Page 46 of Missiletoe
Paris’s eyes went wide in surprise, and I hiccuped, “I’m sorry!” I didn’t know what I was apologizing for, but I knew I had to have done something wrong.
“Give you back? Bunny, I never want to give you back. I know I can come off slow, but nobody is slow enough to give you away once they’ve gotten you. What I meant was, can I take you tomyhome? I just…got carried away. Sometimes I say things wrong. And I didn’t mean that I’ve already gotten you. I know we just met, and that I’m moving too fast. I also know you aren’t going to move in with me right away. But you feel like home to me. Everything about you feels right.”
There was a softwoofbehind me and then a cold, doggy nose nudged my hand before giving it a quick lick.
How did Trixie get in? I knew for sure she hadn’t barreled past us to get inside. Paris and I were stuck together like glue when we got in the truck, but we still would have noticed a huge-ass dog shoving past us.
A pair of familiar mittens plopped down on my lap, and I stared at her.
“Youarea magic dog!” I gave her a hug to end all hugs. “And the best dog ever! I’m sorry I can’t give you any more attention right now because Paris, you are not slow!” I turned back to Paris and grabbed both of his hands. “You’re thoughtful and compassionate and you have a mouse army, for fuck’s sake. You’re wonderful. Too wonderful for me, I think…” I looked down at my mittens and began twisting my fingers in the material. “But I’d like to keep you anyway, if you’ll let me.”
Paris reached out and took my mittens, and like before, he warmed each of my hands before putting them on me. As he did, he said simply, “Keeping me would be a very good thing.”
“So we can go to your place? And you’re not giving me back?”
“Yes. And no, I’m not.”
“What about Sylvia?”
“She’s fine where she is for now. Don’t worry about her.”
That didn’t answer my question at all, and I was going to demand he elaborate right then and there, but his pocket began to make so much noise that I scrambled back in alarm. If Trixie had had a lap, I would have been in it. Only my seatbelt kept me from squishing her entirely.
I recognized the sound as the Red Alert sound from Star Trek.
“Crap.” Paris fumbled his phone out of his pocket. “I have to get this. Melanie only calls from this phone number when there’s an emergency at the shelter.”
Melanie? Who the fuck was Melanie??? Suddenly I had two floozies to deal with?
“A fire? Is everyone okay? Oh my god…Sylvia! I’ll be right there.” Paris dropped his phone and turned his truck on. The engine roared to life, and he pulled onto the road with a squeal of burning rubber. “I’m sorry, Vix, but we can’t go home yet. We have to get to the shelter right now. There’s been a fire. No one was hurt, but the shock might send Sylvia into labor.”
Sylvia might go into labor? What was she, Paris’s wife? She’d better not be his wife. I couldn’t murder a pregnant lady, but I was pretty sure I could manage something shady to kick her out of Paris’s life if I needed to. Melanie too.
Morality? Who’s that? I don’t know her.
Then I pulled my head out of my ass, realizing the Sylvia/Melanie problem needed to go on the back burner. “Wait, Fire? Your animals!”
Why didn’t I bring my fire suppression pellets with me? Paris was driving in the opposite direction of my house, so it would take longer to get to the shelter if we swung by to grab them.
We could always fly my car back to the shelter, but I wasn’t allowed to do that. Could Paris fly a car? I’d have to ask him. But then there was the matter of sneaking in to grab everything I needed.
That was what made me scrub the idea of going home for the pellets. There was no way my escape hadn’t been noticed at that point.
I snuck a glance at my phone and winced. Forty-seven missed calls.
Yep. They noticed.
I was glad I’d disabled tracking on my phone, or my makeout session with Paris under the gay Mecca tree would have been interrupted so hard it would have made the front page.
Paris had us at the shelter in a matter of minutes. Which made sense, I guess. If Paris had carried me from the town park to his shelter earlier, it had to have been close by.
When we pulled into the parking lot, there were two fire trucks and an ambulance there, lights flashing, and people all over the place. A police car came in behind us, and its siren was wailing so loud it made my teeth hurt.
Paris flung his door open, but instead of getting out right away, he turned to me and began to unbuckle me. Trixie pushed me toward him, but Paris frowned and didn’t help me out of the cab of his truck.
Everything was happening way too fast.
I was fully expecting Paris to ditch me and throw himself into the chaos, and I prepared myself to fall asleep for the fourth time that day. Any second, the shock of being overstimulated was going to take me right out.
