Love Is in the Air (95 page)

Chuckling, Regina slid under the covers, not even bothering to get undressed. She patted the pillow next to her and Hurricane plopped his head down just like a human would. Snuggling up against the soft fur, Regina put her arm around the Labrador’s neck. Fury looked up a bit anxiously. Usually, Regina would kick the Doberman out to Michael’s room.

“It’s okay, girl. You can stay here.”

Fury burrowed in even more snugly and let out a sigh of relief. Burying her face in Hurricane’s thick fur, Regina realized that she would need to get Michael another dog. It looked like these two would be sleeping with her until further notice. That was until Quinton could occupy his rightful place in her life. Side by side.

* * *

Quinton had finally collapsed on the stiff cot as the moon rose far enough to spill light into his cell. It brought shadows and texture to an otherwise sterile environment. He was finding it harder and harder to stay upset. His mind kept touching on Regina, and his body could still remember the feel of her skin. Best of all, Quinton realized, he had come clean. Come to clean to Regina, to Ralph, and to his family. The burden of living such a lie was finally lifted. Quinton still felt the weight of jail on his shoulders, but it was far lighter than the burden he had placed there himself.

It was ironic, really. They had put him behind bars, but it was here that he realized what freedom truly was. Quinton knew he did not turn himself in solely for Regina or Michael. He had really done it for himself. There was only so much redemption you could obtain through words. The type Quinton needed could only be achieved through action. If that cost him a few months or even a few years in jail, then so be it. Quinton knew that he should have served time long ago for transgressions long past.

In this act of giving himself over to the authorities, he was purging himself of both old and new crimes alike. He wanted his future untarnished by the mistakes of that life. Quinton was neither an ecoterrorist nor a corporate turncoat. It took this cold cell with its smelly urinal to teach him that. There were other ways to make a living and help the environment. He no longer had to live his life in the extremes anymore. It was nice, even in Crow’s Landing’s jail, to just be himself.

Briefly, Quinton wondered what Regina was doing, but he did not dwell on it. The memory of their one night together was strong enough to carry him through until he saw her again. Regina’s promise still caressed his ear. Quinton could take whatever trials lay ahead as long as she was waiting for him on the other side.

While looking up through the barred window, Quinton noticed that the red glow was fading from the sky, and the smoke seemed to be letting up. They must have gotten the fire out. The commotion outside died down, and you could hear the crickets again. Satisfied, Quinton shut his eyes and listened to the soft night sounds.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad night to be in jail.

And an even better night to be in love.

Pet Whisperer…er…rrr

Book 1 in the Animal’s Talk Back Series

CHAPTER 1

Wyatt Stampley leapt up onto the coffee table, fleeing for his life. Well, at least fleeing for the life of his ankle. His attacker growled at the base of the table, all teeth and menace.

Granted his opponent weighed four pounds. Granted his opponent stood only six inches tall. Granted his opponent was a teacup breed. That did nothing to take away from the snarling, gnashing set of teeth ready to taste Wyatt’s flesh. He knew his opponent’s true nature. He faced not a dog, but a land shark.

A thirty one year old man should not have to be hiding on top of a coffee table from a dog. Okay, a thirty one year old man shouldn’t have to hiding from anything on top of a coffee table, but certainly not a dog. But yet here he was searching for an escape route from the jaws of the devil beast.

“Yeah, um, Uncle Bodhi?” he called out, but no answer came. “Could you like, save my life?”

“Just a moment,” the muffled response came from the kitchen. “I’m getting my ice pack.”

Ice pack? There were like a dozen of them in there. Bodhi’s trip to the kitchen should have been a grab and go. What could possibly be taking Bodhi so long? The apartment was what leasing ads called “cozy.” It might as well have been a studio with a couple of walk-in closets that some overambitious real estate agent had decided to label bedrooms. There was barely room to turn around, much less travel from end to end. Bodhi could have come to Wyatt’s rescue in a heartbeat.

