Love and Other Things (Crystal Lake 4) - Page 1

Chapter One

Beck Jacobs was not a cat guy.

In thirty-four years of living, he couldn’t recall ever having any kind of moment with a cat. He’d always been team canine, and if life wasn’t so busy, he’d have one of his own. And not one of those small yappy things either. He’d take a shepherd like the one his pal Jack owned, or a golden retriever like Taser from next door. That animal knew when his owner needed a beer and could open the fridge and get one on his own. As far as Beck was concerned, dogs were smarter than most humans he knew.

He thought about that as he got down on his back and worked his way underneath his truck, because dogs didn’t do stupid things like hide inside the mechanics of an F-150.

The ground beneath him was snow covered, and it only took a few moments for the cold to seep through the red-and-black flannel shirt he’d pulled on over his jeans. His hair was still damp from the shower and icing up, and he’d run out so fast, he’d not bothered to button his shirt or grab a coat. With no socks in his hastily pulled on boots, it wouldn’t take long before his toes were stubs of ice.

Five minutes ago, his morning had been stellar. He’d been up early for a Sunday because he had plans to finish the trim work in the kitchen on his current remodel, a small bungalow on a ravine lot in town, and was expected at his brother’s place for dinner after a game of shinny with the guys. He downed two coffees and read the weekend paper (no online news for him) before the sun came up, and then he’d gone for a run. After a quick shower, he’d pressed the remote start on his key fob to warm up the truck while he got dressed, because damn, it was cold outside. Weather in Crystal Lake in March was iffy, and the last few days, it was a balmy thirty degrees.

He’d taken exactly two steps away from the front door when he spied a small, fluffy orange tail dangling from under the front of his truck. And now here he was, staring up at engine parts and wheel wells, looking for the little bastard.

“Where are you?” he muttered, squinting upward in the direction of a faint meow. He couldn’t see shit and should have grabbed a flashlight, which was a good idea, and he rolled back out from underneath the truck and rummaged through the toolbox in the back of it. When he had the flashlight in hand, he got into position again, and, after a few moments, spotted two small green eyes staring down at him.

Beck spent the next five minutes trying to cajole the little guy from his perch, but it was a no-go. He angled his head for a look at his watch and swore. He was late.

“Come on, you little shit,” he said under his breath as he reached his hand up, only to be rewarded by a sharp claw and a hiss.

“Excuse me. Is this a bad time?”

The voice came from nowhere and startled Beck. His body jerked, he slammed his head against metal and swore a blue streak, though he didn’t take his eyes off the kitten. He’d been so damn close.

“Are you Beck?”

He swore.

“Hello?”

“Hold on,” he all but growled, wincing as pain flared along his forehead.

“I don’t mean to bother you. I’m just—”

“Dammit, give me a minute. Does it look like I’m in the position to have a conversation?” Something dripped into his eye, most likely blood, and if looks could kill, the woman, whoever the heck she was, would be a puddle of goop in the middle of his driveway.

“You don’t need to be rude.”

“Lady, I don’t know who you are, and I sure as hell can’t see you, but I’m going to assume you have two eyes in your head. I’ve got a bit of a situation here.”

This damn cat would be the end of him.

“By all means, take care of your situation first,” the voice replied, heavy with sarcasm. Beck scowled. He was cold, pissed off, still wet from the shower, and the damn cat was playing games.

Beck glared up at the puffball, which had crawled farther up between the wheel well and the engine block. “Come on, you little bastard,” he muttered, reaching up as far as he could, shaking his head when he was rewarded with a hiss and another swipe of a tiny paw.

“Do you need help?” There was that damn voice again.

“Not from you.” he barked. Who the hell was this woman?


Tags: Juliana Stone Crystal Lake Romance
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