirror, mascara wand in hand. “You’re going to dinner with
who
?”

“Zane Andrews.” Becca stood in the doorway and waited for her sister’s reaction. It didn’t take long to come. Ella dropped the mascara and turned, her mouth a wide O.

“You are
not
.”

“I am.” She walked into her bedroom, peeling off her Pine Point Paws sweatshirt.

Ella followed her with a screech and planted both hands on the doorframe. “Do you mind telling me how exactly
that
happened?”

Becca still wasn’t entirely sure. “He came by the shelter yesterday and asked me.”

Ella looked as if she didn’t believe her. She narrowed her eyes. “What else?”

“What do you mean? Nothing else. He asked me, I said yes—” after about a minute of stunned silence, anyway, “—and he’s picking me up at seven.” She looked at the clock in her bedroom. “Oh, shit.
He’s picking me up at seven
.” She dashed into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“Hey, I wasn’t done in there,” Ella said. But Becca dropped the rest of her clothes and jumped under the spray.

“Sorry!” she called as she lathered up.

When she emerged ten minutes later, Ella stood in the bathroom, arms crossed, makeup half-done, scowling.

“Sorry,” Becca said again. She wrapped the towel around herself and inched past her sister, back into the bedroom, where she stood in front of her open closet. “Now, what am I supposed to wear?” she asked Tucker, the gerbil. He blinked at her, wriggled his whiskers and nosed his food dish. “Yes, you’re very helpful. Thanks.”

“Something sexy,” Ella called from the bathroom.

Leave it to her sister to have supersonic hearing. “I’m going to have to raid your closet again for that,” she called back.

“Yes, you are,” Ella said. She reappeared in the hall, hair sprayed into place and makeup fully applied. “Come on.”

“I’m not going for slutty, just saying,” Becca said as they walked into Ella’s room.

Ella rolled her eyes. “Big difference between slutty and sexy.” She went through her drawers, clicking her tongue until she pulled out a filmy green shirt with buttons down the front. “Here. Put a camisole underneath and a tight pair of jeans, and you’re good to go.”

Becca held the shirt up to the light. Totally see-through. “It’s like zero degrees outside.”

Ella looked at her like she’d grown an extra head. “So what? Are you eating outside? No. Last time I checked, they had heat in restaurants. Now put it on.”

An hour later, Becca sat across from Zane at Marc’s Grille, one of the most upscale restaurants in town, and tried to remember how to breathe. He wore a black button-down shirt and dark jeans, a leather jacket over both and hair that fell into his eyes. Large hands. Large build. Large everything, arms and shoulders and torso, and again he reminded her of some kind of exotic wild animal.

“Drinks?” the waiter asked. Becca took the menu he held out.
Yes. A very, very stiff drink
, she wanted to say.

“Rum and coke would be great.” She glanced around the room, taking in the greenery hanging along the windows and the long, sleek bar. Classical holiday music played at a muted volume, and a large wreath hung above the door. Beautiful. Tasteful. And all she could do was feel the nerves climb up and down her spine.

“I’ll take a Sam Adams draft,” Zane said.

The waiter nodded and left them alone, and Becca proceeded to fiddle with her napkin, her water glass and finally the menu itself.

“Hey,” Zane said.

She glanced up.

“I don’t bite.” He gave her a slow, casual grin. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

Oh, God. She looked back down at the menu.
Get a hold of yourself, Bec. He’s just a guy. You’re acting like no one has ever taken you to dinner before. He’s flirting with you. Flirt back. Do
something
back.
She licked her bottom lip and ran a finger down the menu.

“See anything you like?”

She lifted a brow.
Just you
, she wanted to say. Instead, she gave him a small smile. “I’m thinking the salmon. What about you?”

“Filet.” He closed his menu and set it aside as their drinks arrived. “I like a woman who’s not afraid to eat,” he added after the waiter had taken their orders. “I’ve been out with too many who had salad and water and though that was a meal.”

She bet he’d been out with many women, period. “I suppose it would be better if I did like salad and water, but—”

“No,” he interrupted. “You look good just the way you are, doll.”

Her face flushed. Warning bells went off in her mind—
he’s been around, he’s only looking to get laid, he disappeared after high school to shake some problems with the law
—but her body went warm and wet in a matter of seconds and didn’t listen. Instead, she rested her chin on one hand and let her gaze meet his. Let it hold his. She’d spent enough time approaching wild animals to have an idea how to tame the restless glint in their eyes.

“So you work security over at Mountain Glen?” she asked. Their salads arrived, and the distraction of food—plus another rum and coke—made it easier to talk to him like a regular human being.