The Chihuahua though, the Chihuahua was pleased that Bodhi was distracted. More than enough time for Diablo hatch his evil, evil plan. Never was a Chihuahua more aptly named. If you squinted, his perky ears almost looked like horns.

“I’m telling you, he’s getting ready to lunge!” Wyatt yelled, hoping to hurry his uncle along. “He’s tightening those haunches!”

Oh, to weigh so little and have such power. The coffee table wouldn’t be safe for long. Not with that glint in Diablo’s eyes. Wyatt had seen it before. And had the scars to prove it. He feinted to the side, hoping to catch the ravening beast off his guard. Diablo was not fooled for even a millisecond.

“Those rippling muscles!” Wyatt informed his uncle as Diablo’s growling hit a crescendo. Wyatt changed his audience to the uncaring universe. “This isn’t happening!”

Diablo jumped, hitting the coffee table chest high. His long nails dug into the faux wood surface, trying to pull himself onto the table. Wyatt scrambled back from the fury of the beast. Luckily gravity kicked in, sending Diablo back to the floor. But Wyatt knew that an anger like that only grew when thwarted.

Bodhi shuffled into the room. His shoulder-length hair was half in and half out of a loose ponytail. The guy used to be salt and pepper but now was more like salt, hold the pepper. Worse one side of his once grand mane was plastered to his head from a defrosting ice pack.

“Oh, let him have his fun,” Bodhi mumbled.

“Fun?” Wyatt asked, incredulous. “Fun?”

But Bodhi winced as he sat down in his well-worn recliner, placing the new ice pack over his eyes. “He’s just a little Chihuahua.”

Okay, Bodhi might be having a bad migraine, but deeming Diablo as anything but a demon’s spawn was akin to heresy. Still, Wyatt kept his voice down. “For the last two months I’ve slept with one eye open. The Viszine alone is costing more than I make.”

Diablo barked.

“It
does
so,” Wyatt said, glaring into those beady little eyes.

Well, that was the clearly the wrong thing to do as Diablo ran along the edge of the table trying to snag the edge of Wyatt’s frayed jean hems. Was there no depth to which this dog would not sink? Dashing across the table, Wyatt tried to find a safe haven, but the Chihuahua was relentless.

“Bodhi, you know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Dang it. Diablo had him by Wyatt’s very fashionable hem. Wyatt tried to pull his leg back, but the Chihuahua clamped harder as he was lifted from the ground.

Oh no, you don’t,
Wyatt thought. He was not about to help Diablo scale the table. Wyatt shook his leg but that only made his opponent growl all the more. Forget teacup Chihuahua, this was a teacup Pit Bull.

“Um, Bodhi, I don’t think this pet communicator apprenticeship is the gig I was hoping for.” Wyatt shook even harder, finally dislodging Diablo’s death grip and a good chunk of Wyatt’s hem. The little dog landed on his feet though, clearly ready for round two. “I mean, Bodhi, you promised me chicks.”

His uncle’s lips turned up in a faint smile, “And I delivered them right to you.”

“Not baby
chickens
!” Wyatt argued. “I was talking about chicks, babes, dolls. Whatever your generation called them.”

“We called them
women
and didn’t use tricks to get to know them,” Bodhi said sighing as he readjusted the ice pack over his eyes.

“Yeah, well,” Wyatt said as he tried to think of a really awesome come back. When that failed, he moved on. “I just don’t think I’m cut out for this pet whispering thing.”

“That’s not what you said after your mother finally kicked you out of the house.”

Kicked? Kicked? For a moment Wyatt scrambled for a come back. Bodhi had
not
, just said that. If it had not been for Diablo making another run at his hem, Wyatt might have just stood there slack-jawed while he absorbed the shock. As it turned out, Wyatt needed to dance on the tabletop to keep those vicious fangs from finding their purchase again.

“I will have you know, there was no kicking!” Wyatt countered. “I walked. I
strode
out of there.” Balancing on the edge of the table he continued. “A man’s gotta take a stand. I drew a line in the sand and she crossed it.”

