Get Bunny Love (22 page)

The man glared at the Goodloes, scrutinizing their adversarial stance. “Will they survive adjoining rooms?”

Bunny peered at the couple, now standing with their backs to each other. Poindexter sat between the two, looking from one backside to the other.

“There’s a lot of love left in their energy,” Bunny explained. “This could be good for them.”

A few moments later, she handed the Goodloes their card keys. “You’ll have a door between your rooms,” she explained. “Poindexter will be able to come and go as he pleases. Joint custody for the weekend. Fair enough?”

“Thank you.” Mitsi extended her hand. She allowed herself a tight smile.

“Anytime.” Bunny patted Poindexter’s head. “Good luck this weekend, buddy.” She glanced back at the dog’s owners. “Remember, a little decorum never hurt anyone.”

She shuddered as she turned back toward the registration counter.
Decorum
? When had that word slipped into her vocabulary?

The spot where the manager had stood holding Chablis and Chardonnay was empty. He was nowhere in sight.
They
were nowhere in sight. Bunny’s heart fell to her toes. They might be two little pains in the derriere, but she hadn’t set out to lose them—at least not intentionally.

Sharp yapping sounded from the opposite side of the lobby. The two had cornered a motorcycle. The gang must have wheeled in a bike, and the duo of terror had chosen the pristine machine as their next target. Just beyond them, a large German Shepherd sat still as a statue, watching the poodles charge and bounce off the motorcycle’s tires.

Bunny cleared her throat. The poodles paused for a beat. Chablis turned to ponder Bunny over her tiny furry shoulder. Bunny crooked a finger then cleared her throat again. “Now!” she ground out through clenched teeth.

The poodles came scurrying. Bunny gathered their leashes in her hand, glancing quickly to where they had been, hoping no damage had been done to the motorcycle. A small, yellow puddle sat just next to the bike’s rear tire. Cripes.

She leaned over the counter, frantically looking for help. “I need a little cleanup.” She glanced to where the leather-clad bikers gathered mere feet from the poodles’ indiscretion, then back to the counter. “Mr. Quigley? Anyone?”

“Hell!” a very loud, very mad, male voice bellowed. “Someone’s dog took a piss on my Indian.”

Bunny flinched. “Anyone?” Swallowing down her fear, she turned slowly, only to find herself nose to snap with a massive leather-covered chest.

o0o

Nate blew out a frustrated breath, wondering if the cabbie could drive any slower. “Buddy, I’m in a rush here.”

The driver shot a threatening look in the rearview mirror.

“Listen, bud.” The cabbie’s voice was clipped and angry. “You’ll get there when you get there. What do you want me to do, sprout wings and fly?” He gestured out the window. A sea of red brake lights clogged the Parkway.

“How long until we get to the Loews?”

“Five minutes. Twenty minutes. An hour. Who knows?”

“Thanks for nothing,” Nate muttered.

“What’s that?”

“I said, I’m smothering. Mind if I roll down a window?”

“Suit yourself, mack.”

Nate cranked a window open, glaring at the non-ending mass of autos. He should have hopped on the subway. Hell, he should have walked. A horn blared in the distance. Loud swearing followed. “How many blocks from here to the Loews?”

“No idea.”

“You’re a real wealth of information.” Nate pulled his wallet from his pocket. He couldn’t sit still a moment longer. “How much do I owe you?”

“Seven fifty.”

“For sitting in one spot for fifteen minutes?”

The driver threw an arm up in the air. “Hey, buddy, you don’t like it, you should get out of the city.”

“Thanks.” Nate tossed the guy a ten. “Keep the change.”

“Gee, I’ll try not to spend it all in one place.”

Nate shook his head, climbing out into the stalled traffic. He beelined toward the sidewalk, setting off in a quick clip toward the Loews.

His first day back to work was going beautifully. Bunny Love and two poodles had hijacked his car. His staff had launched a mutinous bunny slipper revolt. And now, he had to mediate an altercation among dog people. He groaned. Amazingly enough, all of his troubles shared a common thread.

Bunny Love.

He snarled and picked up his pace. A little feng shui may have never hurt anyone, but one thing was certain. When Nate got his hands on the woman, he’d strangle her with her own positive chi.

o0o

“Did your dog piss on my bike?”

Bunny tipped up her chin to meet the man’s angry gaze. His dark gray eyes glittered from beneath two furry brows. She grimaced. He rubbed his full, gray beard and groaned. “Lady, I asked if your dog pissed on my bike.”