He nodded. “It’s pretty boring, if you want to know the truth. But there are some million-dollar homes over there, and if they want to pay me to drive around every once in a while, or sit in a booth by the gate and check visitors’ IDs, I don’t mind.”

“Or take care of stray animals that may or may not be rabid.”

He grinned. “That too.”

“What’s the most exciting thing that’s happened to you?”

“At Mountain Glen? Or in life?”

Oh, hell
. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his answer to the second one. She could only imagine the things he’d done and seen. “Let’s start with Mountain Glen.”

Their entrees arrived, and he cut into his filet. “Let’s see…there was the time JoJo Kettering backed her minivan into the Yedziniak’s brand new fence. Or the time Wiggles the potbellied pig got loose in the pool area.” He whistled. “That almost made the local paper.”

She laughed. Good looks, a body to die for and a sense of humor to boot. No wonder women drooled over this guy.

“Actually, last summer I found a couple of teenagers banging in one of the empty houses.”

“You did not.”

He chuckled. “I did. Neither one of ’em saw me until I was right on top of ’em.” He paused with a wry grin. “No pun intended. It was pretty funny watching that poor kid try to get his pants up in record time.”

“Oh my God.” She smiled. “That is pretty funny, if you’re not that kid or his girlfriend.”

“Ah, it’ll make for a good story they both can tell in a few years.” He winked. “We all have some of those, right?”

Good stories about getting caught having sex in public places? She bet Zane had a dozen or more. She, on the other hand, had to think hard to remember the last time she’d had sex at all.

“Otherwise,” Zane went on, “it’s pretty quiet over there. Just me and another security guard.” He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll take peace and quiet.”

“You’ll get that in Pine Point, that’s for sure.” She took her last bite of salmon. “Yum. This was so good.”

“So what did you do after high school?” Zane asked as the waiter cleared their plates.

“College for four years at a little school in Connecticut.”

“You major in animal science or something?”

“Nope. Business and accounting. Kind of boring, I know.”

“Doll, I haven’t found one thing about you that’s boring yet.” His gaze seared hers, and all the lovely warmth from earlier in the evening returned tenfold.

I want this man. Now. In my bed. Or on this table. Or anywhere at all really.
Becca pressed her palms to her lap. Somehow in the last hour, she’d turned into a raging ball of hormones. Who was the animal now?

“How’d you end up working at the shelter?” he asked, as if completely unaware of his effect on her.

“I, ah…” She cleared her throat and focused on the twinkling white lights in the front window. “I volunteered there all through high school and summers during college. When I came back, they were looking for a business manager.”

“But you’re doing all the managing right now.”

“Temporarily. Until the board hires a new general manager, but that probably won’t be until after the first of the year.”

He nodded and took the check when it arrived, sliding a hundred dollar bill inside the leather folder. “Do you like it?”

“I do. Some days it breaks my heart, and I know I’ll never get rich working there…” She wondered how sappy she sounded and then decided she didn’t care. “But I feel like I make a difference, and that counts for something. At least to me. Animals can’t help themselves when they’re in trouble.” She shrugged. “But if I can help them, then it seems like I have to try.”

His eyes hadn’t left her face, except to drop to her mouth once and return to her eyes. She couldn’t read his expression. Was he bored? Amused? Marveling at how utterly naïve she sounded? Finally, he reached for her hand. “You ready to call it a night?”

She nodded, disappointed. She must have bored him, or he wouldn’t be taking her home at a quarter to nine. He held her coat and then slipped on his own and walked her to his truck. It sat by the curb, black and chrome and enormous.

“Can I ask you something?” she said as they reached the passenger side.

“Of course.”

She rubbed both arms to warm herself. “Why did you ask me out tonight?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer.
I shouldn’t have asked.
Maybe it was some crazy dare. Maybe he was regretting it now. He certainly seemed like he was regretting it now, because—

“Becca,” was all he said, and she had no more time to think before he leaned down and kissed her.

His hands went to her face, brushing the loose hair from her cheeks, and his tongue teased its way inside her mouth. A rush of sensations made her woozy, and it was all she could do not to collapse into him. As it was, he backed her into the truck, and the cold metal against her back mixed with the heat from everywhere else and filled her up. She kissed him back as if her life depended on it.

As if she’d never kissed anyone before.

As if she’d split apart in the next second, and every last inch of her was intent on holding herself together as he moved his mouth to her temple, her ear, her neck, the palm of one hand.

“You have to ask, doll?” Zane finally said when they broke apart. “I wanted to do this.” He ran one hand down the length of her front, pausing a second at her waist before trailing up again. “And this.” He leaned in again, but this time the kiss was chaste, just a peck on her cheek. “And maybe more than that next time, if it’s all right with you?”