It Started with a Puppy
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Christy Jeffries
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Chapter One
Elise Mackenzie couldn’t afford to be picky with her limited career choices, but at least she’d found a job working with animals rather than people. After all, dogs and cats didn’t mind that she was better at making lists than making jokes, or that she talked to herself while she cleaned up after them. They didn’t care how many followers she had on social media or that her nicest outfit was from the “unable to sell” bin at the rummage sale Aunt Regina organized for the church.
Scratch that.
Technically, Elise was the one who’d organized the rummage sale when it became clear her aunt had once again overvolunteered herself. Nobody would know that though because Elise preferred to remain behind the scenes and not draw any attention to herself. Her late mother had been the exact same way. Her father, on the other hand, used to joke that he was born with the gift of gab, a trait he unfortunately didn’t pass down to his only heir.
“Pfshh,” Elise sputtered as she hefted a twenty-pound bag of dry cat food from the back of her car. Heir made it sound as though she’d inherited some sort of vast estate or trust fund or anything besides a strong work ethic and this ancient minivan.
Elise had never had so much as a bank account until a week ago. As embarrassing as it was for a twenty-five-year-old woman to admit, working at Barkyard Boarding was her first official job and she’d just deposited her first real paycheck. Sure, Aunt Regina had begrudgingly given Elise a credit card to be used sparingly to pick up groceries for their household or her aunt’s dry cleaning as needed. But when Elise moved out two weeks ago, she’d left the credit card on the counter in the kitchen.
Partly, she didn’t want any ties connecting her to the town’s most notorious socialite who’d mysteriously disappeared nearly a month ago and hadn’t been heard from since. But more importantly, she needed to prove to herself—and to everyone else in Spring Forest, North Carolina—that Elise Mackenzie could be her own woman and make her own way in this world.
Unfortunately, after deducting income taxes and paying her first month’s rent, there was barely enough left over from her paycheck to buy groceries and cat food.
Still. Elise had never felt so in charge of her future.
Or at least she felt that way until a blue pickup truck pulled off Maple Street and into the driveway behind her van. Despite the warm September afternoon sunshine, a quiver made its way down her spine.
Harris Vega.
She nearly tripped over her own feet as she spun around and tried to focus on her original path. It’s only Harris, she told herself. You’ve talked to him before. Sorta. He’s just a man. And your new hot landlord. Not that he was recently hot. He’d always been that way. He was new to being her landlord, though.
And he was hot.
Gah, this was why Elise didn’t like talking to people. She didn’t want to risk accidentally voicing the random thoughts that popped into her head at the worst possible moments.
Without bending over and aiming her rear end in the direction of his truck, she tried to gracefully lower the awkward bag of cat food onto the worn boards of the bottom porch step. She lost her grip at the last minute and twenty pounds of kibble landed with a loud thunk, sending up a cloud of dust to tickle her nose. Maybe if she had a sneeze attack, Harris wouldn’t notice the overgrown weeds in the front yard. Or that the front porch still didn’t have so much as a doormat, let alone a fresh coat of paint.
Why was he here? Had he heard that she’d just cashed her first check and now he was rethinking his recent offer to forego the security deposit and full rent in exchange for her cleaning up the rental house and doing some minor renovations?
She had to come up with something to distract him. But as she turned toward the driveway to greet him, she couldn’t muster so much as a sniffle. Probably because Elise purposely trained herself to blend into the background whenever possible and to avoid anything that might get her noticed.
Harris walked toward her with his brilliant smile and athletically lean six-foot-tall frame. His dark brown hair and sun-bronzed complexion might’ve been courtesy of his Mexican American heritage, but his well-worn work jeans and his easy stride likely came from an earned confidence of being one of the most successful contractors—and best-looking men—in Spring Forest. Elise’s throat got so tight, all she could manage was a half-hearted wave hello.
“I see you already beat me to it,” he said, and she knew he wasn’t talking about the end-of-summer weeding that was just one of many items on Elise’s long to-do list.
“Beat you to what?” Her voice sounded faint, as though it hadn’t been used all day.
He nodded toward the toppled sack on the porch. “To feeding the cats. I bought the exact same bag of food. I don’t know who came up with the name Feline Finest, but the former owner said it was the only brand her precious babies would eat.”
“Oh.” The tension in Elise’s neck loosened with relief. “Right. Mrs. O’Malley sent me a letter saying the same thing. She even included a coupon.”