“Well...” Bunny stalled for time, hoping the desk clerk would magically appear with a roll of paper towels. “She didn’t actually piss on your bike. She pissed next to your bike. And to be honest, I believe her disrespect may have been directed toward your dog.”

A low laugh rumbled its way from the man’s stomach to his massive shoulders. His features broke into a wide grin. He slapped Bunny’s shoulder, sending her flying into the counter. Leaning back toward his group, he shouted, “Bertha, grab the doggie wipes, would ya?”

Bunny blinked. A petite leather-clad woman nodded, pulling a package of wipes from her leather fanny pack.

“Sorry,” Bunny whispered. “I feel just terrible.”

“Hey,” the burly man shrugged, “piss happens.” He waggled his brow. He looked down at Chablis and Chardonnay who stood analyzing his leather boots, probably wondering if their fangs were big enough to take on the monstrosities. “Are these Teacups? Beautiful.” He squatted down and the girls froze mid-sniff. “Hey little ladies.” He adopted the tone of voice most people reserved for infants and toddlers. “How are you?”

To Bunny’s dismay, Chablis launched into a beard-licking frenzy. Chardonnay shimmied into a butt-wiggle dance. The man looked up at Bunny, who stood stunned by the surreal scene. “Don’t tell me,” he said. “You’re the event planner.”

Surprise flittered through her. “How did you know that?”

He turned his attention back to the poodles. “I can see it in your aura.”

Bunny gasped. “You read auras?”

“Actually, I saw your picture in the paper.”

Bunny’s mouth gaped open. The man howled with rich laughter. “Jimmy Monroe.” He thrust out a hand.

“Bunny Love.” The force of his shake bounced her feet off the floor. “You’re not related to the-”

“Jimmy!”

Bunny flinched. She’d know Lovey Monroe’s high-pitched squeal anywhere. Jimmy rose to his feet and lumbered away. Chablis and Chardonnay scrambled to follow their new best friend, succeeding only in wrapping their leashes tighter around Bunny’s ankles.

She watched in open-mouthed amazement as Jimmy swept Lovey Monroe off her feet. Thurston patted the man’s broad shoulder, his smile genuine and wide. Bunny shuffled toward the three.
This
, she was not going to miss. “Thurston and Lovey,” she called out.

Thurston’s features fell slack. “Bunny,” he snarled.

“I see you’ve met our Jimmy.” Lovey now stood firmly on the marble floor. “The apple of my eye.”

Giant of her eye was more like it. There was no way this huge, bearded, bike-loving man had come out of tiny, blue-blood Lovey Monroe’s womb. And Jimmy was far too kind to share
any
blood with Thurston.

“This is my son, Jimmy,” Lovey cooed. “From my first marriage.”

Thurston mumbled something incoherent then smiled. Bunny began to wonder if poor enunciation was the country club method for venting frustration. Her eyes had glazed over five minutes later, partway into Lovey’s dissertation on Jimmy’s German Shepherd breeding.

She couldn’t help but notice Thurston had taken on a dazed appearance of his own. He caught her scrutinizing his features and frowned. Bunny straightened. She’d show him. Come Monday she’d own her apartment. Then he’d be stuck with her. Permanently. She chuckled to herself.

“Well, it’s not funny, dear,” Lovey admonished. “It’s quite serious work.”

Bunny winced. “Pardon me. I was thinking of something else.” She smiled. “A million things to do before tomorrow night.”

“How about a cup of chamomile tea for everyone?” Jimmy asked. He waved to Bertha, who approached the small group, doggie wipes at the ready.

Bunny squinted at Jimmy’s bushy beard, leather cap, and studded leather vest. Chamomile tea? Was this guy for real? “I’d love to,” she said, slowly stepping away from the odd grouping. “But I need to get back to work.”

“Here, dear.” Bertha handed Bunny the container of wipes. “In case you need them again.”

Chablis and Chardonnay strained at their collars, locked in a stare down with a newly arrived Rottweiler. The massive dog snorted, then turned away. The poodles snarled and snapped.

“What is it with you two?” Bunny quipped. “You’ve got a Napoleon complex or something?” She yanked at their leads as she waved good-bye to the Monroes, Jimmy and Bertha.

She had just started the ignition when she realized she didn’t have her purse. She lowered the windows for air and climbed out. “Be right back, girls. Try not to eat anything.”

