Page 24 of Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon, Idaho 3)

Val snorted as she passed, making her way to the phone up front so she could have Mrs. Wilson pick up her cat. “Really? How could you tell when you were busy pushing your boobs into his arm?”

Ellie squealed behind her. “And you’re jealous.”

“No, I’m not. I just don’t know why you have to throw yourself at every man you see.” Val grabbed the phone and dialed, wishing her sister would take the hint.

“Come on, I was just making a point,” Ellie whispered, hopping up to sit on the table. “That sexy man—who looks like he could give a woman a long, solid night of the hot and heavy kind—wants to give it to you hard.”

“Jesus, Ellie—”

“Hello,” Mrs. Wilson answered the telephone.

“Hi, Mrs. Wilson, it’s Valerie,” Val said, pointing toward the door. Unfazed by her obvious irritation, Ellie started whistling. “I just wanted to call to let you know I couldn’t groom Sweet Pea, so you’ll have to bring him back another day. And please, don’t forget to sedate him.”

Mrs. Wilson started to argue. “Really, Valerie, he’s all of ten pounds. Can’t you just put him in one of those cat bags or something?”

Val, already burning with irritation, snapped, “Mrs. Wilson, your cat, when not sedated, is a biter, and I do not want to go to the hospital because you can’t comply with my policy. Either he comes in sedated or you need to find another groomer.” Taking a calming breath, Val continued in a kinder tone, “It’s for his safety as well. If I get bit and go to the emergency room, I have to report what happened, and Sweet Pea gets a black mark on his record. Too many instances and they might deem him dangerous. We both know he’s not a bad cat; he just doesn’t like being groomed.”

There was a deep sigh. “I just don’t know what to do with the little dickens. It’s true he takes exception to being brushed, but I assumed it was just because I’m the one doing it and he knows how to get around me. I’m sorry he was such a stinker and I promise I’ll be better about remembering his sedative.”

Mrs. Wilson’s apology seemed sincere, but Val hung up the phone betting the argument wasn’t over. Ellie’s whistling had stopped, but she was still grinning at Val like a simpleton.

“You seem tense, sis,” Ellie teased, hopping off the table. “You know what the cure is for that, right?”

“Bite me,” Val snapped.

“Close, but I don’t think it’s me you want doing the biting. Besides, I’m your sister. Perv.”

Ellie walked out of the room and Val wished she had something to throw at her retreating back.

Sometimes, the thought of being an only child had its appeal.

Chapter Six

* * *

JUST AFTER FIVE, Val finally sent home her last client, the Ericksons’ golden retriever, who had rolled in a fresh cow pie and had been in need of a severe hose down. A half an hour of clean up and she was locking up the salon. She grabbed her jacket and walked the short distance to her house, wrapping her scarf over her nose and mouth as the freezing wind hit her in the face. The trek was fast, and she opened the back door of the house, sucking in a deep breath as the warmth surrounded her. A wiggling Gus greeted her.

“Hey, Gus-Man, did you miss me? Huh?”

He barked and stopped to paw her leg, his jaw wide open like he was smiling at her.

“I’m hungry; how about you?” Heading to the kitchen, she grabbed a steam bag of soybeans from the freezer and popped them in the microwave as she shrugged out of her jacket. She’d have a little snack and head to the grocery store. Maybe this time she’d avoid hostile encounters and adorable newborns long enough to grab some more meals. With Ellie in residence, the contents of her fridge were going to deplete faster than normal.

Bending down to grab Gus’s food dish, she prepared his half-and-half mix of dry dog food and canned. The smell wasn’t the most pleasant, but Gus was worth it.

“There she is! My favorite sister.” Ellie glided into the room, and Val gave her a skeptical look.

“What have you done?”

“Moi? Nothing! Why would you think I’d done something?” Ellie asked as she sat down at the kitchen table, crossing her legs and innocently batting her eyelashes at Val.

Val knew without a doubt that her sister had definitely done something.

“Ellie,” she said slowly, putting Gus’s bowl back on the floor and washing her hands, “what did you do?” Ellie tapped her perfectly manicured fingers on the table, grating on Val’s nerves. “Ellie,” she growled, drying her hands on a towel and taking a step toward her.

“I called Daddy.”

Val’s suspicions intensified. “Why?”

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