“Lucky you. I paid full price. I tried to tell her that a colony of feral cats would be happy with anything I put in front of them, but she refused to move into the retirement home unless I promised I’d only buy them Feline Finest.”
Elise watched as he walked to the bed of his truck and easily hefted an identical twenty-pound bag onto one of his shoulders. With his arm raised over his head to hold the awkward load securely in place, the hem of his work shirt rose as well, exposing the lower ab muscles just above his narrow waistband. She quickly looked away before he could catch her staring at him the way Roscoe, the Saint Bernard staying the week at Barkyard Boarding, stared at the container of treats he knew Elise kept at the reception desk.
“So I guess old Mrs. O’Malley made us both promise the same thing.”
Elise shook her head to clear it. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I said, I’m guessing you also promised Mrs. O’Malley that you would feed the cats who roam around the neighborhood looking for a free meal.”
“I didn’t really promise her. I just noticed them hanging around behind the back fence in the evenings. When I sent her a letter, I asked about them.”
“Really?” His light brown eyes opened wider. “I didn’t know you and Mrs. O’Malley were pen pals.”
Elise nervously bit her lip to keep from replying that there were plenty of things Harris Vega didn’t know about her. “Actually, I’ve never met her, but when I was cleaning out the dining room hutch, there were some old photos that looked important, so I asked the postal carrier if they had a forwarding address. I found out she’d moved to Horizons Memory Center. That was the same place where my father went when he started having issues that made it difficult for him to live on his own. I remember he had such a hard time adjusting to the change, so I thought she might enjoy a little note to brighten her day.”
Harris tilted his head as he studied her so intently, she began to wonder if he was staring at something in the overgrown hydrangea bushes behind her. But the only thing threatening the thick green leaves was the canvas sneaker on her right foot as she took another step back.
No, she decided before stiffening her shoulders and planting her feet. She was trying to be more independent. Less awkward. More capable of doing things like talking with hot guys without tripping over her feet or her tongue. After all, it wasn’t as though the man standing before her was a complete stranger. They weren’t exactly friends, but they knew some of the same people and Harris was a respected member of the community. He’d also given her a pretty big break on the rent when most people would’ve asked for a list of references and full credit report.
Unfortunately, it had been a long time since someone had looked at Elise the way Harris was looking at her now. Studying her with unabashed curiosity.
To keep from squirming under his direct stare, she cleared her throat and began walking toward the more accessible back door. “So do you want to see what I’ve done so far with the house? I haven’t gotten to everything on the outside, obviously, but I was able to get that musty turquoise carpet pulled out of both bedrooms. The hardwood floors underneath are heart pine and in surprisingly good condition for being original to the house. They need to be sanded of course and restained. But I’ll have to rent an electric sander from the hardware store, which will have to wait until I get my next paycheck. I did get some paint samples for the walls, though. But I didn’t know if you wanted me to get your approval or if I should just go with my choice—Moonlight Serenade. The name is a bit over-the-top, but it’s a pretty neutral tone and will go with most decor schemes in case the next resident prefers something...”
Elise paused long enough to push a stray bit of hair from her face. She’d been so busy rambling on and on to steady her nerves, she’d barely noticed whether Harris had followed her around the side of the house. He had, though, and his curious expression was now accompanied by a wide grin. Why was he smiling at her like that?
“The next resident? Are you already planning on moving out?”
“No! I mean. I was just thinking that eventually you’ll want to sell the place and...” she trailed off again. Why couldn’t she finish a damn sentence when he was watching her so intently?
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be ready to sell this place anytime soon. Especially if it gets overrun with all the wild cats both of us are planning on feeding.”
This time it was Elise who tilted her head and studied him.
She’d grown so accustomed to her aunt overcommitting and not following through, her brain was struggling to process the fact that Harris was actually making good on his promise to a little old lady who would probably never know whether or not he fed a bunch of strays.
Of course, she shouldn’t be so surprised since she was about to do the same thing despite having never made an offer in the first place. But Elise had been raised by her parents to do what she could to help others. She hadn’t imagined anyone would know about her care of the cats other than the cats themselves. But now here was Harris Vega.
She gestured at the heavy bag of food still balanced on his shoulder, trying to avoid looking at any other part of his well-formed torso. “Um, I did a bit of research online, but did Mrs. O’Malley give you any specific instructions on how to go about this? Or how often?”
“She said three evenings a week. Any more than that and they’ll get too dependent and slowly forget their natural predatory skills. One of Mrs. O’Malley’s friends was initially helping with the feedings, but I just found out he’s in the hospital. I’m not sure when he was here last.”
