Page 8 of Boss Me Around

“Here, let me.” I shift behind her, guiding her to one side so I can get to the row of drawers. Her ass brushes against the front of my jeans as she moves and, once again, my cock sings the “Fucking is Fine and We Should Do It All the Time” song of his people.

His very dumb people.

Cocks are dumb. That’s a proven fact, and I don’t intend to let mine call the shots. Even on the rare occasions when I have a one-night stand, I think it through first. Thinking is good. It keeps a man from making things awkward for himself in his very small hometown or accidentally fucking a relative.

Yes, I know all my first cousins and most of my second cousins on sight but considering McGuires and McGuires-by-marriage make up most of this town, a person can’t be too careful.

I’m not into cousin love, even if it’s two or three times removed.

“All right, Pierre,” I murmur in a soft, hopefully soothing rumble. “If that’s you, I’m just dipping into the drawer to get the flashlight. No reason to get upset.” I reach for the drawer, pausing as a soft chirping sound emanates from beneath the desk.

I glance up at Starling in the dim light. I can’t see her expression, but I make out her shrug as she whispers, “I have no idea what that is. It sounds like a bird, but I’m pretty sure those were paws on my shoes. And Captain Carl the parrot got adopted last week.”

“All right then, we’ll just take it slow until we figure out who’s hiding under there,” I say, continuing to speak in my animal-whisperer voice, the one that’s kept me from being bitten by the frightened strays I’ve helped socialize for years. Pulling the drawer out just far enough to get my hand inside, I reach in, feeling for the flashlight. “Could be the ferret. What was his name again?”

“Could be,” Starling whispers back. “His previous owners called him Ludwig. Because the marks above his eyes look like big, fluffy eyebrows. But Sheila’s going to change it. She doesn’t think he likes being called Ludwig.”

“Really?” I ask as my fingers close around the handle of the flashlight. “Why?”

“Would you want to be called Ludwig?”

“Good point.” I pull out the flashlight and close the drawer, covering the end of the light with my palm before I flick it on. I don’t want to scare the animal by blasting a beam directly into its face.

Gently, slowly, I set the still-covered bulb down on the tile and peek underneath the desk until I see two glowing eyes above a white-and-black striped snout.

“It’s Stinkerbelle,” I whisper to Starling, the name summoning another chirping sound from the skunk, this one more irritable sounding than the one before. “I don’t think she likes her name, either.”

“Oh, the poor thing,” Starling says. “She was so scared in the kennel earlier. I’m not surprised she made a break for it, though I can’t imagine how she got out.” She drops to her knees and peers under the desk, cooing, “Hey there, sweetheart. I’m sorry I screamed and scared you. And I’m sorry you don’t like your name. What if we call you Belle or Bella instead? Would you like that?”

The skunk emits a more upbeat chirp but doesn’t move from her position crouched beneath the legs of the chair.

“We’re going to need a treat to coax her out,” I say.

“I’ll go get one, just a second.” Starling stands only to squat back down a beat later. “I need the flashlight. It’s so dark in the breakroom I won’t be able to find the raw almonds without it.”

“No worries,” I say, handing over the flashlight, my pulse picking up again as Starling’s fingers brush mine. Touching the woman’s fingers is enough to make filthy thoughts dance through my head.

The chemistry between us is insane and way too dangerous to mess around with.

It would be like playing with fire by a leaky gas pump.

“But that’s okay. We’re just going to stay calm and focused, Bella,” I whisper as Starling moves into the breakroom in search of skunk treats. “We’re going to get you back in your kennel, get the lights on if we can, and head home before we make any mistakes that we can’t undo in the morning.”

The skunk chirps again, as if agreeing with me, and I can’t help but smile. Bella’s a sweet little thing, and cute as a button. Her glossy black eyes seem to promise a person that everything is going to be all right.

“This is the kind of weird pet I can actually get behind,” I say as Starling returns and crouches down beside me again. She sets the flashlight between us on the ground, the beam shining up toward the ceiling for illumination. “Unlike brain damaged poultry.”

“Kyle doesn’t have brain damage,” Starling shoots back, coming to her misfit’s defense, the way she always does. “He’s doing so well on the leash these days and obeys all his commands. He also has a dance he does just for me when I get home. It’s the Starling Rocks my World dance. He told me so.”

Refusing to think about all the ways I want Starling to rock my world, I remind her, “Is that why he almost attacked the cake at Kinsey and Clark’s wedding?”

“He thought it was a predator, not food. Which is valid. He’d never seen food that big or fancy before. Here, take a few nuts and hold them out flat on your palm. I’ll offer some out on this side and hopefully Belle will feel safe coming to one of us.”

“Bella,” I correct before I realize what I’m doing. A little embarrassed, I add, “I think she likes that better.”

A smile in her voice, Starling says, “Is that right? Okay, Bella. Christian and I have treats for you, pretty girl. I promise I’ll find somewhere better for you to sleep than in the same room with all those dogs and cats. I know that must have been scary.”

“That’s right,” I murmur, sliding my hand closer to the skunk. “We’ll get you set up in a private cage with lots of blankets and extra nuts for being such a good girl.”

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