The Trouble with Mistletoe

Buddy, always unable to resist food of any kind, crab-crawled his way out from beneath the shelf and very cautiously took the treat.

Willa gently pulled him into her body and cuddled him close, kissing him on top of his bony head. “You poor, silly baby.” She craned her neck and eyed Rory’s finger, which was bleeding profusely. “How bad?”

“I’m fine,” she said and headed to the sink.

Willa had to believe that, at least for the moment while she dealt with Lyndie and the suspicions that had been churning in her own gut. “When did you get here?”

Lyndie sucked on her lower lip and exchanged a glance with Rory.

Willa bit back a sigh. She’d thought they were past this. “Lyndie,” she said quietly, gently. “I know you slept here last night. I know you sleep here when you need to.”

“No,” she said, the denial instantly defensive. “I—”

“Stop,” Willa said in that same calm voice. No judgment. No censure. Because she, more than anyone, understood the need to get out of a bad situation and yet have no safe place to go. “I want you to feel safe here. But on the nights you need a place to sleep, you just have to let me know. I’ve got a couch four flights up that’s far better than the floor of this wash room. Ask Rory, she slept there on and off her entire first year with me.”

Rory nodded. “She makes cinnamon toast late at night when you can’t sleep and we watch Netflix.”

Lyndie stared at Willa for a long beat and then swallowed hard. “You’d let me sleep in your apartment?”

“Yes,” Willa said. “But there’s something that I won’t let you do. And that’s steal from the till.”

Lyndie’s eyes shuttered. “I didn’t steal anything.” She backed up to the door. “You can call the cops but you can’t keep me here to wait for them—”

“I’m not calling the cops,” Willa said and rose to her feet. “I need you to listen to me, Lyndie, and really hear what I’m saying, okay? I love having you as an employee, I love how you treat the animals, but no one’s holding you against your will. More than that, I don’t want anyone here who doesn’t want to be here, and I won’t allow anyone to take advantage of me. Rory, what’s my policy on stealing?” she asked without taking her eyes off Lyndie.

Rory had washed out her finger and was wrapping it in a paper towel to stanch the bleeding. “Two strikes and you’re out.”

“And why isn’t it three?” Willa asked.

“Because you were born early and without patience,” Rory recited.

Willa nodded. “Do you get what I’m telling you?” she asked Lyndie.

The girl swallowed hard. “I’ve had my first strike.”

“You’ve had your first strike,” Willa agreed. She was firm on that, always. Boundaries mattered with the animals and boundaries mattered with the kids as well.

“I’m sorry,” Lyndie whispered.

“Thank you, and I know. But we both deserve better, okay?”

Lyndie nodded and Willa moved to the grooming station with Buddy. “You two go out front and take care of customers. I’ve got Buddy.”

When they were gone, she cooed to the scared cat, “And you, you adorable little beast. Let’s make some magic together.”

“How about me, want to make some magic with me too?” asked an unbearably familiar, low, and sexy voice from behind her.

Keane, of course, because who else could make her heart leap into her throat and her nipples go hard while everything inside her went soft at the same time?

Chapter 17

#ReadMyLips

Keane was amused that he’d rendered Willa speechless.

For once.

But there was no getting around the fact that she didn’t exactly look happy to see him. Moving toward her, he picked up the comb she’d dropped and handed it to her, holding on to it until she met his gaze. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said back. At first, she’d looked a little bit like a deer in the headlights, but now she was closing herself off, right before his very eyes.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes, just busy, so—”

“Not so busy at all!” Rory had stuck her head in the door and was grinning like a loon. “Lyndie and I’ve got it all handled out here so you two just”—she smiled guilelessly—“make magic or something.”

And then she was gone.

“She’s match-making,” Willa muttered. “I was very busy having a moment with them and now they’re match-making.”

“Want to talk about that moment you were having?” he asked. “Seemed serious.”

“I’ve got it handled.”

She always did. She was good at that, handling whatever came her way. “Okay, then let’s talk about how even your employees can see how much you like me,” he said.

She rolled her eyes at that, which made him laugh. He moved in and let his mouth brush her ear. “You telling me that you didn’t have a good time last night?”

As close as he was, he felt the tremor go through her but before he could pull her in, she stepped free and glared at him. “Stop using your sex voice,” she said, hugging herself. “And you know I had a good time.” She hesitated, looking around like maybe she was making sure no one could hear them. “Twice,” she whispered.

He burst out laughing. “You mean three times.”

She stared at him. “You were counting?” she asked in disbelief.

“Of course not. Didn’t have to.” He leaned in. “And anyway, we both know it was four.”

She pointed at him. “And that. That’s why we’re not doing it again. Because you want to talk about it. And I don’t.”

He caught her when she would’ve moved away. “We really not going to do that again?”

“One night,” she said softly, holding his gaze. “You agreed. No strings attached. You agreed to that too.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “I might’ve been premature.”

She choked out a laugh. “Now that’s one thing you weren’t . . .” She shook her head when he snorted. “I think we both know that we’re better off as friends, Keane.”