“Oh, how terrible. Let’s hope the cats’ predatory skills are nicely honed by now since I’ve been living here for a whole week and as far as I know, nobody has fed them yet.”
A loud meow sounded from beyond the fence. It was soon followed by another. Harris shifted the bag to his other shoulder, causing the bits of kibble inside to rustle loudly. A gray Bengal jumped up onto the fence post, balancing agilely on all four paws.
“I think they just heard the dinner bell,” he said before tugging on his collar. Harris’s smile was now replaced with a concerned frown. “Do you know how many of them are over there?”
“I’m sure there can’t be that many,” Elise tried to reassure him. Unfortunately, several more meows drowned out her response. She raised her voice so he could hear her over the growing howls. “Maybe they’re just extra hungry because it’s been so long.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. What if I go over there and they mistake me for the food?”
She had to choke back a giggle. Surely, this normally confident and visibly strong man couldn’t be afraid of a couple of small cats.
“Please. I’m sure you’re not that yummy.” It wasn’t until Harris cocked an eyebrow at her that she realized what she’d just said. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I mean... Not that I would know what you taste like.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth and she instinctively bit her lower lip. Was it her imagination or did his eyes narrow? If she didn’t know better, she’d think Harris Vega was actually considering the thought of her finding out for herself exactly how yummy he was.
“I have a feeling the defenses are about to be breached,” Harris said without taking his eyes off Elise. It took her a few seconds to realize he wasn’t talking about the emotional wall she’d spent years building up.
He was talking about the dilapidated backyard fence that wasn’t stable enough to hold the weight of so many hungry cats.
“Do you have some scissors or something nearby?” Harris yelled over the growing cacophony of meows. “It’ll probably be safer to just cut the bag open and throw it through the gate.”
“I have a pair in the house,” Elise replied. “But I don’t know if the starving masses will be willing to wait that long. It could be risky.”
Harris suddenly wondered if the timid young woman was actually cracking a joke. Unfortunately, he couldn’t read her expression because he was too busy keeping his eyes locked on the feline army assembling before him. “Okay. I have a pocketknife on my keychain in my left pocket. I can’t reach it with my free hand, and I don’t want to make any sudden movements. Can you grab it for me?”
“You mean you want me to, uh...um...retrieve it?” There was a catch in Elise’s voice, suggesting her cheeks had turned that charming shade of pink again. “From your pocket?”
“I promise I’m not trying to put the moves on you or anything.” His new tenant had just spoken more words to him in the past few minutes than he’d heard from her, total, since he’d first met her. The last thing Harris wanted to do was scare the woman off. Especially since he might need someone to drive him to get a rabies shot after this.
He thought he might’ve heard her say, “Why would I ever think that?” But her normally soft tone wasn’t quite audible with all the howling going on around them.
He caught a faint scent of lavender as though she’d moved closer toward him, but his pocket remained untouched. Even if he wanted to turn his head to find out what was taking her so long, he wouldn’t have been able to see over the bag balanced on his shoulder. If he wasn’t in such a damn hurry, Harris might have enjoyed her slow approach and the potential for some harmless flirtation with the shy, yet pretty woman.
He imagined her reaching for his pocket, then pulling her hand back as though she was about to get burned. He clenched his jaw, trying not to anticipate the moment her fingers would finally come into contact with his front hip. By the time he felt a slight tug on his jeans, he nearly jumped.
And so did the stealthy gray Bengal, who was now on the grass ten feet in front on them.
“Hold still or else he’ll sense your fear,” Elise whispered as her hand slowly slid inside his pocket. Harris held his breath, wishing he could explain that his jumpiness was a result of her touch, not his fear of some wild and possibly rabid animals who were visibly stalking him as though he was human catnip. “Feral cats aren’t used to interacting with humans.”
“Do you think we should maybe stop using the word feral?” He sucked in a gulp of air as the key ring—or possibly her fingers—grazed along the thin fabric separating his pocket from his skin. “I mean, ol’ Mrs. O’Malley was about ninety-five pounds soaking wet and she was never attacked. Right?”
But Elise didn’t answer. She’d already pulled his pocketknife free and handily used the blade to stab into the bag of food, slicing a long clean line only inches away from his left ear.
“Oh, so now you’re in a hurry?” He didn’t think he could hold his body any stiffer. “If you cut me, those beasts are gonna smell fresh blood.”
“Don’t worry. I have more experience using a knife than I do reaching into men’s pants.”
