You've Got Tail (9 page)

“Seriously though, Ms. Haddock.”

Who wasn't being serious? I certainly was. Jumbo-sized serious. “What now?” I whined.

“There's a big storm coming in tonight. Talk of tornadoes and such. They can come on mighty quickly and without warning. So best to stay in and lock your doors and windows.”

“Huh?”

“You know.” He whistled and twirled his finger around in the air. “Tornadoes.”

Tornadoes? I'd heard of tornadoes in the Midwest, but hadn't given them a second thought when I'd moved out here. But I was a Cali girl. I'd suffered tremors and the threat of earthquakes. Surely I could take on big, swirling, monstrous funnel clouds of death.

Oh my God! What was I thinking?

Funnel clouds of death.

Great. Like there wasn't enough shit already. “Hmm. So, like out of nowhere. Bang! I could be in Kansas sitting on top of some old batty chick wearing red slippers?”

He nodded somberly. “Yep.”

“Well, screw me blue.”

“I'm a married man, Ms. Haddock.”

To say I was shocked wouldn't do my reaction justice. “I…”

The corner of his mouth quirked again. These country folk could deadpan humor with the best of them. “So you'll stay in tonight?”

“Uh, yeah. I can manage that.”

He looked so damned relieved, I got a warm-fuzzy. Someone in this town cared about my well-being. Then another thought struck me. “If a tornado hits, where do I go? What do I do?” Crap! I didn't have a basement or anything. There was a crawlspace, but how many other things would I be sharing it with? Spiders? Snakes? What other godforsaken creepy-crawlies?

He seemed to chew on his response for a moment before he answered. “Well, if you hear the sirens, just head on over to the courthouse. It has an underground shelter for folks without basements.”

“Okay, I can get there.” But could I get there fast enough? I wondered just how quick adrenaline would carry me if a violent wind chased after me.

“I'm not saying it's going to happen.” He shrugged. “Just in case, though, stay in.”

“Cool. Got it. Fantastic. Thanks for the warning,” I mumbled, not thankful at all. The threat of bad weather seemed like one more way for this town to try to get rid of me. If I woke up in Kansas in the morning with my place on top of some wayward witch, I was going to be pissed.

Sheriff Taylor patted me on the shoulder and my eyes rolled back. A large banded raccoon hissed, eyes flashing as it leapt into the air on the attack.

I shrieked, stumbling back. When my ass bumped against the counter, and no actual animal landed on my head, I peeked out from behind my sheltering arm. The sheriff was staring at me as if I was crazy. He acted like he hadn't ever seen a woman scared witless by a vision. Imagine that.

“I'm fine.” I waved my hand. “I thought I saw a bee.” Lame, but whatever.

“O-kee. Well…” He dragged out the “well” like a man who recognized crazy. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

I didn't know what was wrong with me. I mean, psychic shit happens, but not on a daily basis, and not over and over with crap that didn't make any sense to me. Not to be self-aggrandizing, but my visions were
usually
about me. Not generally helpful, but not so puzzling either.

After the sheriff left, Babel entered. It was like a rotating friggin' door. I sighed and tried really hard to leave out the lusty shudder. It should be illegal for a man to look that savagely good.

“What do you want?” I meant to say hello, really, but that's what came out instead.

He scratched his chin, his face full of apprehension. Or maybe annoyance. Or maybe he was just constipated. “I guess you've been told about the storm?”

I guessed he needed more fiber in his diet. “Yeah, yeah, swirling winds of doom. I got the message.”

“Good. Just making sure.”

He licked his lips and my knees knocked. I scolded them profusely then wondered how horrible it would be if I used Babel for courage-building boinking?

As if he could read my mind, he arched a brow and grinned.

“Uh-uh.” Shaking my head, I absently dusted the already-clean counter. My body may have wanted the quick roll, but my common sense knew better. “Did you need something?”

He moved closer and I could smell his cologne. Eau de Hubba-Hubba. “I think it's clean.” His voice had deepened an octave—his tone like aural sex—and my stomach went tight.

