Fur Ball Fever

Chapter 9 (Scene 2)

Julius was waiting for them out back. Some women might find him attractive in a dangerous, slightly grungy way, but he made Grace's skin crawl. When he favored her with a smoldering stare, she pulled Murphy closer while inching toward Nick's solid bulk.

Murphy didn't object. Neither did Nick.

Julius reminded her of a prize fighter gone to seed, all bulging muscle overlaid with a hint of fat. Black hair waved over his forehead. An unbuttoned black shirt revealed loops of golden chains glittering against a heavily furred chest. Broad shoulders supported his head without the benefit of any discernible neck.

Julius had confined Crusher inside the house. She could make out a sloping head and colossal shoulders through the screen door. The bullmastiff's silhouette was eerily similar to his master's.

She gave Julius her warmest smile, deliberately softening her voice to a sultry purr. "Thank you so much for agreeing to talk with us and for locking up your doggy."

Julius shrugged. "No problem." He eyeballed the expanse of cleavage revealed by her tank top and licked his lips.

Nick placed a proprietary hand on the small of her back causing Julius to flush and gaze away. Even Murphy backed her up by going from docile to ballistic. Inside the house Crusher took up the challenge. The air reverberated with high-pitched yips and booming barks, making conversation impossible. Out of the corner of her eye Grace caught a flash of gray whipping up a maple, onto the roof, and out of sight.

"Murphy hates squirrels," she yelled. "He won't shut up until I let him off the leash." She zapped Julius with a full-voltage gaze. "Okay?"

Julius' lips tightened but he nodded his assent.

As soon as she unclipped Murphy's leash, the dog zoomed away in merciful silence, punctuated only by low wuffs and snuffles as he followed an invisible trail across the yard and along the fence. She shook her head. A fat lot of good he was as a sniffer dog.

"You said something about an apology," Julius reminded her. "I ain't got all day."

Crusher continued to vocalize his displeasure. Ropes of slobber dripped from floppy jowls surrounding a three-foot jaw span.

Since there was no way Miss Coco could possibly be stashed inside, she refused to humiliate herself. To distract Julius from her apology, she pretended to do a double-take and gave an admiring nod in the bullmastiff's direction. "Now that is one amazing animal. The word majestic springs to mind." She was laying it on thick but desperate situations called for desperate measures.

"Nice save," Nick whispered, his warm breath stirring the hair above her ear before he wandered a few steps away, as if disinterested. She knew he was listening to every word.

Julius' face glowed with pride. "His real name is Sir Galahad the Third. I paid a goddamn fortune for him. Hang on a sec." He disappeared into the house to fuss with the dog. When he returned three minutes later, he said, "The vet told me Crusher was hyperactive, prescribed medication to calm him down."

Whatever the stuff was, it worked. The monster shut up.

In the sudden silence Grace gave Julius a flirty little giggle and an eyelash flutter. "I'm sure Crusher is worth every penny you paid."

Julius smiled. "He'll earn his keep when he wins the Fur Ball. This year's blue ribbon has 'Crusher' written all over it."

She stifled the urge to flash Nick a victorious grin, and said, "I hope you placed a wager on your dog."

"The biggest chunk of change I could scrape together. In less than a week, we'll be rolling in enough do to ..." He let the sentence drift away, as if he'd said too much.