This time, Harris did jerk his head toward her and was rewarded with another view of her blush-stained cheeks. “Don’t think I’m not going to ask you more about that later. If we make it out of here alive.”
“I’m more likely to die from embarrassment than you are from some hungry cats.” Elise deftly closed the blade and slipped the key ring into her own pocket. “On the count of three, I’ll run and open the gate and then you can throw the food in their direction. Ready?”
Harris didn’t know if the blood pulsing through his body was from his heightened adrenaline or from the unexpected rush of witnessing the very quiet and demure Elise Mackenzie take charge. Yet before the telltale blush was gone from her cheeks, she’d already called out “three” and was running toward the gate.
Harris had no choice but to act now.
He heaved the bag through the narrow opening and it landed with a loud thud, the freshly sliced tear causing some of the food to spill out. Four cats walked closer to inspect the bag, but none of them attacked it the way he expected.
“Why aren’t they eating?” Elise asked.
“I have no idea.”
She pointed to three short metal troughs that were spaced a few feet apart. “Maybe they’re waiting for us to put the food in those things?”
“Seriously? After a week of not being fed? I’ve seen house cats not trained that well. These guys are feral.”
“I thought we weren’t using that word anymore.” Elise pushed a wavy curl from her face. It was the second time she’d done that, and Harris had a sudden urge to see what she would look like with her hair down.
He cleared his throat. “Well, now that they’re not attacking me, I’m comfortable putting it back into our vocabulary.”
He thought she might’ve giggled, but if she had, it was short-lived. “Look, there’s a big scoop attached to that bin. Clearly, Mrs. O’Malley had these feeding stations all set up for a reason.”
Harris stepped closer to the open bag that the cats still hadn’t touched. The meows grew more intense and several of the cats began actively pacing, but not even one touched so much as a single bite of kibble.
Nor did they attack him.
He swiped a hand against the back of his damp neck. So maybe he’d slightly overreacted earlier, but how was he supposed to know what to expect? One darted between his work boots, and when he took a step back, he nearly tripped over another. There were at least eight strays back here. If they decided to work together, they could possibly take down a human.
Elise retrieved the scoop and the cats immediately vanished from under Harris’s feet and ran to the little feeding stations. It reminded him of visiting his tia Sylvia in Mexico when he was a kid. She would make homemade churros and he and his cousins would line up like patient little soldiers waiting to get handed one freshly dipped in cinnamon and sugar.
“How much do you think I should feed them?” Elise asked.
Harris shrugged. “I have no idea. I guess just put a few scoops out to see what they do. We don’t want them to overeat. Is that a thing?”
“Right now, we have a twenty-pound calico at Barkyard Boarding who would eat in his sleep if we let him.”
“You mean Mr. Chow’s cat Dimples? I thought that thing was a potbellied pig the first time I saw it. Wait. Here come a few more.” Harris began counting aloud. “I can’t believe Mrs. O’Malley used to do this three times a week. How did she even manage to carry the food back here?”
“My guess would be that wheelbarrow parked over there, holding up this side of the fence.” Elise went to retrieve it and his eyes were drawn to the way her jeans clung to her thin, but toned legs.
Watching her navigate the cumbersome bucket of rust made him realize he’d underestimated the woman. She was slim, but strong. Shy, but not afraid to take charge. He needed to remind himself that she was his tenant and he shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts about someone who was paying him rent. “Yeah, maybe your landlord will get around to fixing that fence one of these days.”
Her answering smile fled when the front tire of the wheelbarrow hit a rut and the axel broke. “Looks like I need to add a few things to my hardware store list.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want you paying for those kinds of things yourself.” Harris wasn’t sure what her financial situation was, but it couldn’t be good. Not after her aunt had skipped town under questionable circumstances. “I have an account at the hardware store. Have the manager bill whatever you buy for the house to my company.”
She opened and closed her mouth several times before finally saying, “Thanks. That’d be great.”
Just like the day he’d offered to rent the Maple Street property to her for a reduced price, Elise turned away before he could read her emotions. Which was probably for the best.
When she finished refilling all three feeding stations, there was still more than half of the bag left. He dumped the remaining food into a steel bin with an airtight lid and a series of tricky latches that even the wiliest critter couldn’t bust open. Then he did some quick calculations in his head.
It looked like one bag of food would only cover a week of feeding. And these strays had expensive tastes. He didn’t want to keep bringing up money, but it didn’t seem fair for her to use her own financial resources to keep a promise that Harris had made. At the same time, he looked at his watch and realized how long this visit had taken. His business couldn’t afford for him to be over here three times a week feeding a bunch of strays either.