His wild, shoulder-length, thick, thick hair made me want to grab a fistful and yell, “Say my name, bitch!” I resisted the urge and focused on scrubbing harder, but I couldn't deny myself a sneak peek at his crystal-blue pools most people would call his eyes. And there it was, that spark, that leap, that…electricity. “It's clean when I say it's clean. I'd hate for someone to get skewered by a dirty piece of counter during the coming storm.”

My skin shivered with excitement when he turned me in his arms and pressed his lips hard against mine. I tried not to respond.

Impossible.

I melted into the kiss, my fingers tangling in his soft mane. So much softer than I could have imagined. Mental note: Ask the man taking liberties with me what conditioner he uses.

Every joint in my body felt as if it had come unhinged and I grasped at him to keep tucked in tight to his wide, muscular chest. All thought drained from my head as his hands kneaded my back. By the time his lips left mine, I felt all wonky and loose. “What the heck was that for?”

“Keep yourself safe tonight,” he murmured, reluctantly releasing me from his embrace.

The bell sounded again, and like boxers ending a round, we moved quickly apart. Neville Lutjen, mayor extraordinaire and total cock-blocker, walked into my little establishment. Jeezus. I hope I got this much traffic when we actually opened.

“Nice day, Ms. Haddock,” he said, giving a nod of acknowledgement to Babel, who nodded back. Even though it was a Friday, Neville wore what appeared to be his Sunday best—tan slacks, blue blazer, light cream-colored shirt, with a blue and brown striped tie. “Just stopped by to check in.”

Isolated with the two men, I noticed a similar raw chemistry. Even if Neville was a bit older, he didn't look as though he'd wasted a moment of his youth, or that he couldn't still hold his own with anyone half his age.

“Hi, Mayor Lutjen.”

I smiled. Babel snarled. Lutjen grinned.

I grabbed a broom from the corner and started sweeping, and let me tell you, I don't even like cleaning. That's how desperate I felt. If the testosterone got any thicker, I'd be growing a full beard soon.

The mayor's bright-green eyes twinkled, easy laugh lines creasing the outer edges. “Like I said, I'm just checking to see if you're settling in okay.” His voice had a lyrical quality. Charming, very charming. I didn't trust charming men. “I like to converse with the new business owners.” His gaze traveled to my breasts. “See if there's anything I can do to help you adjust.”

I had the feeling he could “adjust” me just fine if I had been interested, but all I could think about was the possessive press of Babel's lips on mine. The memory made me smile. I stared at Neville. “Oh, it's all good.” Other than the fact that my best friend was missing and no one seemed to care. Oh, and everyone seemed to want me out. Other than that, perfect. Although, I couldn't help but feel a little warmer toward the town's leader for offering to help. Even if his offer had slightly lecherous overtones.

“You know, I could use some help getting a certificate of occupancy and whatever other permits I need.” Chavvah and I had talked about that several weeks earlier. She'd said she'd been having trouble getting the permits. Maybe Neville's weird need to suddenly “help” could come in handy. “I'd like to get the business open within the next month or so, once Chav turns up. Have you heard anything about where she might be?”

Inadvertently, I looked over at Babel. He was staring at Neville. His face unreadable. Hmm.

“No.” He cleared his throat. “I barely know Chavvah. Why would I have heard anything?”

“Oh, I just meant with you being the mayor and all, you might get notes or something from the Sherriff's department.”

“It doesn't work that way, Ms. Haddock.” His sour face turned to an instantly bright and sincere-appearing smile.
Politicians. Ick.
“I'm sure she'll show up. And, I'll let Sheila Murphy know that you'll be in sometime in the next week. She's my assistant, and can help you get the paperwork started.”

No! Not Sheila. Well, at least the mayor thought I'd be around another week. How refreshing. I gave Neville a small yet triumphant smile, then turned a glare toward Babel to say, “hah!” But immediately softened, my mind and oh so many lower things in my body going back to the kiss.

Neville sniffed the air. Something I'd noticed more than one citizen of this fair town had a habit of doing. His smile became slightly lurid, much to my discomfort. Babel's lip curled into a snarl again. Territorial much? Both men exchanged heated glances, and I thought I was going to have to start snapping my fingers to break the tension.