She dashed into the lobby, found her purse sitting on the registration counter and sprinted back to Nate’s car. Chablis had managed to climb into the driver’s seat and stood with her front paws on the steering wheel. Bunny pulled on the handle, but the doors were locked. Little furry menaces.

She squeezed her arm through the narrow opening, doing her best to shoo the fur ball into the backseat as she struggled to reach the lock. “Off. Get in the back. Now. Heel.”

The poodle launched herself in a snarling fit directed at Bunny’s arm.

“It’s me, you idiot. The one who’s tolerated your attitude all day. Be nice to me.”

With that, Chablis jumped back onto the center console. Searing pain shot through Bunny’s arm as the window slid closed, wedging her arm between the glass and doorframe.

She let loose a shriek that sent Chablis diving into the passenger seat. She yelled for help, doing her best to breathe through the pain. Could this day possibly get any worse?

“What in the hell have you done?”

Ice-cold fear seeped through Bunny’s bones.

Nate sounded intent on murder.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Bunny stood trapped, one arm wedged in the window. “Not...my...fault,” she squeezed the words through gritted teeth. “Her fault.” She glared at one fuzzy ball of fluff, sitting on the passenger seat.

“Hang on.” Nate dashed to the passenger side, reaching in to unlock the door. One sharp glare sent Chablis hurtling into the backseat, where Chardonnay cowered next to a small puddle. Nate grimaced. His
car
. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that’s positive energy?”

Bunny shook her head. “Sorry.”

Nate reached across the seat to press the down button, releasing Bunny’s arm. He scrambled to where she stood, rubbing the inside of her upper arm. “Let me see.” Genuine concern had tempered his anger.

Bright pink fired in Bunny’s cheeks. “Things are under control here.” Her voice dropped. “Honest.” She rotated her arm to expose the inside. A sharp line of purple marred the delicate skin.

Nate reflexively reached to touch the bruising. Awareness rippled through him as he met Bunny’s vivid gaze.

She nonchalantly shrugged, although the color in her cheeks grew deeper. “I’m okay.”

“Shouldn’t have given you the damn car.”

Her pert features twisted into a frown. “I drove your car just fine.”

Nate peered into the driver’s side. Several CDs lay strewn across the floor, half-chewed. The corner of the passenger seat appeared ripped, and there was the puddle. “I can see that.”

“I’ll pay for everything.” Bunny’s voice had grown timid, a definite change for her. “And I’ll clean that up.” She pulled a small container from the floor well and opened the rear door. The poodle demons maintained their cowardly positions. One dared a peek at Nate. He snarled and the fur ball ducked her head. “They don’t mean to be destructive,” Bunny said defensively.

“Yes they do.” Nate nodded. “It’s what they live for.”

She wiped the backseat, the motion sending her body into a wiggle and Nate’s thoughts back to the first time Bunny’s path had crossed his own. Her interview. Heat raced through him, much as it had then. All thoughts of damaged leather, ruined CDs and stripped gears flew out of his brain with one simple, alluring wiggle.

“You sure you’re all right?” He mentally berated himself at the sound of his thick voice.

Bunny straightened, grinning. “All in a day’s work.” Her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “We...ah...I need to get to the Convention Center.”

Dread tickled Nate’s gut. “Why?”

She pasted on a phony smile. “No reason. I wanted to check on the setup.” She shrugged unconvincingly.

Nate narrowed his eyes, his newly found intuition screaming. “I’m not buying it.”

Bunny sighed visibly then planted one fist on her hip. “There may be a small issue with Armand.”

“Issue?”

“When I went to pick up the leads for the show, the warehouse manager told me Armand had already picked them up.”

Nate did nothing more than raise a brow.

“Exactly,” Bunny said. “That can’t be good.”

“I’ll drive.” He jerked a thumb toward the hotel entrance. “What about the problem here?”

She smiled. “All taken care of. I know what I’m doing.”

He scowled, and Bunny scampered around to the passenger side. She slammed her door, glancing at Nate, who’d dropped into the driver’s seat and stared at the handset of his phone.

“Are those tooth marks?”

“Dinosaur.”

He peered at her suspiciously. “The tooth marks?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “The phone.”

“I
like
the dinosaur.”

She shook her head, fastening her seat belt. “No kidding.”

o0o

Bunny watched Nate’s profile as he drove. She massaged the underneath of her arm, longing to let out a yelp. It hurt like heck. Maybe Nate would rub it again. She looked at the window, waggling her eyebrows. His touch had felt...
hot
.