When Elise put the scoop back into its holder on the side of the bin, Harris asked, “So how would you feel about a little partnership?”
She whipped her head around, as though she thought he was talking to someone else behind her. When she realized he was talking to her, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, to be honest, when I made my promise to Mrs. O’Malley, my business was running at full staff and I thought her friend would be helping out. But I’m currently down four guys and I’ve got two houses closing escrow this week, plus a big demo starting in a few days. Mrs. O’Malley’s friend is getting discharged from the hospital this week, thank God, but he is going to be on bed rest for a while.”
“Oh, I’d be happy to help.” Elise wiped her hands on the denim outlining the curve of her hips. “I’m used to being on the cleanup crew.”
Harris had been so focused on her legs, he’d only caught the last bit of what she’d said and wasn’t sure he’d understood. He shook his head to clear it. “Please tell me you’re not saying there’s a bunch of litter boxes around here we have to deal with too.”
She chuckled, which was more of a hiccup coupled with a smile, but Harris realized he’d never seen her laugh before. “No litter boxes, thank goodness. The cleanup crew was a reference to Aunt Regina. She also tends to bite off more than she can chew when it comes to volunteering. It was my job to make sure nothing fell through the cracks.”
Harris felt as though a twenty-pound bag of Feline Finest had just been dropped on his stomach. Everyone in Spring Forest knew that Regina Mackenzie was a notorious flake. She ran in much higher social circles than he did, or at least she used to before she vanished off the face of the earth under unscrupulous circumstances. He hoped Elise wasn’t seriously comparing him to that Aunt Regina.
To keep from scrunching his nose in disgust, he dragged a hand across the lower half of his face, which was covered with a bit more stubble than his mom approved of.
“It’s not that I can’t handle doing the feedings. I can.” Even though he clearly couldn’t handle shaving more than once or twice a week. “I would just need to switch some stuff around in my schedule. I can’t always promise that I’d be here at a specific time, and I wouldn’t want to bother you if you had plans or were entertaining someone.”
Her eyebrows drew into a V over her narrow nose. “Who would I be entertaining?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a guy. Or a friend. Or a guy friend.” Great. Now he sounded as though he was asking her if she had a boyfriend. “Anyway, I wouldn’t want to be showing up at random times and...” he trailed off when he felt her palm on his bicep.
“Harris, I really am happy to help. There’s no point in you driving out all this way from...wherever you live when I’m already here. Besides, you’ve already cut my rent in half in exchange for working on the house and yard. Let’s just put this under that same umbrella. Taking care of the cats is part of taking care of the property. Think of this as basic maintenance.”
“Fine. But I pay for the food. And you call me immediately if you need me to take over in case you can’t handle it. Or if you run into a problem.”
Elise stared at him, and he wished he knew what she was thinking in that moment. He almost asked and then her gaze shot past him, to something in the distance. He followed her line of sight.
Harris spotted the skinny orange tabby hovering near a fir tree and asked, “Why isn’t that one eating with the others?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. It looks like it could use a good meal.”
“Maybe he’s afraid of the other cats.”
“Possibly. But it doesn’t seem as though they’re paying any attention to him. He could be afraid of you.”
“Of me?” Harris’s voice came out much louder than he’d intended. “What did I do to make him afraid?”
“Shhh. Some animals are afraid of big men.”
“I’m not that big.” Harris couldn’t help the pride causing his shoulders to straighten wider. “Besides, how do you know it’s not you scaring him away?”
“I don’t scare anybody,” Elise said as she took a tentative step toward the orange tabby. “In fact, people usually don’t even know I’m there.”
The cat ducked behind the tree. “Looks to me like he knows exactly where you are, and he doesn’t want you to come any closer.”
“I think that’s Oliver. The cat Brooklyn Hobbs has been searching for.” In fact, the nine-year-old had posted signs all over town and even went to the shelter every week to see if someone had found her missing cat.
“He looks a lot thinner than his picture on the flyer, but I think you’re right,” Harris said, full of relief. The whole town had been pulling for the owner and pet to be reunited, but with all the time that had gone by, it had started to seem less and less likely. “I’ll go get him.” Harris took several long strides before Elise grabbed his hand and tugged him back.
“Don’t startle him. You need a plan first.”
He looked down at their joined fingers. “My plan is to go after what I want.”