“Hello?” Startled, they turned their interest to me. “Thank you both for coming to check on my welfare. Mucho appreciated. But I've got some hatches to batten down and all that good stuff. So, unless you want to help…”

Neville cleared his throat. “I have a few appointments this afternoon, or I surely would, Ms. Haddock. I'm half-tempted to cancel but it wouldn't be good business.” He certainly knew how to sound sincere—a good politician, if not a bit indolent.

“I'll stay,” Babel said tersely.

I wasn't sure how good an idea that'd be, but I didn't argue considering I wasn't quite sure what battening entailed.

In short time, we'd gotten all the safety precautions taken care of with the exception of the windows above the door.

I breathed a heavy sigh and tried to find something high enough to stand on so I could reach the upper window on the wall. The shutters would need closing, just in case. I moved a chair over, got up on it, and reached for the latch.

Heat radiated from Babel's body as he came up behind me and put his hands on my hips. “Sunny.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Don't.” I pushed away from his grip, my body turning awkwardly, and I fell from the chair.

Babel caught me in his arms, of course. Not that I wasn't grateful, but come on! The only thing missing was the Barry White background music. He dipped his face toward mine. I fought the urge to meet his lips as he drew nearer. Not easy, let me tell you. He smelled so damn good.

“What are you wearing?”

He looked surprised. “A flannel shirt and jeans?”

“Not your clothes, dummy. That cologne.” I sniffed his neck—musk and…some kind of earthy herb like cumin and basil. It made me feel both hungry and horny.

Babel groaned softly, gooseflesh rising on his skin when I sniffed him again. His eyes rolled up and he spoke through gritted teeth. “Please, stop.” Then he focused in on me with fierce determination. “Or don't stop. Choose one or the other, Sunny.”

A dog barked. I turned slightly and could see the reddish-brown mutt crouched in the corner. I wet my lips and met Babel's gaze. “Put me down.”

He obliged, watching me curiously as I walked to the dog. “It's okay, boy,” I called soothingly, reaching out to pet his fur. He whined. “No, no. It's okay.”

“Sunny?”

“Shh,” I told Babel, without looking back at him. “You'll scare him off.”

“Scare who—”

I crouched next to the dog and stroked…

“—off?”

Nothing but air.

I jerked my chin in a confused tuck. Helplessly, I looked back to Babel, who watched me curiously.

“Don't you see him? The dog. He's right…”

I glanced back to the corner. The dog was gone. Disappeared. Vamoosed. Fucking hell.

“He was there.” I pointed. “Right there. You saw him, right? I'm not crazy.” Truth be told, I was feeling a little crazy.

“I didn't see anything.” His tone was light, gentle. It really pissed me off.

“I'm not crazy!” I reiterated, less and less certain. I mean, holy crap, I'd been chasing a hallucination around for two freaking days. “Come on. Skinny dog, reddish-brown, about yea high?” I gestured to right above my knee. “Surly disposition?”

His eyebrows shifted upward and he paled. “I swear I didn't see any dog.”

“But?”

Babel's expression told me there had to be a but. There was always a but. “But…” he said reluctantly. “Have you ever seen a coyote before?”

Coyote? “Uhm, maybe. I dunno. I might have seen one on television or something like that. I can't really remember.” It couldn't have been a coyote. How could I be having a delusion about an animal I couldn't have identified if it walked up and bit me?

A tingling sensation started in my lips. No. Not again.

“Sunny?”

“I feel…” Before I could finish, the world went black.

Chavvah was sitting at a counter. She was in a living room, but not the one above the diner. This one was modern, with black furniture and steel and glass accessories. It lacked the warmness of Chav. She was reading a journal and jotting numbers down on a piece of paper. She looked up, an expression of horror on her face. The fear in her voice chilled me to the bone when she said, “It can't be. They killed him. They really killed him.”

When I came to, Babel was holding me in his arms and carrying me up the stairs.

“You should really go see a doctor.” He stroked my hair, perspiration causing it to cling to my neck.

Great, passing out was beginning to become my M.O. around Babel. The vision had made one thing clear. Babel and Chav's older brother was no longer missing. He was dead. I don't think Chavvah would have been that emotional about someone else, but then again, I hadn't seen her in two years.