Bodhi moved the ice pack from his eye and glanced to Wyatt. “Over the laundry?”

“She wants me to be more ambitious,” Wyatt said puffing out his chest until he almost tipped over and had to rush to the other side of the coffee table to avoid Diablo’s lightning fast counterstrike.

“‘Get a
job
. Get a
career
,’” Wyatt repeated in his mother’s lecturing tone, but Bodhi shifted in his seat letting out a low moan so Wyatt rushed on, “If that’s what she wanted me to do, then she needed to let me decide if I preferred silky smooth fabric softener or those crappy anti-static sheets.”

Covering his eye again with the ice pack, Bodhi sank deeper into his chair. “The poor woman was late to work waiting for the rinse cycle every morning.”

“What was she so worried about?” Wyatt admonished. “She’s the manager of the branch. They can’t get started without her. She’s got the
key
.”

“Yes, I believe that was the problem.”

“Hey!” Wyatt exclaimed to his uncle but then stopped stopped his soft shoe routine abruptly. Where was the dog? Wyatt peered over the table. Diablo had vanished. No growling. No barking. No gnashing. This had to be a trap. One that Wyatt was not about to fall into. Staying in the “green zone” of the coffee table, Wyatt turned his attention back to the argument.

“Bodhi, whose side are you on anyways?”

His uncle sighed deeply rubbing his temples. “I’m on the side of you going to the Perfectly Pets event for me.”

“You mean ‘speed-whispering?’” Wyatt snorted. “And wait a minute. Going
for
you? What happened to going
with
you?”

“This migraine isn’t letting go,” his uncle said.

“Perfect! We can both take the day off!”

This was the best idea his uncle had come up with since…well since forever. Now if he could just find Diablo and send him back through the Hell gate he came through…

“We can’t miss this event,” Bodhi explained. “It’s where I get eighty percent of my clients for the year.”

Wyatt got down on his hands and knees, trying to peer under the table as he tried to talk his uncle out of the worst idea since…well since forever.

“All the more reason for me not to go! They are never going to—”

Like a flash of canine lightening, Diablo flew out from behind the couch, snapping all the way. Wyatt flung himself backwards, nearly knocking himself out on the lamp. His feet scrambled to keep him on the table. Once he was done shrieking, Wyatt tried to make his uncle understand what an immensely awful idea this was. This whole multi-tasking thing was not really working all that well for him.

“Just smell that breath! Brimstone I tell ya!” Wyatt said pointing at Diablo’s set of finely pointed teeth. “And that’s just
your
pet. Then there’s all the birds with their cries and fluttering. And the cats! The claws. They just don’t like me.”

“I can’t imagine why…” Bodhi responded.

Oh, Wyatt wasn’t going to let that slide. The next thing you knew Bodhi would be asking him to get a haircut, just like his mom. But his uncle spoke over Wyatt’s stammered protests. “Do this one thing for me and I will let you quit.”

“
Let
me?” Wyatt asked. Oh, now Bodhi really was sounding like his mother. And if he walked away from the woman who cooked him racecar shaped pancakes every morning, he could walk away from Bodhi so fast his head would spin.
Let me
. “I will have you know that—”

“And,” Bodhi emphasized. “I will forgive that little ‘
loan’
you took from my wallet.”

Wyatt stopped his frantic efforts to keep his jeans unmolested and possibly for the first time in his life was speechless. Bodhi wasn’t supposed to have known about that. The card game last night really should have turned out a whole heck of a lot differently than it did. I mean, how could he not win a game named five-card stud?

“I swear that I was going to replace—”

Bodhi removed the ice pack from his eyes and locked eyes with Wyatt. “Go to the Perfectly Pets event for your poor old uncle?”

Dang his elders. They knew exactly which strings to pull. He couldn’t let his uncle down. Not after he’d taken him in. Not after he was willing to forget that unapproved loan.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever,” Wyatt conceded with an audible sigh.

Bodhi nodded then rose with a creak. Wyatt watched as his uncle shuffled off into his bedroom. But wait. Hold on a second.